Chapter 16

Mammoth Cave National Park, Kentucky

Big Ben Jorghansen inhaled deeply through his nose. Instead of the sharp smell of cold, dry stone, there was an odd, burning odor. Not the hint of a clean fire: instead it reminded him of the time they were at Hank’s cookout and, for a laugh, Hank threw a handful of deer gut on the flames – it stunk to high heaven.

He wiped his wet brow. And what was with the heat? It was always cool down in the caves, but today he could feel the perspiration running down his back and sides – it had to be damned eighty degrees.

He sighed and checked his watch again, wishing he were out in the fresh air. The heat didn’t worry so much as confuse him. Mammoth Cave was formed by hydrological means, not volcanic. Water seeping through holes in the sandstone layer above the limestone had eroded away the caves over millions of years. There was no geothermic activity – or at least there shouldn’t be.

Ben took his position up on a rocky ledge looking down on the shiny sweat-soaked faces of his guests on today’s tour – the group was only half what it should be. People were just staying home. He wasn’t suprised with the sinkholes closing roads, and he’d heard a few sad sacks had even fallen into them. The government had been telling people it’d be best to stay indoors at night. Guess a giant hole is harder to see in the dark, he thought. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to ramp up his enthusiasm.

He had done this many times, and it was as informative as it was theatrical. He’d turn on and off lights, showing different formations in the huge bowl-shaped cavern, and then take them over to the bottomless pit – it was only about a hundred and thirty-five feet deeper than where they were, but the lighting made it look like it fell away forever.

To finish up it’d be off to the cave pool and point out a few of the blind crawlers in the glasslike water. Then he’d round em up, herd em out, and get ready for the next bunch, if there were any. He checked his watch; Not long now, he thought with relief. He usually loved being down in the caves – the peace and quiet, the coolness and sense of strength and permanence. But today, strangely, he wanted to be out in the air, or fishing, or home with his wife. Today, he just wanted to be anywhere but down in the Mammoth Caves.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” He waited.

Heads swung towards him and murmurs fell away. There was silence, except for the wheezing of a kid with a red face who looked like he enjoyed his dessert just a bit too much.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is one of the lowest points in the Mammoth Caves. Just to your right, you can see the railing that guards the bottomless pit, the Gateway to Hell, as it has been called, and a very sacred place for the previous locals dating back many thousands of years.”