"You could test them deeper in," he agrees, of a return trip. "Especially if we found one by the beach--that's pretty different from over here." The cave he got trapped in with Credence doesn't even exist, on the other side, just an expanse of water.

Much worse, than a cave. Somehow not as bad as a bathtub. When he washes, he fills it a hand-span along the edges, and he sits, and he draws the water up with a rag like he's trying to save it. Even that amount keeps him sense, as if the water could spontaneously come back on, as if his adult body would be as helpless as a child's.

Jude turns his head, flicks his hair in the act. He's not going to think about water, even standing a couple of yards from it. He doesn't think Bodhi's about to rush him and hold him down. "I know my way out of a cave-in," he reasserts, because it makes him feel good to know his way out of something. "It was smart to stay out, but the earthquakes don't frighten me."