by Kim Liggett
“It’s time,” Shy whispers.
I reach out for her, but she’s already stepped away from me.
Turning on my headlamp, I’m relieved to still find them with me. They turn on the remaining two flashlights in response.
As we move forward, into a narrow shaft, I have the strangest feeling—the dark pressing in all around me, it feels thicker than air. I don’t know if it’s the humidity or something more, but every step seems to be harder than the last. Maybe it’s dread.
A low growl reverberates through the cave. At first, I think it’s Darryl’s stomach, but when I feel the growl travel right under my feet, I know it’s something much deeper than that. Whatever it is, I know we all felt it, because we’re standing there staring at one another, afraid to name it, afraid to acknowledge that something very bad is about to happen.
When the grumble passes through again, it’s followed by a sharp cracking sound, like a million chestnuts popping in a fire. I follow the hairline fracture with my light, watching it worm its way down the tunnel, right under our feet, and I know exactly what’s coming.
Collapse. I try to get the word out, but my breath hitches in my throat.
Grabbing Shy’s hand, I pull her forward. We’re running through the tunnel, there’s screaming, breaking rock, and then a huge explosion as the passageway starts collapsing beneath us. Spotting a connecting tunnel on the left, I pull Shy inside. She yanks Maria with her, but as the dust settles we realize, Darryl’s nowhere to be found.
Shy’s hugging Maria, trying to console her, when Darryl coughs out, “Help.”
“Darryl,” Maria screams as she tries to get to him, but Shy holds her back.
I peer over the edge to find him dangling there, nothing but the cold, black deep beneath him.
“Brace me,” I call back to Shy as I get flat on the ground.
With Maria and Shy hanging on to my legs, I reach down for Darryl, but he’s only focused on the depths below.
“I’m here, Darryl. Grab on,” I tell him, but he doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at me. “There’s something wrong with him,” I call back.
“Heights,” Maria says. “He’s deathly afraid of heights.”
I remember him peeking over the ledge and then backing up against the tunnel when they first found me.
Grasping his forearms, I try to pull him up, but he’s fighting me. “Just let go and we’ll do the rest.”
“I can’t,” he whispers. “Get Maria to the surface, that’s all I ask.”
I feel my body slowly slipping forward, my muscles screaming for rest. I hate having to play this card, but I’m desperate. “You know Maria will never leave you. If you don’t grab onto me, you’re not only signing your death sentence but you’ll be signing hers, as well.”
He looks up at me in anguish. “No.”
“Our only chance of surviving this is if we stick together. All of us. We owe that to Kit.”
His bottom lip trembles.
An ill wind moves through the cave and I watch a visible chill wash over him.
“All you have to do is grab onto me. One hand at a time. But whatever you do … don’t look down.”
He nods rapidly, his eyes watering up. “Don’t look down … Don’t look down.” He repeats it like a mantra.
“Which arm do you want to do first?”
“Left.”
“My left or your left?”
“I don’t know,” he yells, his fingers turning purple from the strain. “You’re confusing me.”
“Nod toward the arm you want to let go of first.” He nods toward his left. “Got it.” I squeeze his wrist.
He’s about to let go, when a scattering of rocks comes from below.
“Did you hear that?” he says, staring down into the abyss.
“It’s nothing. Just the rock settling. That happens. We’re almost there.”
But he keeps looking down, whispering.
“What are you trying to say?” I lean over as far as possible so I can get more leverage. “I can’t hear you.”
Darryl’s breathing so hard I’m afraid he’s going to pass out, but maybe that would be the best option at this point. Then we could just pull him up without a fight.
“Grant, you need to come back,” Shy yells. “You’re slipping. I don’t know how much longer we can hold you.”
“Don’t you dare give up on him,” Maria screams. “Baby, you need to get up here right now. Do you hear me? I need you.”
That seems to get his attention for a moment, but then we hear another scattering of rocks. This time closer.
“You heard that, right?” His voice cracks.
Before I can even answer, we hear it again.
Even closer.
“There’s something down here,” Darryl whispers. “A monster. I know you feel it, too.”
“All we have to do is get you to solid ground,” I say as I try to coax him along. “And then we can talk about it all you want.”
As Darryl’s fingertips finally slip off the ledge, he grabs onto me, but he’s panicking like he’s in a free fall, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Something touched me … Something grabbed my foot. We’re all going to die down here.” And then he starts pulling himself up my body. If I don’t calm him down, he could yank us both right off the ledge.
“Darryl!” I try to look him straight in the eyes, to tell him everything’s going to be okay, when he grabs my headlamp, ripping it off my head.
He climbs up the rest of my body, not caring if he rips me off the ledge in the process, and I watch the light sail to the bottom of the chasm, sinking like a stone between two enormous boulders. My heart sinks with it.
As Shy and Maria pull me up to safety, there’s no joyous cheer, no collective sigh of relief.
This is a harsh reality check.
Slumped against the side of the tunnel, I pull off my pack and start going through the supplies. I’ve always been able to find a certain amount of comfort in taking inventory, organizing things, but it doesn’t work this time. “We’re down to one flashlight, a box of matches, and a single candle.”
I try not to let it show, but I can tell by the way Shy is looking at me that she gets it. If we don’t find our way to the surface soon, we’ll run out of light. And without light, our lives will slowly be extinguished.
As if Darryl realizes the gravity of what he’s done, he curls up in a ball and begins to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, dude. I don’t know what happened to me.”
“You panicked, that’s all,” Maria says as she rubs his back. She looks up at me and I know what she wants from me.
“We’re all good,” I tell him, pulling out the last bag of food as a peace offering.
He sits up, wiping the tears from his red, swollen eyes, and takes the packet.
We sit in silence, staring into the dark tunnel before us, each taking turns with the macaroni and cheese. I should be starving, but I can hardly get it down.
My body feels like one of those cold, slippery noodles. All I want to do is lie down and rest, but I’m afraid I’ll never get back up again.
“We need to keep moving.” I struggle to pull myself up, swaying a little as I put the pack on my shoulders. Shy steadies me.
“But we need to talk about what happened,” Darryl says as he follows after me.
“You panicked. We lost a light. It happens. The important thing is that you’re okay.”
“No. Not that. The thing … the thing that grabbed me.”
“I told you.” I keep my head down, focusing on the ground in front of me. “This is what the dark does to people. You need to shake it off.”
“Shake it off?” He grabs my shoulder, stopping me. “I know what I felt … and you heard it. I know you did. The whisper.”
I look up at him sharply, my stomach tightening into a hard knot. “What difference would it make? Would it change anything? We’re still trapped down here with basically nothing to defend ourselves with. All w
e can do is keep going.”
“Listen to him,” Maria says soothingly. “I didn’t see anything. Shy didn’t see anything. And we were there the entire time. We need to stick together, now more than ever.” She brushes her hand over his back and I see an ease pass over him.
“Maybe you’re right.” He nods his head a little too rapidly, like he’s trying to convince himself, more than anything. “Yeah. It could be all in my head. Like special ops training,” he reasons. “When they try to break you down with sensory deprivation but you know it’s not real.”
“Exactly.” Maria exhales. “You’re stronger than that.”
“Yeah … yeah … that makes sense,” he mutters to himself.
As Maria and Darryl lag behind, it gives me a chance to check on Shy. I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it, but when she reaches out to hold my hand, I know that she’s okay. That we’re okay. Even down here, there’s still something good to be found.
As the path opens up into a wide Y formation, we fan out.
There’s a tunnel to the left and a tunnel to the right.
“It’s the Keyhole Passage,” I say, looking around in wonder. “I remember this from the guidebook. It’s part of the old system. The south exit isn’t far from here.”
“Are you serious?” Shy asks breathlessly. “Which way?”
I hold my head in my hands, like I can squeeze the memory to the surface, but I’d only be guessing. “I … I can’t remember, but one of the sides is a dead end.”
“Wait … I know how to do this.” Darryl steps forward. “I know how to find the right way.”
“How?” Shy asks.
“From Doom,” Darryl says, his confidence returning.
Maria’s eyes go wide. “That stupid video game?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s super realistic. I just need the matches.”
I’m hesitant to hand them over, but I can tell he’s just trying to make amends, trying to be helpful. And I know what a second chance can mean to a person.
Digging out the box from my pack, I hand them over.
“Watch the flame,” he says as he goes about twenty feet into the first tunnel and turns around to face us. Striking a match, he holds it up, and we watch the flame flicker gently toward his face. “See? There’s air moving through here. Now, let’s check to see if it’s stronger on this side,” he says as he goes into the other tunnel. He turns to face us and strikes the match, which promptly burns out.
“Sorry. That must’ve been a dud.”
As Maria’s rubbing her arms, trying to get warm, Darryl strikes another one. Same thing happens.
“That’s weird,” he says.
“Is the air blowing it out?” she asks.
“No. That’s the thing. It feels dead still in here, but it’s like something’s blowing it out … maybe from above.”
As he strikes another match, he looks up.
The color leaches from his face.
A wet spot blooms at his crotch.
“Grant—” he manages to call out before the match goes out.
Before I can even think of responding, Darryl’s body is jerked straight into the air, slammed against the cave ceiling, and then dropped back to the ground with a dense thud.
22
AS we rush in, Maria skids to the ground and gathers Darryl in her arms. I try to chase after the hulking shadow, but I quickly lose track. Whatever it is, it’s using the darkness as a shield. I take another step forward and I swear I can feel the dark penetrating my skin, seeping into every hollow space inside of me, wanting to consume me.
The matchbox is on the ground. When I bend over to pick it up, I hear the whisper, luring me forward.
“Grant.” Shy’s voice pulls me back. “I need you.”
Running back, I find Darryl lying limp in Maria’s arms like a rag doll. Half of his head is caved in, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
Shy and I stand there, watching in horror, as she tries to revive him. As the air inflates his chest, I see his fingertips flicker, but I know it’s only a random impulse. I’ve seen it before. He’s gone. Death on impact. The light has left his eyes, but Maria refuses to accept it.
“Time to wake up now,” she says as she smooths her hand over his bashed-in face.
Shy squeezes Maria’s shoulder. “He’s gone,” she says softly.
“No he’s not.” Maria jerks away from her touch. “He’s just tired, that’s all. He’s always been a heavy sleeper.”
“Maria, look at me.” Shy tightens her grip and shakes her. “He’s dead.”
Maria holds her breath. I hold mine, too. It’s like we’re all just waiting for someone to wake us up from this nightmare, but it never happens.
Shy’s words seem to slowly sink in, because Maria bursts into tears and then screams into the tunnel, “What kind of monster would do this?”
The sound that answers back would be horrifying to most people, but to us it’s like a dream: the screeching echo of hundreds of wings flapping in the tunnel next to us.
“We have to go,” Shy says as she pulls at her. “We have to follow them.”
Maria blinks, but I can tell she’s not entirely grasping what’s happening.
“Help me,” Shy says to me.
We lift Maria to her feet, forcing her to let go of Darryl’s hand. It’s one of the most painful things I’ve ever had to do.
As we’re dragging her down the other tunnel, I can see it in her eyes: on some level, Maria still blames me for this. I would’ve gladly taken Darryl’s place—Kit’s as well—but that’s not what happened. The only thing I can do is make sure she gets out of here alive.
We follow the sound of the bats as long as we can, but Maria is starting to fall more than she can get back up. We’re beyond exhausted. Beyond feeling human.
When we reach a deep recess in the cave wall, I motion for them to step inside. Shy pulls Maria into the crevice as far as they can go, and I duck in after them. The walls of the recess are completely smooth, like it’s been carved out with an ice-cream scoop. It’s a good hiding spot, where nothing will be able to sneak up on us from behind, above, or below, but if that thing finds us, corners us in here, we’ll be trapped. I sit in front of the entrance. Whatever’s down here will have to go through me first.
“Why?” Maria asks, fighting back tears. “Darryl was kind … he never hurt anyone. He was a gentle giant … you know that.”
“I do,” Shy says as she cradles Maria against her.
“All he wanted to do was graduate. Serve his country. Get married. Have kids. The white picket fence.”
I try to keep the image out of my head, but I can picture it, clear as day. It hurts to think of everything Darryl lost. What the world lost without him in it.
“And this is how it ends? Cold and wet and dark, with his head bashed in?” Maria shivers at the memory. “I’m all alone now.”
“You’re not alone,” Shy says. “We have each other.”
“For how much longer? Whatever that thing is … it’s picking us off, one by one.”
“We don’t know that.”
“You saw what it did to Darryl. It just picked him up off the ground, smashed him against the rock, and threw him back down again … like it was nothing. Could a man even do that?” She lets out a shuddering breath. “What if Darryl’s right? What if it’s some kind of animal … or something else?”
“Shh…” Shy says as she strokes her hair.
“It reminds me of that special we watched in Earth Science last year. Remember? The one on the orca whales? I always thought they were so cute, but then I saw them tossing those seals around, back and forth. They were playing with their food before they ate it. They were having fun. What if something’s down here … playing with us?”
“You need sleep,” Shy says as she gets Maria to lie down in her lap. “When we’re done with this place, we’re going to figure everything out. You can cry and wail and fall apart, but right now, we have one job.”<
br />
“Survive,” I say.
Maria looks over at me, her eyes full of pain and blame and regret. I can’t stand to have her look at me that way.
“I feel like I’m going crazy,” she whispers. “Do you think maybe we’re all going crazy?”
As soon as she closes her eyes, I finally feel like I can breathe again. I can’t imagine what that would be like, watching the person you love die.
“Is Maria going to be okay?” I ask.
“She’s been through a lot.” Shy leans her head back against the rock wall. “Her older brother died when she was eight … right in her arms.”
“Was he sick?”
“Drive-by.”
“Oh.” I glance at Maria. “Was he into drugs?”
“Is that how you think of us?” she snaps.
“No,” I say, recoiling from her words a bit. “I’m sorry if that came out wrong. I just … I don’t know … I don’t know anything anymore.”
She takes a deep breath and her face softens. “That wasn’t fair. Sometimes I forget that I don’t have to fight so hard all the time. They’re just poor. Wrong neighborhood. Wrong time. Took the ambulance an hour to show up. That’s when she got into the EMT thing. She wanted to help people. Give back to the community.”
“I can see that.” I clench my jaw.
“What? What is it?”
“I was just thinking about my friends. The people I grew up with. Sure, they’ll donate to get their name on some plaque, buy a wristband to support whatever cause of the day, but I’ve never heard a single one of them talk passionately about how they want to help people—and then actually do something about it. Except my sister, Mare. She doesn’t talk about helping people. She just does it.”
“Your sister sounds nice,” she says with a weary smile. “Maybe you can do the same. It’s not too late for you, you know.”
I want to tell Shy how I feel, how I can’t stop thinking about her. Even down here, with death and madness all around us, all I want to do is be close to her, but I can feel my cheeks getting red just thinking about it.
“What about your family?” I ask, pretending to reorganize the supplies.