Eighth.
I didn't know what to do, my phone was still in my truck and my strength was waning every minute that I went without blood. I knew I would have to conserve it, so I sat on the ground next to my pack and tried to think. All that came to mind was miners using dynamite to blast obstacles free but that was irrational since I didn't have any dynamite. I racked my brain but couldn't think of anything. I hung my head and allowed myself one minute to cry and feel sorry for myself. When my minute was up I wiped away my tears with my dust covered hands and stood up.
I walked back up to the entrance and stared at the back of the slab for what seemed like hours taking frequent breaks to remind myself that panicking was not an option. When my feet got tired from pacing I sat facing the slab. Frustration finally got the better of me and I jumped to my feet slamming my fists against the wall and allowing tears to fall again. What difference did it make if I cried; I was trapped and all alone. I noticed that when I hit the walls the rock crumbled. Maybe if I hit them hard enough I would be able to create a new opening. It would only take ten or twenty years I thought sarcastically to myself. I slid back down the wall.
I had run out of ideas, I looked up towards the cave's ceiling. I called out for my Maddie, I had often confided in her over the years since Alexia died, when it seemed like the world was collapsing in on me. I rarely ever cried in these situations, but this time I couldn't hold back. I apologized over and over again for abandoning her as a child, begged for her to forgive me and pleaded with her to help me figure a way out. I cried harder than I had in years. I called for Alexia, for my parents, for anyone who could hear me and had ever loved me. I cried myself to the point of exhaustion; my nose was running, my throat sore and no more tears left to cry.
I knew it was hopeless so I laid my head down on the dusty floor next to the slab. I closed my swollen eyes for a few minutes. When I opened them again I saw something I hadn't noticed before. There was a tiny, almost invisible, streak of light coming in around the rock. It couldn't have been more than an inch and a half long, but it was a break in the seal. I stood back up and realized that I couldn't see it, sat down and it still wasn't visible. It wasn't until I put my head down to the floor that I saw it again.
I finally knew the answer. When Alexia and I had lived in the cabin in Massachusetts we'd had to inspect the seals between the logs a few times each year so that the harsh weather didn't topple the house down on us in our sleep. One winter when I was away for a few weeks Alexia decided to inspect the walls herself. She found a small crack in one of the seals, but the wind and snow of an oncoming blizzard had already started so she couldn't go out for the pine sap she needed to mix up the sealant. Instead she broke one of the rocks that made up the fireplace, sharpened it with one of the tools I kept under the bed and then shoved the sharp end into the seal.
If she had left it at that it might have held, but she didn't want me to see the rock sticking out of the wall so she found my repurposed hammer and broke the protruding portion of rock off. As usual she didn't know her own strength, and the force of the hammer caused the piece that was in the crack to shift and the seal to crack like ice all the way down the wall. The blizzard lasted for two days; snow was blown up in drifts everywhere. By the time I got back to the cabin the following day I found half of the wall caved in, the roof cracked down the middle, and Alexia wrapped in every quilt and blanket we owned shivering on the bed. I was a bit frustrated but I couldn't help but laugh at her, and it took twice as long as it should have to fix it because Alexia spent all of her time apologizing instead of helping.
That was it, I just needed a wedge. I scrambled around looking for a rock sharp enough and strong enough to fit. It took a few tries but I finally was able to knock one loose. I laid back down on my stomach and looked for the crack. Daylight was fading and I almost didn't see it. I stuck the small rock into the slit and found a larger one to hammer it with. Little by little the door started to inch open. I grabbed my stuff and put it at the front of the cave. Once that door was open I was out of here. I hit the wedge a few more times before it fell out of the crack, now there was enough room for me to reach my hand around and push. I got the slab open enough to slip through so I threw my stuff out and squeezed out of the cave.
When I got out I realized why I hadn't been able to move the slab. There was a pile of large heavy boulders in front of the rock. I was stunned. I shined my flashlight on the ground looking for tracks. I was only able to identify one set, but it didn't make sense. They looked as though they were left by a woman, slender foot and what appeared to be high heels. That couldn't be right, but there they were, coming and going a number of times, deeper on the way to the cave because she was carrying something heavy and then much lighter as they led away. I didn't know who did this, but I couldn't deny that it was getting too dangerous keeping this secret. I would have to tell someone, and soon.