“Jack.  Jack where are you?”  The silence tore into her, her beating heart smashed into her chest, her ribs vibrated and resonated echoing through the cave.  She was afraid, she couldn’t see or hear anything, the blackness which had enveloped her assaulted all of her senses.  “Jack!  Answer me!”  She whispered, louder this time, as loud as she dare.  What started as a seemingly harmless adventure had spiralled into an out of control situation. 

They knew the stories and myth surrounding Pendlebury Caves, but as always, they couldn’t turn down the challenge.  “Bet you won’t stop all night.”  Fatty Harris had said.  “Nah mate, their too chicken, the Krakanov’ll ‘av ‘em.”  Mocked Wellsy.

“Fine then, fifty quid.  You think we don’t have the bottle, stick fifty down and we’ll do it.”  Jack didn’t like being called chicken; he was young.  Proud, foolish and young.  His temper had got him into far more trouble than it was worth and Sarah was no better.  Her tongue was as sharp and as unforthcoming as Jacks, more so when she was pushed, the only difference was she knew how to bide her time and pick her moments...

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