by Kim Liggett
“It’s a boulder choke,” I say, staring up the incline. “This must’ve happened during the collapse. One wrong move and—”
“Splat.” Darryl swallows hard enough that we hear it.
“How do we do this?” Shy asks.
“Maybe we can rig up one of Grant’s ropes?” Kit shines his light on the ceiling. “Pull ourselves up.”
“Like that scene from Rambo four, right?” Darryl goes to high-five him, but Kit just shakes his head.
“Do I look like I’ve seen Rambo four?”
“This is where you come in.” Shy snaps her fingers in front of me. “What’s our next move?”
“I’m thinking,” I say, swatting her hand away. I’m trying to remember anything about a boulder choke, but all I can recall is “steer clear,” which isn’t going to help.
Her eyes widen. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Just give me a second … some room to breathe.” I wipe the cold sweat from my brow with my sleeve. “I remember something about this from my class.”
“Your class?” Shy balks. “So you’ve actually never seen one before?”
“Yeah. That’s how people learn things.” I steal a glance at her and wish I hadn’t. “I may not remember every detail, but—”
“Why?” she needles me. “If you knew you were coming down here by yourself, with no food, no water, why wouldn’t you have paid attention to every single detail? You don’t strike me as stupid. Unless you’ve got some kind of death wish.”
I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. I don’t even know how to begin to answer that.
“I see guys like you at meets all the time.” She shakes her head. “You’ve got all the right gear, elite coaches, special training, the best that money can buy, but it’s all just for show. Isn’t it?”
I pretend I don’t hear her.
“That’s what I thought.” She steps away.
“What … so we’re basically screwed?” Daryl starts pacing in front of the boulders. “I knew this was a bad idea. But you’re Maria’s best friend. Sure, come with,” he says in a mocking tone. “It’ll be a blast, she said.”
“So this is my fault?” Shy raises her voice. “Excuse me for wanting to include you in something other than sitting around in your underwear watching TV.”
“Hey,” Maria says. “You don’t have to talk to him like that.”
“Let’s get out of the city, breathe clean air,” Darryl says as he waves his arms around. “I can borrow my grandma’s car. It’ll be such a pretty drive.”
“Just shut up, Darryl,” Kit says. “Don’t you ever get tired of listening to your stupid voice?”
“You should talk.” Maria turns on Kit.
I can’t stand listening to them argue, especially when I know this is all my fault.
“Look, I can help.” I step directly into the fray. “At least I knew what this thing is called. I’ve studied this cave system. I know it by heart. There are six exits to this system, and with the collapse there could be a lot more now.”
“Or a lot less,” Shy says, turning her full attention back on me. “I saw you heading for that second entrance, and we all know it was closed off. But you went in anyways, didn’t you?”
“Come on, Shy.” Kit comes to my defense. “Lay off.”
“Why? He’s the reason we’re down here.”
“Were you following me?” I ask, wondering if she could be the person I’ve been seeing all this time.
“Even if he did cause the collapse, he didn’t do it on purpose,” Kit says.
“Are you so sure about that?”
“Why would he do that?” Kit places his hand on her shoulder.
She pulls away from him. “Because, look at him…” she says as she gets in my face. “Rules don’t apply to people like him. You think you’re above everything, don’t you?” She grabs onto my coat. “You think you’re better than us.”
I don’t fight her. I don’t struggle to get free. Instead, I look her dead in the eyes. “Actually, I think I’m the lowest form of scum on the planet.”
This seems to catch her off guard.
“What’s gotten into you?” Maria says as she pulls Shy off me.
She staggers back, taking in deep huffs of air.
“Everyone needs to calm it down,” Kit says. “At Mo’s junkyard I climb stuff like this all the time. Stacked-up cars, electronics. We just have to find the safest route. I’m quick on my feet.” He looks back at Shy. “I can do this.”
Shy takes in a few more deep breaths before giving him a slight nod.
“Kit,” I call out, tossing him a roll of reflective tape from my pack.
He snatches it out of the air. “What’s this for?”
“To mark your path for the others.”
“Sweet,” he says as he tears off a bunch of pieces, putting them on his hand for easy access.
Running with it, Kit flips up his hoodie and then ducks between two boulders, hoisting himself up on the biggest one. He grins back at us. “See, no sweat.” But when it starts to rock, he quickly leaps onto a different stone and tags it.
We’re all watching him with bated breath as he crawls, worms, and contorts his wiry frame through the maze of boulders to find a safe path.
When he finally reaches the top of the slope, he’s just a hazy silhouette. And I can picture him, clear as day, standing on top of the junk pile as a kid, victorious.
“You guys aren’t going to believe this,” he says, panning his flashlight over the scene on the other side.
“Do you see light?” Shy asks with a shallow breath.
“No, but it looks like Santa’s Village … from the mall.”
“Great.” Maria presses her lips together and nods. “He’s hallucinating now.”
While Kit directs them from above, Darryl goes next, followed by Maria.
I want to take this moment to say something to Shy, to explain myself, but what can I possibly say?
She’s right. We’re not friends. I don’t know these people. And they don’t want to know me. The best thing I can do is keep my mouth shut until I get them to the surface. They’ll find out who I really am, what I’ve done, soon enough.
Shy goes next, vaulting onto the first boulder with ease.
I wait until she’s halfway up, just to give her some space. I’m copying every hand placement, every curve of her foot, when I hear something sharp clattering against the rocks.
“What was that?” Kit calls down, shining his flashlight over the rocks.
“I told you guys I heard something earlier,” Darryl whispers.
“No. It’s just my stupid flashlight,” Shy grumbles. “It slipped between the rocks, but I think I can get it.” She shoves her arm through the gap, straining to reach it, when something shifts. I feel it before I can even see it, like one of those wind-up jack-in-the-box toys on the verge of springing open.
I start scrambling up the incline, when the boulder next to her begins to rock forward. Swinging my pack around, I shove it in the gap before it completely pulverizes her arm. She’s fighting to pull herself free, but she’s pinned, the rock holding her like a vise.
I crouch beside her, completely out of breath. The look on her face—it’s like looking at a ghost. “Are you okay?”
She nods, but I can tell she’s scared.
The stone lets out an angry groan like it’s hungry.
Darryl shines his light directly on us. “What’s going on?”
“I’m coming down,” Kit says.
“Don’t,” I yell back, shielding my eyes. “Stay where you are … and get that light off of us.”
As I’m trying to find a safe foothold, Shy whispers, “My arm.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I murmur, but it looks bad. If this settles by even another half an inch, it’s going to destroy her humerus.
“You don’t understand,” she says between clenched teeth. “I need this arm.” Her eyes are glassy with fear. I’ve seen that look before.r />
“Discus, right?” I need to keep her talking while I figure out a way to free her without causing an avalanche.
“It’s all I have.” She winces as the stone grinds down another quarter centimeter. “If I lose this arm, I lose scholarships, sponsorship, the Olympics … any hope of taking care of—I can’t lose this arm, do you get me?”
“I do.” I give her a reassuring nod. “And I’m going to help you, but you have to listen to me. Focus. I’m going to push the rock back, but I’ll only be able to hold it for a second. As soon as you feel it give, I need you to grab the pack and get to the top as fast as you can.”
“But if it rolls back on you—”
“I don’t care about that.” I look her straight in the eyes. “Right now, all I care about is you … your arm. Okay?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t—”
“You won’t owe me anything. After this, we’re even.”
I can’t tell if it’s sweat or tears running down her face, but she manages to nod.
Digging my heels into the crack of an enormous boulder, I lean my shoulder against the rock and push with my entire body. “Go,” I grunt.
As she pulls herself free, grabs the pack, and scrambles to the top, I feel the entire ground move beneath me. Maybe it’s just my body trembling with the strain, but I feel like the stone is talking to me, telling me to let go. And I hope this is it, that I’ve served my purpose, found a sliver of redemption in the end. Maybe it’s just the shock talking but, in this moment, I feel almost serene about the whole thing. I let go and close my eyes, waiting to be taken—waiting—but nothing happens.
Hearing them scream my name, I open my eyes to find boulders collapsing all around me. I look up and Shy is urging me to run … to live. All I want to do is stand here, wait for a boulder to take me, but if I don’t at least try, she’s going to have to carry around the guilt of my death for the rest of her life. I know all too well what that can do to a person.
I’ll have to find another way.
Dodging stone and debris, I claw my way up the crumbling incline. My muscles are burning with fatigue, but the adrenaline takes over.
The roar of the stone crashing to the bottom is deafening, and by the time I reach the top, the entire landscape has changed, exposing a new layer of deadly stone beneath. Nature’s booby trap. I stare into the dark tunnel below. If there’s someone else down here, I’ll definitely hear them coming.
As soon as I catch my breath, I dig my spare flashlight out of my bag and hand it to Shy.
I’m expecting a thanks, maybe a look of gratitude, but she gives away nothing. If anything, I wonder if this made her hate me even more. I don’t think she liked being that vulnerable in front of me. I’d never tell anyone, but, in that brief moment, I think I caught a glimpse of who she really is. She’s tough, but there’s a softness underneath all that. And maybe we’re the same in that way, desperately trying to cling to our armor.
It’s probably just exhaustion or the cold getting under my skin, but for some reason I can’t stop wondering what a smile would look like on her face.
14
THEY all take turns sliding down a huge slab of stone into an enormous cavern filled with breathtaking gobs of crystal and shimmering white calcite formations dripping down like icing.
“What’d I tell you,” Kit says as he spins around. “Welcome to Santa’s Village.”
“It’s cold enough,” Maria says with an audible shiver.
I slide down after them, not nearly as gracefully, bashing my head against a giant column.
Everything goes dark for a moment, but then slowly, the majestic ceiling comes back into soft focus.
“It sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road,” I whisper.
“Hey…” Kit nudges me with his sneaker.
“Is he all right?” Darryl asks.
Maria leans over me. “His eyes are dilated.”
“He’s fine.” Shy offers me a hand. I grasp on and she pulls me up. “Emily Dickinson, right?” she says as an aside.
“I said that out loud?” I rub my head.
She shoots me a look I can’t decipher. She’s probably thinking what a pretentious ass I am, but that’s the least of my problems right now.
As we explore the vast space, it feels like our lights are growing dimmer, but it’s the space that’s expanding, swallowing up our light in big, heaving gulps.
“I don’t remember seeing anything like this from the guidebook,” I say, trying to pull myself back together.
“What if we discovered a whole new cave system?” Kit gawks at the scenery. “Maybe they’ll name it after us. Or me, really. Kit’s Cave. Has the best ring to it.”
“You can have it,” Shy says, flinching away from a dripping stalactite. “I hate this place.”
Darryl paces the floor like that deranged polar bear at the zoo they had to put down. “Grant’s reciting poetry, Kit’s lost in some Santa fantasy. Does anyone want to snap back to reality, because I’d really like to get out of here.”
“Aw … is someone getting hungwy?” Kit says in a whiny voice, rubbing his eyes like a crying baby.
Darryl takes a swipe at him, but Kit’s too fast.
“You guys, come on,” Shy says as she stands in front of an enormous stretch of rock dividing the center of the cavern. “We need to decide. Stick to the right tunnel or the left.”
“Anyone have a coin?” Kit says.
As everyone’s digging in their pockets, a tremendous gust of air rushes over us, making Shy’s ponytail sway.
“Please tell me you guys felt that,” she says.
“What the…” Darryl shines his light up the stone wall, focusing in on a wide slit above.
“Air is good,” Kit says as he climbs up, shining his flashlight inside the gap. “That’s got to be coming from the surface.”
“Possibly,” I say as I climb up to peek inside. “But caves can be deceptive. A sound you hear could be miles away or right over your shoulder. Same with air. It could be coming from the surface or it could just be pressure forcing the air to move. Caves take in air and push it out. Like breath.”
“That’s not at all creepy,” Kit says as he climbs inside the opening. “This thing is endless, but it’s only about three feet high. We’d have to crawl.”
“I know how to crawl.” Darryl lights up. “I’ve been working on it.”
Everyone looks at him like maybe he’s the one losing it now.
“I know Maria’s a ballbuster,” Kit laughs, “but—”
“For basic training, you sickos,” he says defensively. “The key is to use your forearms instead of your elbows, but there’s no avoiding the knees.”
Another gust of air comes through and Kit grins back at us. “I think we should go for it. What do we have to lose?”
“I don’t know … our lives?” Maria places her hands on her hips.
“Kit’s right,” I say as I check out the other tunnels. “I don’t feel air in either one of these.”
“On that show Legends and Myths…” Darryl runs his hand over the rock face. “They said the natives thought caves were sleeping giants. So I guess we’re basically going to be crawling down the giant’s throat.”
“On that note,” Kit says as he hops down and places his hand on my shoulder. “I think Grant should take the lead on this one. He’s got the best light.”
“Yeah, okay,” I say, trying to swallow my nerves. Ever since the incident I’ve had issues with confined spaces, which is funny, considering where I am now. But this was never part of the plan. I should be dead by now.
As I’m making sure my pack is secure, I swear I hear that wordless whisper. It could just be the air moving through the slit in the rock, but it feels like something more.
I’m staring into the dark, toward the boulder choke, when Shy steps in front of me.
“What do you keep looking for? Are you expecting someone?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Sure,” she answers. But I can tell by the way she’s looking at me that she knows I’m lying.
Climbing up to the gap, I shove my pack in first and then crawl inside the crevice.
The strange breeze pushes against me. To Kit, it might feel like an invitation, but to me, it feels ominous, like it doesn’t want us to come in. And we have no idea what’s on the other end of this. Could be a huge drop or could narrow to a point we can’t get through. And backing out of this thing would be a nightmare, at best.
The stone is wet and cold, and the air is more humid in here, if that’s even possible. As I inch forward, I realize what it reminds me of: a coffin.
I’m trying not to make any contact with the stone ceiling above me, but it’s impossible to avoid. Every time it skims across my spine, I’m reminded of how trapped I feel.
As I move forward, I hear them behind me, joking around, laughing. It should put me at ease, knowing they’re here with me, but it only makes me feel more alone.
A tremendous roar of crushing stone permeates the atmosphere; I freeze in place.
“That sounds like the boulder choke,” Darryl says.
“Maybe it’s a rescue team,” Maria whispers. “Should we go back?”
“It’s probably just the rocks settling,” Shy says. “We have to keep moving. If it’s a rescue team, they’ll find us.”
As much as I try to bar the thought from my head, I can’t help wondering if it’s the person who’s been following me, coming for justice.
And just like that, everything I’ve done, everything I came down here for, comes crashing over me again.
Grinding my knees into the rock, I keep pressing forward, but it feels like I’m trudging through glue. My breath is coming in short bursts now—at least I think it’s my breath. I stop to listen, but all I hear is the pounding of my heart, thrumming in my ear drums, like a wet hammer.
Laying my cheek against the cold wet stone, I feel the rock pressing in on me. Even the air going in and out of my body feels poisonous, like it’s clinging to the inside of my lungs, choking me from the inside out.
“Hey,” Shy says, shoving my foot.