Beneath

by Maureen A. Miller

  “Do we knock or call out?” Stella whispered.

  “I’m afraid if we knock the whole place will fall over,” Colin murmured.

  “Mr. Fournier,” he called. “Could we see you for a moment?”

  There was no response. Stella was about to turn around, but Colin captured her arm and mouthed the word, wait.

  Motion was detected inside the hut. A shadow crossed past those illuminated cracks. The flap was thrown back and Etienne’s curly hair poked out.

  “Hello,” he stated. The welcoming smile took a moment to accompany the salutation. “Come on in. The place is a bit of a mess, but that’s because Sarah has been busy.”

  Stella felt Colin’s hand on her arm stiffen, and then he released her. Of course Sarah was busy. She was busy trying to save Anne Wexler’s life.

  Classifying the interior as a mess was a stretch considering everything was basically junk. It was organized junk, however. There were two twin mattresses elevated by mounds of dirt. Atop them were some blankets that bore a hint of the same floral scent as her dress. A small wooden crate labeled COFFEE sat before a much larger shipping container which had a candle burning inside a porcelain bowl.

  “Candles are a luxury down here.” Etienne looked sheepish as if he had been caught with contraband. “But, I had some work to do. I needed the light.”

  “What are you working on?” Stella asked immediately.

  Steely eyes locked onto her. They were so piercing she felt like he was sucking out her soul. He blinked and the effect was gone.

  “Inventory.” He shook his head and scratched his hair. “Always tracking inventory.”

  “Is there a warehouse or something?”

  Colin snorted at her innocent question. Well, maybe it wasn’t so naive. Everything down here seemed peculiar.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes there is.” Etienne nodded. “We stockpile all items we find in a nearby cave. One you passed on your way in. From there they are divvied up and moved to their designated zones as needed. All food is shared so there is no fear of someone stealing, but we do have to ration when supplies get low. Of course, then we just fish.”

  “Can I go with you the next time you fish?” Colin asked.

  “Certainly,” Etienne beamed.

  The gesture improved his gaunt face, but to Stella, everything about the man just seemed gray. His hair, his skin. Even his attire.

  “Now, what was it you needed to talk about?”

  Suddenly, she didn’t want to tell her tale. Colin sensed her reluctance and tapped her elbow for encouragement.

  “Stell, it’s best to just ask.”

  Fidgeting with the dress material, she didn’t know where to begin. Was this man going to yell at her for going beyond the waterfall? Probably.

  “That’s a lovely dress,” Etienne remarked in an attempt to put her at ease. “Have you started laundry duty?”

  “Tomorrow,” she mumbled, her eyes combing the inside of the hut.

  A pile of clothes sat in one corner. A stack of stained book binders were piled up next to the makeshift desk. Atop the desk was an open notebook and what looked like a No. 2 pencil.

  “Stella had a run-in with something,” Colin stated, sparing her the awkward segue.

  Gray man’s face tightened. Sinewy lines connected his cheeks to his jaw.

  “What type of run-in?” he asked warily.

  Ready to say, just forget about it, her sandaled foot tipped backwards. She felt Colin’s eyes on her and looked up. The warm gaze was such a contradiction to Etienne’s bleak stare.

  Col nodded. It’s okay.

  That support encouraged her.

  “I took a walk,” she began. “I ended up behind the waterfall. I was looking for–” heat pricked the back of her head, “–a place to go to the bathroom. No one showed us where the designated spots were.”

  Etienne’s thin lips pursed. “You could have asked. It’s dangerous exploring around here without someone to guide you. Certain caves and channels are very close to the underwater vents and can reach hazardous temperatures. We know how to navigate these spots and use them to our advantage. That has come after many years of experience.”

  Aggravated by the censure, Stella was ready to leave her run-in as just that–an encounter with the hazardous heat beyond the waterfall.

  “Are there any other dangers down here, besides the heat?”

  Stella executed a mental backflip. Colin had deflected the target back on Etienne’s forehead.

  Gray man snorted. “Look at this place. This is a geological aberration. We discussed the threats. Every day we fear an earthquake like the one that most likely created this cavern. Every day we fear the hydrothermal vents that sustain us will somehow cease to function. Every day we light the torches and pray that the flame doesn’t go out.”

  “Why would it go out?” Stella probed.

  “If the flame goes out there is too much carbon dioxide in the air, and we will all die.” He paused for effect. “So, yes, there are dangers down here.”

  Stella’s gaze swung to gauge Colin’s reaction. He was poised, indifferent to Etienne’s menacing tone.

  “What about creatures?” he asked evenly.

  A slight flare in Etienne’s eyes was the only sign of angst, but his composure returned.

  “Creatures?” he repeated.

  “Stella was attacked by something behind the waterfall. She said it wasn’t human.”

  Explosions went off in her heart that this man would champion her defense without ever having witnessed the creature himself. She could have made the whole thing up, but Colin believed her. His trust spurred her into action.

  “I know this is the second time I’ve seen something. I couldn’t really see skin, but the creature was dark, to blend with the shadows. What gave it away were the eyes. Large, green, glowing–”

  With each word, Etienne’s bushy gray eyebrow hiked higher.

  “I will need Sarah to check on you. The atmospheric change could have been too drastic.”

  “The atmospheric change didn’t charge at me and toss me into the water,” she retaliated. “The atmospheric change didn’t do this!”

  Stella tugged the collar of her dress over her shoulder, exposing a contusion that was blossoming in blue and purple shades.

  Shock registered on Colin’s face while Etienne remained indifferent.

  “You took a tumble in the stream,” he said. “There are no torches back in that portion of the cave. You got spooked by the darkness. We all do. You fell in the water, and portions of the bed are rocky. You should have Sarah check on that.”

  Stella glanced down at the bruise remembering the feel of impact. “A rock did not cause this. Something hit me.”

  It was the pity on Etienne’s face that set her off.

  “What are you hiding?” she demanded. “What happened to the we’re all in this together spirit?

  “We are all in this together. I take your welfare very seriously. We don’t want to lose anyone down here. My wife is working tirelessly to try and save your loved one.”

  Ouch. A strong counter punch. She could see the reference bring pain to Colin’s eyes. That glimpse of vulnerability took the fight out of her.

  “You’re right,” she yielded. “I was probably just freaked out.”

  Hastily drawing her dress back over her shoulder she forced a smile. It felt strained on her lips. “But the good news is that Margie showed me where all the bathrooms are, and explained how the recycling works. For the record, I’d like to put in for anything other than that duty.”

  A grin was slow to form on Etienne’s face. It looked as forced as her own, but he managed to inflect some good nature into his soft accent. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

  “What duty?” Colin looked back and forth between them.

  “Come on.” She grabbed Colin’s arm. “We’re sorry to have bothered you,” she said to Etienne.

  “Nonsense. You are welcome any time.
And please,” he nodded at her shoulder, “have Sarah check that.”

  “Oh, it’s fine. Thanks. We’ll see you at dinner.”

  Before any further conversation could take place, Stella bowed out of the hut, her hand still clutched around Colin’s forearm. He followed and stopped once they were alone outside. His glance fell to her hand which she quickly dropped.

  “What just happened in there?” he asked quietly.

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “Well, we agree on that. Come on, let’s get further away.”

  As they left the hut behind them, Stella looked back over her shoulder. Etienne was hiking up the trail towards the crow’s nest.

  “Look at that,” she whispered, “ he’s running right up there to tell Frederic about me.”

  Colin frowned. “Whatever. We tried to play the game and go to him for advice. It got us nothing. Tomorrow I’m going behind that waterfall.”

  Stella stopped walking. “Col, not alone. I don’t want you to go back there alone.”

  He looked down at her with a faint grin. Half his face glowed from a nearby torch.

  “Why? Are you worried about me?” he teased.

  Being this close. Hearing that soft goading, and seeing that tempting smile–they would have all been valid reasons to reach up and link her arms around his neck. But the strongest impulse stemmed from something else.

  “You believed me,” she whispered. “I could have been scared, disoriented in the dark. I could have imagined it all.”

  Pensive, he studied her face, and then hesitantly reached for the loose collar of her dress.

  “May I?” he asked in a husky tone.

  Stella nodded mutely, following his eyes while his fingers gently hauled the fabric off her shoulder. The touch brought another bout of goosebumps.

  “If it’s all in your imagination,” he said, “then why does this bruise look like a hand imprint?”

  The bell tolled.

  A single haunting peal to mark the end of the day.

  Everyone was already settled in their lodgings. Dinner had been a quiet affair, with only Margie and Jordan talking about a few of their more adventurous vacations. Swimming with the dolphins in Hawaii, and a safari trip to Kenya. From the glazed-over look in Loren’s eyes, she guessed the young woman had heard about the safari a million times.

  “It’s good to see you back in your shorts,” Jill remarked from her darkened corner. “The dress was kinda freaking me out.”

  “Well, how did you wash your clothes?”

  “How do you think?” Jill’s white teeth flashed from the dark.

  “You just stood there naked until they dried?” Stella guessed, horrified. “And was your friend there, waiting too?”

  “Whatevs. I washed them after I talked to him.” She plucked the cotton from her skin. “They’re still wet.”

  “Bet you’d like to borrow my freakish dress right now.”

  “I’m too tired to care. When I wake up they’ll be dry.”

  Jill claimed the hammock for the night and now rocked gently in it.

  “So, what was your day like?” she asked.

  Stella’s eyebrows rose, but Jill wouldn’t be able to see them in the dark.

  “Uneventful. I took a walk. Washed clothes. Took a bath. Pretty rudimentary, not like you. You had all the excitement today. Tell me about him,” she prodded. “This Daniel.”

  Jill sighed. “It’s no big deal, Stel. He was just someone to talk to in this godforsaken dungeon.”

  “You guys talked a long time. What’s his story? How’d he get down here?”

  Although she knew the answer already, Stella wondered if he had elaborated with Jill.

  “The dude fell off a freaking cruise ship.” Jill propped herself up on an elbow. “He said that he fell off the bow and that when he hit, the force of the hull actually pushed him away from the ship. He broke his arm in the fall and was having a tough time treading water, but he stayed up long enough to watch the ship glide away. It was the cold that finally got him, and he couldn’t move his legs anymore. He just gave up and went under.”

  “And got tugged into the same current that brought us down?” Stella finished.

  “Yep, what he described was exactly the same–only he didn’t pass out like I did. Or so he claims.” She winked.

  “So why doesn’t this current suck the whole damn cruise ship down here?”

  “I asked the same thing. He said Frederic thinks it’s a very narrow channel. The odds of getting caught in it–”

  “Yeah, yeah, judging by the residents down here, maybe once a decade or less.”

  “We have crap luck,” Jill moped. She was quiet for a moment and then her voice changed. “Stel, do you think Mom is going to make it?”

  The pleading tone tugged at Stella’s heart. “I truly hope so.”

  There was no response from the shadows. Stella presumed Jill had lain back down. Then she heard her pained whisper. “Maybe she’s the lucky one.”

  It was futile to offer false assurances. Maybe Jill was right. Stella sensed a sinister outcome for them all, and perhaps Mrs. Wexler was going to be spared that grim fate.

  After a few moments Stella heard Jill’s breathing fade into the even rhythm of slumber. Unable to sleep herself, Stella sat cross-legged on the floor, close enough to the window to bask in the light of a nearby torch.

  There was no activity outside, but the positioning of this little sunroom restricted her view to only the path, the café, and the darkness beyond it.

  She had changed back into her shorts and tank top only because she knew it was too dark for Jill to get a good look at her bruise. In the limited light she now studied it and could make out the individual marks, like purple bands around her upper arm. The mark of fingers, or digits of some variety.

  Stella closed her eyes and reviewed it all. She felt the grip. She felt the shove. It was a raw and powerful force. She smelled the wicked stench of death…and she saw those eyes. Those sinister luminous eyes.

  Straining to search the far end of the path out her window, Stella knew she’d never be able to sleep. She turned towards her notepad and began writing with a pen that poured out sporadic ink.

  Time started to fade into a routine of bells chiming and assorted duties. Clean the clothes. Stock food in the café. Search the shores of the cave pools for usable flotsam.

  Stella learned the whereabouts of the supply cave. It was a narrow nook off the route to the pool that she washed up in. The nook opened into a decent-sized chamber stocked with canned goods, clothes, oils, personal items, small furnishings, liquor, books, coiled ropes, and luggage.

  “How do you control these things?” She turned to Margie who was orienting her on the tasks. “Can anyone just come in this cave and take what they want?”

  “Everything is doled out as a community,” Margie explained, grabbing a stack of canned beans. Some of the labels looked vintage. “If everyone is well-supplied as a whole, there is no need to take anything.”

  She glanced around. “But if you do see something in particular that you would like it is best practice to ask Etienne or Frederic.”

  Stella concealed her frown. She didn’t want to go to gray man for any reason. She found him to be condescending and deceitful, and just downright creepy.

  “I just thought it’d be nice to browse through some of these books.

  “There is a library by the café. These books will be sorted and make their way out there soon.”

  Stella grabbed a plastic bottle of vegetable oil. Today she had torch duty, and she was given a list of potential oils and combustible liquids that she could use. Margie had ingrained the importance of torch duty, but there was no need to explain. Without light down here, madness would quickly ensue.

  “I’ve read all the books out there,” she remarked sullenly.

  Margie crossed her short arms. “Already? How long have you been down here, a week?”

  Stella shrugged. “I don’t
sleep much down here.”

  “Tsk. Tsk. We sleep a lot here. Sleeping requires less oxygen.”

  Stella had the feeling she was being lectured, as if her restlessness was somehow tainting their air supply.

  “I suppose I’ll settle in soon.” She forced a smile. “It has just been such an adjustment.”

  Margie’s cheeks plumped up and she sighed her relief. “You’re absolutely right. I guess I can’t even remember how I reacted when I first got here. I’m sure I was the same as you.”

  The woman was quiet for a moment and then added, “It’s good to see your bruise is clearing up. That was a nasty tumble you took in the stream. You’ve kept away from there now, right?”

  “Right,” Stella replied automatically.

  That was it. She was an automaton for the time being. Doing their chores. Listening to their rules. Obeying their invisible fences. She used this obedience to grow less and less noticeable. Invisibility would allow her to pass boundaries.

  “All right,” Margie clapped her hands. “I think we have everything we need. Let’s get to work.”

  Before she slipped from the cave, the woman with the hacked blonde bob sighed. “I just wish your friend was as helpful as you.”

  Jill hadn’t been so accommodating with chore duty. She used visiting her mother as an excuse to get out of several obligations. It would all even out in the end. Stella wasn’t worried about the work. It kept her mind engaged. It also allowed her to study the environment. Torch duty would take her from just outside the lagoon they surfaced in all the way to the waterfall.

  “I think I have everything I need,” she assured Margie.

  “Remember what I taught you? Do you need me to go with you one more time?”

  It had been odd to be schooled by this exuberant woman who was more familiar with lighting a candelabra atop a piano than setting a torch ablaze.

  “No, I got it. I have torn pieces of cloth, and oil. I’ll use the existing flames to ignite the new torches.”

  Margie nodded her approval.

  Stella stepped out of the supply cave and commenced her task. The torches lasted a long time. Sometimes she only had to evaluate and not replace. It sped up the process. Today she finished rather quickly and began her hike up the pinnacle to monitor the string of flares up the spiraling path.