by C. L. Stone
The signal sounded again.
“Sawdust pile,” Derrick called behind me.
I’d never seen the sawdust pile. I remembered Nathan telling me not to go over there and I hadn’t been back here since that day. He’d said it was dangerous. Didn’t Micah and Tom know that?
At the end of the tall grass path, there was a smaller, dusty trail off to the right between clusters of trees. We had an easier time with this one since the ground was smoothed, dry and cracked. Derrick sped up and I did my best to keep near him. I wondered if North and the others would be able to follow. I didn’t want to betray the secret, but if there really was trouble, I hoped they could come in and help.
We came out of the trail on the other side. There was a clearing about as big as a football field. At the far end was a pile of sawdust about as big as the garage at home.
Tom was at the foot of it, waving his hands after us. Beads of sweat trailed down his dirty cheeks. “He’s going to sink in,” he cried out.
I glanced up. Micah was at the top of the pile, waist deep into the dust. His shirt was off. He looked nervous, but the moment he set his eyes on me behind Derrick, he frowned. “Why’d you bring her with you?”
“You’re probably lucky she did come along,” Derrick said, pulling his bike up near the pile and stopping. He got off, dropping it. His bare chest was heaving as he caught his breath. “What in the world were you thinking climbing up there?”
“We were testing it out.”
“That was stupid.”
I stopped my bike next to Derrick’s. I wasn’t eager to stand in the grass in my bare feet but the grass was softer than I thought it looked. I stood back, putting my hands on my hips and looking up at Micah. “How do we get him out?”
“Climb up and yank him out, I guess.”
I nodded. Derrick was right. They needed me right now. I was lighter. Someone like Kota or Nathan being much heavier might create more problems. Derrick was probably too heavy for this but I wouldn’t want to ask Tom to climb up there.
“Let’s do it before the cavalry catches up,” Derrick said.
“They’re coming?” Micah said. “I told you she’d tell.”
“She didn’t tell. They were there when you signaled.” Derrick planted a foot onto the pile. “If we hurry, they might not find out at all.” He gingerly put his weight onto it. His foot nestled into the collection of sawdust but he didn’t sink. He stepped forward again, crawling his way slowly up the pile.
I gritted my teeth. I had to do it. We were the only ones here. If we waited any longer, he could sink in and disappear. I placed my bare foot onto the sawdust, feeling the grit, like thick sand, under my feet. I was half expecting a thousand splinters but it was softer than I expected.
I didn’t sink. I placed my hands into the dust to scramble up.
Derrick slipped up next to Micah, his hands out and looking unsteady. He inched closer to Micah. The dust started to collect over the tops of his feet. “It’s softer up here,” he warned me. “Be careful.”
I nodded. I climbed up on the other side of Micah, approaching like Derrick had done by sidling up slow. On top of the pile, it was easier to walk across but I was sinking in deeper, too. The sawdust spread out under my feet, swallowing me up to almost my ankles. I tried not to look at how high up we were, like standing on a rooftop.
Derrick frowned. “We’ll have to do this a little at a time.” He reached down, holding out a hand. “Give me your hand, Micah.”
Micah groaned, shoving a hand up. As he did, he sunk a little lower, until the dust claimed him up to his ribs. “Hurry,” he said. He lifted his other hand toward me.
I stepped closer, tilting almost unbalanced as the sawdust below my feet started to shift again. I planted my feet as best as I could. I reached out, clasped at Micah’s hand. I locked my fingers around his palm, trying to make sure I had a good grip. “Ready,” I said.
“Pull him up slow,” Derrick said to me. “If there’s a sink hole here, we don’t want to fall in after him.”
I nodded.
Derrick counted out. “One, two ...”
I pulled. Derrick yanked up. Micah started coming up, exposing his bare belly button. As we tugged at Micah, we sunk in. The sawdust filled in over my ankles.
“Stop,” Derrick said. He readjusted. “Pull yourself out, try not to sink in any further.”
I pulled my feet out, allowing sawdust to fill in the space and trying to stand on top of it. I did sink in but only to cover part of my foot.
We pulled together again. This time we got Micah up far enough so I could see his hip bones.
“Wait,” Micah said. “Don’t do any more.”
“Why not?” Derrick asked. “We don’t have time to wait.”
Micah rumbled. “My shorts aren’t coming up with me.”
“Well you should have thought about that before you decided to go jump into a sawdust pile. I’ve told you to stay out of here.”
“I’ll close my eyes if you want.,” I said, eager to get this over with.
Micah cursed under his breath. “Whatever. Just pull.”
“On three again,” Derrick said.
I collected Micah’s hand. His hands were sweaty, making it harder to hold on to him.
“One.”
The sawdust shifted around my feet again as I tensed, sinking me a little down around my ankles again. I regripped again, hoping another good real tug would get him high enough that he could pull himself out.
“Two.”
“Baby! Get your ass off of there!”
North’s deep voice was so pleading, so desperate that it jolted me. I stumbled off-balance.
The ground shifted.
Micah sunk in to his shoulders. His hand grasped mine in a death grip.
Unbalanced, I dropped down over on top of him, afraid to let go. If I let go, we wouldn’t be able to find him if he sank down deeper.
Before his head went under, I curled myself over him to cover his face.
Derrick landed on top of me, possibly thinking the same thing. He grabbed at my waist, still hanging on to Micah’s hand around me.
The sawdust piled up around us.
LETTING GO
The feeling was familiar, like being surrounded by pool water. It was stifling hot, warmer, thicker, itchier.
It was also pitch black.
Micah was scrambling below me. I wasn’t sure how he was moving so much but the more he twisted and turned, the further we sank together.
I held his hand, squeezed it, willing him to stop.
With my free hand, I cupped around my mouth, trying to keep the sawdust away from my face and trying not to breathe it in.
At some point we settled. Derrick was hunched over my head, pulling up and away from me using his back. He held up the sawdust around him, creating an air pocket. I felt the space opening up next to his face and chest.
“Pull him up,” Derrick said through the dark. He readjusted his grip until he was holding me up around my shoulders.
I yanked on Micah’s hand and tried to pull him up against me. When he broke through next to my head, he sputtered, spitting and gasping.
“We need to cover our faces,” Derrick said. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold this up.”
An idea sparked through me. “Hang on to Derrick,” I told Micah.
Micah didn’t answer, but he let go of my hand to double up on Derrick’s arm. Derrick yanked him up higher.
I shifted, sinking slightly but wrenched off my tank top. I was too scared to be modest now, and they couldn’t see me anyway. We needed something to cover our faces and I was the only one wearing a shirt. At least I had a bra.
I pulled up the tank top into the air pocket. I felt around for Derrick’s hand. “Can you rip this?”
Derrick snatched the shirt from me. He grunted. There were ripping sounds. A second later, a cloth was shoved at my head.
“Keep it around your nose and mouth. Breathe through
the cloth. Don’t suck in any more sawdust.”
I shoved the cloth of my shirt toward my face.
“Take slow breaths. Save the oxygen. I don’t know how long it will take them to find us.”
I wanted to do what he was telling us, but the cloth made the already unbearable warmth around us suffocating. I was sweating. The sawdust stuck to my skin.
Muffled voices seeped down to us. There was pressure above our bodies, and I wasn’t sure if we were sinking further or if it was the guys on top of us and looking.
Micah coughed, convulsing his whole body. We started sinking again.
“I’m going to get him on top of us,” Derrick said. His voice was muffled now, and I imagined he had stuffed the cloth into his face. “I’m going to push him up so they get to him. This will probably cave in. Hang on to my leg. Don’t let go.”
“Okay.” I felt my way down Derrick’s body, embarrassed to think of certain parts I might have accidentally felt.
I wrapped an arm around his thigh, clinging to his jean cut offs, shoving the cloth into my face. With my knuckles protruding out from my face, it created my own little air pocket. Some sawdust still shifted in around my mouth but it was better than practically eating it.
Derrick shifted. Micah was pulled away. The harder Derrick pushed Micah higher up above him, the heavier the dust around us settled, weighing us down. I wasn’t sure if we were sinking further because of it.
I clung to Derrick’s leg in the dark. I hoped. I pleaded. I screamed in my head. I felt tears in my eyes. I didn’t want that because the sawdust stuck to my eyes and I had to squeeze them shut to keep it out.
All I could think of was how I didn’t want to die. North was wrong. I wasn’t self-destructive. I wanted very much to live. I couldn’t imagine dying in this nasty, itchy place. Their faces flashed through my mind. I wanted to be back with them. They were everything I wanted. In that moment, I knew. I had depended on them so much. I depended on them now. I should have never kept this a secret. I should have trusted them with everything. They were out there, I knew. I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t see them. I could barely make out their muffled shouts above my head as sawdust filled in my ears. I simply knew they were there. The Academy was always there.
I wanted them. I wanted Kota and Nathan and Silas and Gabriel and Luke and Victor and North and Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green. How horrible it would be if they spent all this effort in keeping me safe and I ended up dying right here.
I would try harder, I promised myself. I would work every day. I would never complain. I would never think of wanting a day off. I never truly wanted one, anyway. It didn’t matter to me. What mattered was that the guys were around. If we worked at the diner, if we were coordinating things at the high school, I would follow. I knew then that if they were in the Academy, that’s where I wanted to be, too. If I could only get in, I would no longer be sitting on the sidelines wondering where they were and unable to go with them.
I would finally feel like I was part of their family. In the real way. In the way Kota had promised me and I had yet to feel completely attuned to. The Academy was the answer. Despite Kota’s warnings, and Mr. Blackbourne’s grim report that it was almost impossible, I knew it was my only answer. Without the Academy, I could never really be a part of them because it was the part of them that they could never trust me with. Family meant trust. I had to earn it.
If I survived, I would do whatever it took.
Derrick started shifting above me. His leg moved up. He was either pulling himself up or getting pulled.
I clutched at Derrick’s thigh. I pushed my face against it as I readjusted the cloth over my mouth.
Only as Derrick was getting pulled, when I clutched at him to hang on, he shifted down again further.
He shifted up again.
I clutched to him.
He shifted down further.
I was weighing him down.
I whimpered against the cloth in my face. As hot as my face was, my feet felt like they were scalding. The further we sank, it was burning more. It was too much to bear.
And if I held on to Derrick, he’d never get out. We were falling together.
I swallowed, feeling a couple of bits of sawdust against my itchy throat. I knew what I had to do and I didn’t want to do it. His leg was all I had right now.
And if I didn’t let go, we’d sink further into this and drown together.
I released him.
SANG UNLEASHED
I could only release a little, backing away. I felt him slipping further up, although the shorts remained behind, his legs started moving up again.
Derrick tensed hard, shifting his knee, almost kicking me. He stopped. I didn’t understand what he was doing.
I thought maybe he was stuck, so I felt around, reaching for his knee. He tensed again, and he started moving up.
This time, since I didn’t have a good grip, I simply followed him with my hand, feeling at his calf. He was being pulled up.
The weight of the sawdust, though was growing heavy around me. Heavier than before. Derrick must have still been holding up a good portion of the dust.
He was still rising though. I followed with my hand, trying to straighten my body. If he got pulled out, I would be found next.
He drifted further up, my hand slipped down to right above his ankle.
He stopped. I squeezed. I’m fine. Just go.
He was pulled up again, this time I held on to his ankle, trying to use his momentum to get myself to move further up.
I tried a swimming motion Nathan taught me, only it wasn’t working. The more I tried to push myself up, the dust tightened in around me.
The best I could do was drift a hand up as Derrick started getting pulled up again.
When Derrick was no longer moving, I pushed up. Go.
He shifted.
Go, I pleaded silently through my fingers. I squeezed again.
He shifted up, this time so quickly that his foot slipped away from my grasp. I clutched at sawdust.
But I wasn’t sinking and neither was Derrick.
There was shifting above my head. I had no idea how far I was into the sawdust. The cloth around my face was suffocating but I felt the weight of the dust around it. I wanted to draw my hand in to help cup my face better and to readjust the cloth, maybe readjust and get a new air pocket.
Only I couldn’t move my hand above my head. It was like I knew if I drew back, it would be even harder for them to find me. I also might lose track of which way was up. It was hard to tell now without Derrick being there, so I remained as still as possible.
The waiting was so long.
The heat bore into me, reminding me too much of scalding water on my face.
I coughed, unable to hold it back any more. The sawdust in my mouth reminded me of how scratchy my throat was after swallowing lemon and vinegar.
I bit my tongue. I couldn’t pass out. Not now. Not like in the rain. Not like when I tried to take a shower. If I did it now, they’d never find me. I’d die. I couldn’t die. I would never die on them. Never.
The weight above me shifted again, and so did the sawdust around the hand above my head. Something brushed at my fingertips.
A hand dug in around mine, gripping at my palm.
A thumb traced over the back of my hand.
Victor! I sobbed against the cloth at my face but forced myself to suck in the one that wanted to follow it. Victor! How embarrassing I was thinking the other day that I barely knew them. One touch and it was all it took. I knew what he felt like. I could now recall his berry, moss fragrance and the way his fire eyes lit up when I slipped into the seat behind him in class.
I clutched back. I’m here.
The hand held on, not letting go. Another pair of hands, bigger ones, Silas hands, felt down along my arm, trying to pull me up.
The weight shifted again around me though. I wasn’t coming up, they were yanking my arm but I wasn’t moving. The weight of the
dust was holding my body down.
I was pulled again. Pain radiated through my shoulder. They were going to pull my arm out. I clawed at Victor’s hand to warn them.
They stopped short, as if realizing this. The sawdust shifted around me, lightening but it wasn’t enough. I imagined they were trying to scoop out the sawdust but with them shifting above me, I felt my body being weighted down.
They stopped again. I could almost hear their brains calculating together on their next move.
I coughed again. It was too hard to breathe. The heat was too much and my lungs were starting to hurt. The oxygen wasn’t enough.
I was drowning.
I swallowed. They didn’t have time to think for me anymore. I had to do it myself. I had to help. They couldn’t rescue me without me helping, too.
I let go of the cloth at my face, closing my mouth and trying to relax like I’d done in Nathan’s pool. I could hold my breath for a good minute, I knew. Every second counted.
With my hand now free, I cupped at the wood dust around me. I threaded my hand up, along my arm. It was slow. Sawdust crept into the edges of my mouth. I wanted to spit but if I opened my mouth, I knew all I would get would be dust, not air.
I pushed harder. I pulled on Victor’s hand.
He clasped mine, nearly too hard. He seemed to sense what I was doing. Hang on to me. I’ll pull myself up. And so he was. He’d hold on as long as I needed.
I fought against the onslaught of shifting sawdust, worried that I might be pulling him in. He didn’t seem to move though.
My fingers broke up around my arm, finding one of Silas’s hands. Another hand dropped down next to it, finding my elbow. I recognized Nathan’s calloused fingers. I would have done anything to have popped those into my mouth in that moment.
He gripped at my arm. His other hand found my forearm and he held on. Now they had a better grip of me.