The Down Below

by matthew lewis

  Part 3

  Retracing Steps

  Milly stumbled as she moved through grass nearly two feet taller than herself, the thorns and thistles grabbing at the sleeves and the bottom of her pants, ensnaring anything it could attach itself to. Barbed tangles jutted and little mouths seemed to suckle, but Milly would not be thwarted.

  Outfitted in her exploration wear, a ponytail replacing braids and a safety strap holding her glasses firmly, Milly felt prepared for anything nature threw her way. She carried a pouch slung over her back, filled with odds and ends, from the small shovel she bought with her allowance to the tiny hammer and notebooks for cataloging. She also carried her canteen and her lunch, a collection of found items ranging from string and loose change, and even a pocket knife.

  She felt ready, willing, and amazingly enabled.

  After three hours of plunging deeper into the unheralded expanses, Milly began noticing familiar sights protruding from the landscape. At first she thought she was perhaps overanxious and continued undeterred, but markers that seemed vaguely familiar became items that were hard to mistake, finally becoming landmarks of sorts, dotting the world around her. Luck seemed an ally as she stumbled across the scene of the old accident, pausing to stare before continuing, looking around in the weeds, searching for it.

  The place from her memories.

  She was close.

  Milly pushed aside greenery by the handful, clutching at thorns and brambles and ailing weeds, hoping to see more of the thing she knew was out there. It took some time to clear the debris but she approached it with wild abandon, and after almost thirty minutes she felt she was making headway.

  There was something there, something large, and it seemed vaguely familiar. Like a piece of a puzzle she had misplaced in the past, or like something she had dropped and had forgotten to pick up, lost, but now.. now suddenly here.

  As Milly pulled at the tangle of weeds, she could hear something in the back of her mind that sounded a lot like music. She kept telling herself it was not there, that she was just imagining things, but the noise kept pressing inward. A song. Singing.

  It had a voice like an angel but no words she could recall, and something, the song perhaps, had her pulling at the debris for another hour, not noticing anything changing around her, the time ticking away without any consolation.

  Normally something like that would have made Milly tired or hungry, but today the opposite occurred. She needed to keep going. She had to.

  Wanting.

  More time slipped away.

  Milly hadn't noticed the morning drifting toward noon or noon pass toward afternoon, but she did notice when the thing she had giving so much of her time to was clear of weeds and debris. Even some of the dirt had been pushed to the side, clearing off the top a little, allowing her to look at it and see it in its glory.

  There was a surface the color of rust and stone, with moss covering a portion of the upper right, grass claiming an area toward the lower bottom. Stones sat around a large surface that had bled onto the grass itself, the rock below looking a lot like the leftovers of some bygone landslide, Milly beginning to pick at a large, smooth piece, trying to uncover a little more so she could see what slept beneath.

  At first Milly did not think she could budge the piece because it seemed like it had been there forever, but a concerted effort scanning the item showed her a way to look inside. A tree was growing close by and one of its roots had pushed through the area, not managing to pierce the object itself but managing to undermine its support, causing hairline fractures to appear everywhere. This pushed at its base, revealing what seemed to be a cover of some type and, underneath, a gap.

  A much deeper hole.

  Milly moved closer, curiosity burning in her veins, wondering what, if anything, could be located so far down. She was reminded of stories about locals finding treasure buried beneath farms, a king's ransom suddenly being spat up by the Earth, moving cautiously, more inquisitive, prodding the area with a prying mind and roving body until...a rumbling and then collapse.

  The ground itself began shifting.

  Milly felt her stance temporarily shift and glanced nervously downward, wondering what, exactly, fate had in store. She had dared the ground to defy her , tempting fate by a returning to the exact spot where tragedy had already taken its toll, so when something began moving underfoot she was not surprised.

  Fear owned ever fiber of her being and she wanted to scream so badly, but she stifled it and every other emotion leaking to the surface, trying her best to move, hoping the reaction would seem like providence to muscles too consumed by luck to think of destiny.