by A E Faulkner
A Jeff-shaped figure leans against a blue pick-up truck, his arms crossed. The frame and height look right but a black wasp-like mask obscures most of his face. This guy isn’t wasting time with a dust mask like the rest of us.
“Aidan, I am your brother,” a breathy voice booms through the mask. We take a step closer and Jeff’s smiling eyes come into focus. Aidan slaps him on the back and eyes the overflowing truck bed. He throws a hand in the air toward it.
“Nice work, man! Riley’s inside and she’s gonna hold the door for us. Let’s get this inside. Not all of us have full-blown doomsday gear like you!”
“You got it! And don’t worry, I got enough masks for all of us!” Jeff nods his head slowly, which only accentuates his resemblance to a giant insect. He throws me a wheezy “hey” before unlatching the tailgate and loading my arms with a large cardboard box. Thankfully it’s not heavy, but its bulk will make traversing all those steps a little tricky.
When I reach the door, Riley promptly holds it open. I wobble inside, squeezing past the frame. The excitement of something new to sniff overcomes Snickers and he rushes to my side, circling my legs. I stumble but catch my footing.
“Down! Stay!” I command, pushing past him. My leg muscles burn with exertion, protesting each move. The relatively flat ground of the cavern can’t appear fast enough. I’ve had my share of descending and climbing these steps for today. But I know we’re just getting started with this load of supplies.
Passing Aidan on my way back up, he flashes me a crooked smile. Although the mask covers his passageways, I can tell by the lopsided hitch in his cheek. He must be thrilled with all the goodies Jeff got.
“The others are coming up to help us,” he calls over his shoulder as we part ways. “They’re just finishing something up and then they’ll join us.” I nod. The more people helping, the less trips for everyone to make.
At least going through all this stuff will keep us busy tonight, and maybe even tomorrow. I can’t imagine there’s much to do underground besides eat, sleep, and rearrange your meager personal belongings for entertainment.
Just as I reach the top of the steps, my legs pleading for a break, Jeff barges through the entryway. He struggles to balance a brown cardboard box advertising its contents as six hundred fire starter sticks. The circular handle opening of a large plastic bag loops around each of his wrists. By the way each bag swings like a pendulum, drawn toward gravity’s pull, I imagine the contents are heavy.
While I admire his commitment to making the least number of trips possible, it’s certainly not the best idea to load up so much that you can barely move. Only Jeff would do that. Rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I rush back to the truck. I want to get this over with.
Digging past the heavier packages, I discover a large box of freeze-dried food. Jackpot! That’s nice and light. Aidan passes by on his way to the truck just before I reach the closed doorway. This will be about the fiftieth time I cross this threshold today.
Waiting for a few minutes, until the last second of patience I have expires, I kick the door. Where is Riley? Her only job is to stand here and hold it open for us. I think it’s time we switched roles. Aidan joins me, nodding at the metal blocking our way.
“What’s she doing?” he asks, slightly muffled by the mask. I hunch my shoulders up. “No idea.” Setting his stack of boxes down, he pounds on the door.
“Hey, open up! We’ve got another load.”
The door careens open and Riley pops out, her features etched with frustration. Before we can ask what’s wrong, words spill from her almost faster than I can comprehend.
“Snickers…he got all excited when he saw Jeff. What is with that guy and dogs?” She sighs. “Anyway, Snickers was all over him, barking and jumping at him. Maybe it was the mask? I was trying to calm him down when you guys started knocking. I think I got him to stop.” A series of yelps echoing behind her claims otherwise.
Dropping his haul, Aidan pushes past Riley, racing inside. My sister and I lock eyes for just a moment before I plunk down the box of food and dash inside with her.
Devastation erupts in our small safe haven. My whole body quakes as a maelstrom of emotions rattle every bone, muscle, and cell.
Chapter 62
Everything happens at once, in that surreal slow-motion effect where you’re powerless to do anything but watch, listen, and breathe. Aidan disappears down the steps, screaming words that run together too quickly to decipher meaning.
A cacophony of sound swarms my ears. Snickers’ yelps, morphing into frightened squeals. The thudding impact of multiple heavy objects tumbling down solid rock. Two seconds of silence.
Then an explosion that propels a flash of heat and a roaring boom through the cavern. The ground under my feet quakes and rumbles, derailing my balance. Instincts guide my body to the ground and my knees hit dirt. Riley huddles next to me, her eyes already watering either with unshed emotion or the impact our bodies absorb.
The lightbulbs bounce on their wires, some clanking into nearby stalagmites or stalactites, whichever the ones growing down from the ceiling are called. A few shatter while others flicker, desperately clinging to their source of power.
Riley grabs my elbow. “There’s a flashlight by the door. I saw it, hanging on the wall.” I nod and rise, bounding toward the entrance. I didn’t notice it before, but she’s right. The orange and black tube hangs from a rusted hook jutting out of the rock. It resembles a gun, but it’s pretty clear the only thing discharging from its flat circular end is a mini-spotlight. I pull the trigger, half expecting it to ignore my prompt but a strong beam of light spills through the plastic lens.
I sweep it across the open space. Dust floats lazily through the air, as if its presence doesn’t signify the result of massive destruction. I’m thankful for the dust mask. At least it’s keeping some of that junk out of my lungs.
A sense of urgency claws at my brain, muddled by the slight ringing in my ears and an overall fatigue from the events of this day. I push up from the ground and edge toward the steps. Riley clings to my side as if we’re velcroed together.
“Stay away from there!” she cries. “Don’t go near the edge!” Cohesive thoughts slither through my brain, attempting to connect and spark action.
“Riley, we’re going down there.” I point to the murky abyss. “We have to check on the guys.” Her eyes widen in horror, but she knows I’m right. Her forehead crinkles and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before nodding her head sharply.
She clutches my hand and I’m grateful that we have each other. Of all the times I’ve needed someone by my side, this one ranks high on the list. We hesitantly creep near the edge just as rumbling bubbles from the depths. We jump back in unison, to the relative safety of the entranceway.
The thunderous crash of detaching rocks violently smashing together overtakes the chamber. Instinctively I drop to the ground, tucking my head between my knees. Dust wafts skyward, particles hovering within our open space. Maybe they’re searching for an escape route.
“Snickers!” Riley cries feebly, choking out that one word with unmistakable anguish. In that moment, anger ignites in the pit of my stomach. We’ve already endured a lifetime’s worth of fear, despair, and loss. If I’m meant to become one with the pits below, then let’s get it over with.
Clenching the fear-fueled tremor in my hands into fists, I rise.
“Quinn, what are you doing?” Riley squeaks. Seeing my sister cower reinforces my determination.
“I’m going down there. Aidan and Jeff are down there, and so are their families.” I point to the edge. Before she can protest, I lean over and place a gentle palm on her back. “I’m tired of always feeling like I have no control over anything that happens to us. Someone may be hurt right now and I’ve gotta help if I can. You stay here. I’ll be back soon.”
Other than the soft echo of pebbles tumbling to the pit below, the chamber is eerily quiet. Until a sharp clicking sound reaches my ears. It
grows slightly louder with each second that passes. Confirming my assumption, a brown ball of fur hurdles over the top step, surging through the clouds of dirt and crashing into us. Snickers yelps but I can’t tell if it’s in joy or pain. Crimson mats the fur on his back leg. If it’s not his, it’s from one of the guys. Either way, it’s a bad sign.
Riley wraps her arms around him, gently cradling him to her chest. I can’t tell if she’s trying to comfort him or if she’s using him to comfort herself. I touch her shoulder. “Take care of him. I’ll be back.” I don’t wait for the inevitable protest bubbling behind her choked tears. I gain my balance and rush down the steps as quickly as I can without losing my footing. Focusing my eyes on each individual step, I concentrate on not plunging over the edge. Every few seconds, I attempt to plot the safest path by stealing glances ahead, although the dancing dust particles limit my ability to see more than a few feet.
When muffled voices reach my ears, I quicken my pace, driven to reach the others. I nearly wail when my eyes land on a prone figure crumpled on the dirt floor. My heart knows what my eyes refuse to confirm. It’s Aidan.
Chapter 63
With no concern for what may be unsteady ground beneath my feet, I dart toward him. Sliding into the gravel on my knees, I lean over his body. Tugging his arm, I repeat his name over and over, an indirect command for him to be okay.
His eyelids flutter, allowing me just a glimpse of those cerulean irises. The slits widen into clouded shock as his eyes search our surroundings. I know our situation is less than awesome, but at least he seems to be relatively unscathed. Relief dares to dance through my soul.
Gulping a deep breath, he immediately keels forward, hacking up whatever oxygen his lungs harbored. Not sure what else to do, I pat his back as if he’s choking. At least he knows someone is here with him. Seemingly clearing out every dust particle invading his air passages, he continues to cough for several minutes.
“Aidan? Anyone over there?” The words are muffled but I can make them out. It sounds like Aidan’s dad.
“It’s Quinn and Aidan! Where are you?” I rise, letting the voice guide me closer. The sound leads to darkness though, to the very spot that Aidan escorted me through the tunnel earlier. But there’s no tunnel there anymore.
“Oh, thank goodness. It’s Scott, Aidan’s dad. Is everyone accounted for over there?” Even through the newly-formed barrier, I can sense the trepidation in his question. “Yes!” I assure him. Each of us may be afflicted with fresh emotional or physical scars, but he doesn’t need to worry about that right now.
“That’s good news. But I fear that’s where the good news ends. We had a cave-in on this side and I’m guessing you’ve got a mirror image of it. Tell me what you see,” he coaxes. Aidan slowly sits up, rubbing his head. He listens as I describe the space. The steps remain intact, and they still lead to the flat landing above, but one major component of the area has vanished, perhaps swallowed up by the cave itself.
“Well, the steps are here, but where they’re supposed to lead to the tunnel, it’s just a wall of rock and dirt now.”
“That’s what I thought,” Scott interjects. He pauses for a moment before continuing. “Jeff was loaded with boxes and bags…he tripped and tumbled down the steps. There must have been nitroglycerin in something he was carrying. I can’t imagine what else could cause that kind of damage.”
Lowering his voice slightly, it’s as if he’s suddenly talking to himself. “Why the hell would nitroglycerin be in there?” I can almost envision him raking a hand through his dark hair, like I’ve seen Aidan do so many times. Refocusing on the moment, he continues. “The packages he was carrying must have crashed together and ignited. Pretty much blew the damn tunnel to bits.”
Aidan pushes himself up off the ground, but his gait is shaky. I rush to his side and he immediately wraps an arm around my shoulder for support. I’m grateful he’s accepting my help so easily. Grayish streaks mar his cheeks and forehead. His hair scatters in tufts more restless than usual. Sprinklings of dust cover his head and body, enhancing his newly-rugged appearance.
While none of that makes him look any less handsome in this moment, one detail concerns me. Although he leans on me for support, his right leg slightly dangles, as if he doesn’t want it even grazing the ground. I search his eyes for answers, but the worry etched there convinces me to stay quiet. For the moment anyway.
“Dad, where’s Jeff?” Aidan demands, staring at the mass of stone before us, as if he can see his father through it.
“Oh, son, I’m glad to hear your voice,” Scott answers. “He’s over here. We have him. But he’s in pretty bad shape. He was…very close to the blast…and he got knocked around pretty bad.”
I imagine he’s over there sighing right now, just a few feet away separated by the impossible barrier.
Aidan attempts to extract more details from his dad, but his shaky limbs confirm that he’s struggling to stand, and I know we have more pressing issues. For one, Riley and I need to check his leg.
Scott cuts the conversation short, assuring us that no one else was injured, although they’re all anxious and emotional. Jeff’s parents especially. He explains that the wall between us isn’t solid, so we can hear each other through the gaps. We’re going to have to find a way to connect our space to theirs, but he doesn’t want anyone approaching the rubble just yet. It may still be settling and the last thing we need is another injury or further collapse.
Besides Jeff’s condition, our biggest challenge at the moment is the inability to share supplies. Aidan’s dad instructs us to finish unloading the truck quickly so that we can move it away from the entrance and hide it behind the property’s maintenance garage. He confirms that Aidan knows where that is.
Guilt courses through me, overwhelming my ears as they mute everything else but the rapid pounding of my heart. His dad has no idea that Aidan was hurt in the explosion too. On this side of the rock wall, we keep our mouths shut about that. No sense tacking on one more thing for his dad to worry about when there’s nothing he can do.
“All three of you over there, go and unload that truck. Get the supplies inside and then come back, let me know when you’re done. We’ve still got a lot to do. We just have to shuffle around our priorities.”
Chapter 64
Every teenager, at some point, has despised being told what to do by an adult. But right now, having someone else in charge, telling us what comes next, is comforting. I imagine my dad would react the same way—taking control of the situation and giving everyone assignments to help however they could. I wish he were here.
Searching Aidan’s eyes for approval, I offer an encouraging smile when he gives me a sharp nod. Turning our bodies away from the tunnel remains, I guide him toward the steps. It’s a long way up when you have two good legs. I don’t even want to think about how we’re going to do this when he must outweigh me by at least fifty pounds and he’s trying to skitter along on one leg and my shoulder.
“So why don’t you tell me about what happened to your leg?” Might as well glean any information I can. It’ll be a distraction from what I’m sure will be a slow progression up.
He breathes out a sigh that morphs into a lung-cleansing cough. “Sorry,” he barks out. Clearing his throat, he explains, “I tried to get to him but before I was even halfway down, I saw him lose his balance.” He stops moving, which is almost difficult to distinguish given our snail’s pace, and locks eyes with me. “Snickers was running up and down the steps, around his feet. I think that tripped him up.”
My free hand flies to my mouth and my shoulders drop into a mortified slump. “Oh my gosh! I feel terrible. This is all our faul—”
He reaches up and rests his palm over my hand. “Look, it’s no one’s fault and placing blame isn’t going to help anything. All that matters now is that everyone’s okay.”
At least he doesn’t blame us. I hope the others don’t either when they find out our dog caused this.
&nbs
p; Those blue eyes blaze with emotions—worry, disbelief and, most importantly, hope. Reality returns too quickly when his hand starts to tremble. I know it’s not nervousness. Reluctantly removing the warmth of his touch, I press his palm to the railing.
Quickly calculating our only option to navigate the upward trek, I nudge a shoulder under his arm to better support his injured side. “Let’s get you up there. You’re going to take it easy so Riley and I can check you for injuries and then the two of us will unload the truck. You can’t do it in this condition.”
“I can’t stick you two with all that,” he protests. When his good foot slips, momentarily jarring our balance, I simply raise my eyebrows as if to say, “See what I’m talking about?!”
“Alright, fine,” he mutters. “But bring everything inside and hide the truck first. Then you can conduct a thorough inspection of my injuries.” Out of the corner of his eye, he searches for my reaction. I can’t help it, in the midst of our latest disaster, he’s given me a reason to smile.
The rest of our ascent consists of small talk and small steps. At least the dust has settled, and the cavern has returned to its former stillness. A wave of relief awakens my aching muscles as we near the top. I don’t mind being this close to Aidan, but my back doesn’t appreciate the added weight of his nearly six-foot frame.
Riley appears at the top of the steps, peering down at us. She must have rushed over when she heard our approaching shuffle-grunt movements.
“Are you guys okay? What happened? Where’s everyone else?” She paces, wringing her hands as she fires off questions.
When we crest the top step, she retrieves Aidan’s hand from the railing and wraps his arm around her shoulder. His weight shifts, sending immediate relief to my back and legs.