Beneath

by Maureen A. Miller

  “Here.” He stopped and pointed to a black crevice, a thick gash in the cave wall.

  “There are many chambers down here. Some are tiny nooks. Some are pretty decent-sized caves. It’s really like a maze, but this little prize is a bit eerie.”

  “Eerie?” She shied away from the opening.

  A rare grin clashed with Daniel’s dark looks.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

  That she would need protecting is what worried her, but she had arrested this reclusive man’s attention. She wasn’t about to dissuade him.

  Jill followed, at one point having to turn sideways to shimmy through the tight channel.

  “How did you find this place?”

  “Boredom,” he replied. “There are some places down here you shouldn’t go exploring when you’re bored, but this end of the cave system is pretty safe.”

  “What’s unsafe about the other end?” she asked. A rogue image of Stella’s arm with the lined bruises across it flashed in her mind. “Cave ins?”

  Daniel shrugged as he emerged into a tight cave. Jill stepped out of the chasm, grateful for the room to breathe, but this wasn’t much larger. The chamber was maybe ten feet wide and Daniel had to tuck his head to avoid the low ceiling.

  “Here, you’re better off sitting down to enjoy the view.”

  He crouched down, resting his back against the slate rock. The torch filled the snug chamber with an orange glow. It fought off the humidity too.

  Jill concentrated on finding a spot to sit that wasn’t too close to Daniel, but there were limited options. She finally collapsed into a cross-legged position and just stared at him. In this warm atmosphere he didn’t look so dark. What she thought was near black hair actually was mostly brown with even a few strands of red woven in. Eyes that she thought were black were really a deep hazel. As the flames reduced his pupils she noticed a ring of jade around them. His jawline was sharp, but that rare smile she caught before reminded her that his expression wasn’t so severe. He looked mysterious.

  “So–” A dark eyebrow raised. “What do you think?”

  I think I like what I see.

  “About what?” she stuttered.

  Daniel cocked his head and looked up. She followed his gaze and her mouth dropped open.

  One wall was scarred with handmade drawings. Images carved into the rock that took a moment for her to decipher.

  “That’s a boat.” She pointed. “And that’s a–a cow?”

  “I’m guessing it’s someone’s dog,” he chuckled. “It’s probably hard to draw your dog with a rock.”

  Jill climbed up onto her knees to inspect the wall better.

  “There’s a flower–flowers,” she corrected enthusiastically.

  She looked at him watching her. “Did you draw this?”

  Daniel snorted. “Do I look like someone who draws flowers?”

  Jill laughed. A full, real laugh, and it felt so good.

  “No, I guess not. So then, who? Margie? Sarah?”

  He shook his head. “When I first found this place I asked who drew the images. Frederic said that these were here before he and Etienne arrived.”

  “But I thought Etienne and Frederic were the first–”

  Her comment died at the seriously? look on his face.

  “Well, yeah, I guess this all has been down here a long time. But then who drew this and where are they? Where are the people that were here before Etienne?”

  “Etienne claims that they searched and found no signs of previous inhabitants.”

  “Hello.” She pointed at the wall. “I’d say this was a sign.”

  Daniel smiled. It was short-lived. “I guess what he was saying is that they have not located any remains of previous residents.”

  Jill hugged her arms about herself. “Oh.”

  She stood fully now, running her fingers along each image. Some so innocent. There was a circle with two holes and a concave line inside. A frowny face. Her palm spanned out locating a few more images lost in the shadows.

  “What is this?”

  Daniel rose and brought the torch closer.

  A stick figure was hunched, its exaggerated hands reaching forward. Two large circles on the head represented eyes.

  “A self portrait of the guy doing the drawing?”

  Jill rolled her eyes. “Come on.”

  “I don’t know. Somebody was bored out of his skull and doodling.” He stepped back and pointed at an image close to the ground.

  She stooped and frowned until she guessed what it was. “A skull and crossbones?”

  “Very good.” He nodded his approval. “I added that a few years ago. I figured I should contribute to our predecessor’s artwork. I thought maybe he was a pirate.”

  Jill clapped her hands at the thought. “Yes! If Etienne and Sarah came down here in the 70’s, and if you have cans of corn from the 40’s, God knows who could have been down here.”

  Daniel looked pleased with her enthusiasm.

  “What happened to you guys?” he asked, sobering slightly. “Your boat sank in a storm?”

  “Ummm.” She nodded. “It all happened so fast. When we went to sleep everything was normal. Then all of a sudden I was rolling around the cabin. When my mom opened the hatch I thought we were in a tornado. I didn’t even have time to grasp what was happening. Next thing I knew I was in the water, and the next thing after that, Stella was pulling me out of your pool.”

  Daniel pondered that quietly. “Must have been pretty scary.”

  “Hell, not as scary as falling off a cruise ship,” she commented. She caught his look and blushed. “Margie told Stella. Stella told me. Anyway, you’re damn lucky to have even survived the fall. How high up were you?”

  “Lucky?” he remarked, focusing on the ground.

  “Right. Poor choice of words.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she pretended to focus on the illustrations. Stella would have a better command of the English language. She was the one with all the words.

  Lost in her introspection, Jill jumped when Daniel cleared his throat.

  “I think it was about 150 feet,” he murmured. “I don’t remember hitting the water. I must have been knocked out by the impact.”

  Jill made a sympathetic sound. “How did it happen? Were you sitting on the rail? Were you taking a selfie?”

  “Selfie?”

  “Oh, right. You don’t know what that is. It’s so weird to think this happened to you, what, twenty years ago?” She studied his face, mature, but with the glow of youth still clinging to it. “How is it that you look so young? How old were you at the time?”

  Daniel shrugged. “Thirteen.”

  “Wow. Seriously?”

  Sometimes she didn’t think. Sometimes she just plowed on. “Can you read? You didn’t get through much school then?”

  He rose and glared down at her.

  “Yeah, I can read.”

  “I’m sorry,” she rushed to her feet. “I–I’m just trying to understand. You look–”

  His eyes narrowed. “I look what?” There was an edge to his tone.

  Jill stared for a second, and finally admitted, “You look smart.”

  Daniel hitched his shoulders back as if he’d been slapped. He averted his gaze, staring hard at the skull and crossbones. Jill fisted her hands at her sides and cursed her loose mouth. She quickly rehearsed several plausible phrases to back out of the awkward moment when she heard a strange sound coming from Daniel. At first she thought he was going to be sick, but then she caught a glimpse of half a smile on the side of his face.

  He was laughing.

  “I’ve been called many things,” he muttered, “but smart was not one of them. Especially from a girl like you.”

  “Like me?” She frowned.

  He turned to look at her and saw her piqued expression.

  “I mean–” Suddenly Mr. Cool looked off balance. “You’re pretty. You are friendly. You look like a cheerleader. S
omeone like you wouldn’t have given me the time of day up there.” He pointed to the cave ceiling.

  “I’m not a cheerleader,” she said, sullen. Mechanically she drew a smile to her lips. “But I am friendly.”

  Daniel flashed a quick grin and then hid it behind a swipe of his hand. “Yeah, well, I don’t talk too much down here, so thanks for spending some time with me.”

  Jill frowned. “You don’t have to thank me. That’s crazy to thank someone for spending time with you. You should talk more.”

  “Because I’m so smart?” he quipped. “You thought I couldn’t read.”

  “Come on,” she whined. “I’m just saying you didn’t get to finish your education. That’s a shame.”

  She thought he’d grow angry, but he just stared at the drawings.

  “I was pretty smart when I was in school.” He rolled his eyes towards her. “I had nothing else to do but study. When I got down here–after a long period of being a recluse I started to read the books Margie and Sarah gave me. If I didn’t know something I would ask them about it. Eventually I read everything down here. Heck, I probably am a greater scholar than anyone on the surface at this point.”

  Jill smiled at that. “So, you’re saying you’re not a recluse anymore?”

  He smirked at her good-natured taunt.

  “I look at you,” she continued, “and I just can’t get over it. You only look maybe a few years older than me. Seriously, how is that possible?”

  “Look around you,” Daniel splayed his arms. “There’s no sun to age the skin. I saw my father drink too much from the stress of his job. People down here don’t have jobs. They don’t have stress.”

  “No stress?” she countered on a near squeak. “I am extremely stressed. I don’t know how long my mother will live. I don’t know how long I will live. I’m afraid of the dark. I have stress.”

  Daniel’s face softened. He took a step towards her in the tight chamber. Jill held her ground, but her trembling betrayed her.

  “Don’t be afraid of the dark,” he soothed. “I’ll be here. I will always hold a torch for you.”

  Jill’s throat caught at the declaration. Her lower lip trembled slightly and she felt tears building up behind her eyes.

  To spare her from the awkward moment, Daniel cleared his throat and added, “What I’m saying is that without the physical stress of our atmosphere, and the mental stress of life’s interactions, there is little down here to age us. Everything seems to move so slowly, including our maturity.” He shrugged. “Or, at least that is what Etienne tells everyone.”

  Jill hugged herself again and stared at the torch in his firm grip.

  “Are you cold?” he asked thickly.

  “No.”

  He regarded her for a lengthy minute and finally asked, “How old are you?”

  “I–I’m eighteen. My birthday was three weeks ago.”

  Lame. Why did she add that?

  Daniel smiled. She was growing to like his smile.

  “Happy Birthday, then.”

  Her lips fumbled upwards.

  “I better get back.” She glanced over her shoulder, wanting no part of heading back into the black tunnel.

  This small cave, filled with the brightness and warmth of the torch, and all the interesting images carved from hands long gone was the only bit of comfort she had experienced since the shipwreck. Maybe it had nothing to do with the glow, or heat, or pictures. Maybe it had to do with a seemingly young man with dark hazel eyes that offered to forever light her way.

  “Sure,” he said, raising his arm towards the exit to guide her.

  She grudgingly turned in that direction and felt his hand settle on her arm for guidance. She completely tuned everything out and focused on that touch. It warmed her skin and bolstered her confidence.

  In silence they made their way back to the village, but Daniel’s light touch was always there to keep her steady. She needed it the moment she saw Stella walking towards them. Stella stopped and Jill recognized the stance. Long legs spread slightly, hands at her sides, shoulders back, and soulful eyes that could not hide their message.

  “No,” Jill whimpered, feeling the support on her arm as her legs started to fail her.

  CHAPTER 13

  Stella stroked Jill’s golden hair, soothing her as she mumbled in her sleep. Across from them Colin stared down at his sister, his face solemn, his shoulders struggling to sustain an unimaginable burden. In the corner, Don sat with his knees tucked up under his chin, his arms wrapped around his legs. He rocked slightly.

  “They say they’re going to hold a service.”

  Don’s voice sounded dispassionate. He spoke mechanically.

  “Dad,” Colin tried to soothe.

  “But, your mother won’t be present. They tell me it will be too difficult on me. They let me say my goodbyes in person, though, before they took her away.”

  Jill sobbed, and Stella tried to quell her shaking.

  “Took her where?” Colin frowned.

  “They’re going to let her go. Back into the sea that should have claimed her to begin with. The ground here cannot be dug for an adequate burial.”

  Jill clamped her hands over her ears and Stella guided her so that she reclined against her chest, where she could hug her. Stella felt each quiver and imagined how devastated she would be at the loss of her mother. Knowing that her mother was alive and safe in the world above gave her some peace.

  Colin’s expression was stark as he studied his father. Stella agreed with his concerns. Grief was an all-consuming beast, but this air of submission was unexpected. Even now Donald Wexler seemed disconnected. After all, shouldn’t he be holding his daughter? Consoling her?

  Stella shook her head to toss her doubts aside. There was no defined etiquette down here. There was just survival. Physical …and mental.

  “We’ll be there,” she vowed quietly.

  It was a somber event, made bizarre by the attire of the inhabitants in this macabre mythological world. Sarah in her grey nurse’s uniform, Margie in her tan Capri pants and a tight royal blue blouse. Loren in her snug jeans and a black tank top. She was the only one wearing black to the funeral.

  Stella’s thoughts were muddled. She needed to get out of here. Across the way, Jill was being comforted by Daniel, the dour-looking guy from the cruise ship. He made Stella nervous, but Jill had assured that he was just shy. Donald stood between Etienne and Frederic as if the two men were there to catch him should he fall in grief…or run.

  She cast a desperate glance towards Colin, who managed to look stoic in his shorts and t-shirt. He met her eyes and tipped his head. Tonight. When this was all over they would resume their search. The urgency for answers had increased. So much so that when the somber event broke up, Stella followed Etienne, cornering the sailor after he parted with his wife in front of the infirmary.

  “Sarah stays in the infirmary?” she asked boldly. “Even when there are no patients?”

  Etienne stopped and regarded her with a tolerant smile.

  “She works on inventory. She is sorting through the latest haul to see what can be useful for our continued health.”

  A very practical response, but Stella hated the sanctimonious delivery.

  “An icepack would be handy. I could have used that for my bruised arm.”

  Stella knew she was challenging the man. She didn’t care. She was hurting and there was nothing in Sarah’s haul that could fix this kind of pain.

  “Alas,” Etienne shook his head. “Ice is one thing we can’t preserve down here. And your injury–” he nodded at her now healthy arm, “could have been prevented if you didn’t stray past the waterfall. The terrain is not stable there. Stay away from it and perhaps Sarah will not have to work so hard.”

  Was he counseling her, or was it a threat?

  “Then tell me what’s back there,” she challenged.

  She was curious to hear his interpretation. She had a feeling he would spew out Frederic’s depi
ction identically.

  “You’re too close to the vents back there. The further you progress, the more danger it holds.”

  “Yet, it’s safe enough for you to go back there and fish?”

  “It is not safe,” he corrected, his lips thinning. They barely formed a white stripe across his mouth. “But we need to eat. By the grace of God we found a food source back there. We take great care to preserve it, and ourselves. We can’t have anyone jeopardizing that.”

  Stella decided to drop the battle. Etienne would be watching out for her now. That kind of scrutiny would hurt their nighttime surveillance.

  “You’re right,” she conceded. “I was just curious. I’m studying for journalism,” she added lamely.

  Etienne continued to stare, unconvinced. Finally, his white lips angled up. “Perhaps you can do a paper for here. Local news. Girl goes missing behind the waterfall.”

  It was a sad attempt at a joke, heavily laced with menace, but she forced herself to smile.

  “Sure, the Underworld Post,” she suggested.

  Etienne nodded. “If you want to see the fishing process. I will take you back there myself.”

  Was that a peace offering? Stella decided to treat it as such.

  “I’d like that,” she replied sincerely. “Just let me know when.”

  Etienne glanced up the trail towards the crow’s nest. “All right. For now,” he added, “we best keep an eye on your friend’s father. I know he is grieving, but I also see signs of the atmosphere disagreeing with him. That is why Sarah is busy preparing.”

  Stella shut her notebook and stowed it beneath the folded blanket that served as her pillow. Today’s entry was somber and poignant. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought of her mother.

  “Mom, I think the garage door is coming down.”

  Caroline pressed her face against the driver’s side window as she backed out of their garage.

  “I don’t see it.”

  “I hear it. It doesn’t sound right.” Stella reached to turn off the radio.

  As soon as the music stopped they heard and felt the thunk.