by Unknown
'd left, he' d looked inside the shed for himself, confirming what they suspected. They 'd first heard the rumor about the three boy's underground clubhouse last winter, but so far, they' d been unable to confirm its location, or even its existence. But while Steve had finally done that, he' d delivered the information to Ronny and then conceded. Ronny called the shots. This raid was his idea. Steal their stuff. Trash the rest, including the fort.
Jason's mother had once asked him (after he, Ronny, and Steve had gotten in trouble for throwing rocks at cars) if he' d jump off a bridge if Ronny told him to do it. "No" had been his sulking answer.
But the truth was something different.
Yes, if Ronny ordered him to jump off a bridge, Jason probably would, if reluctantly, do it. What he wouldn't do was talk back or disagree with him until they were on the way down.
"So are you going home or what?" Ronny asked Steve.
"No, I'm staying. I want to see this fort, too."
"Gotta tell you," Ronny admitted, "I thought the whole thing was bullshit. Keiser told Andy Staub, who told Erica Altland, who told Ramona Gerling, and she told Linda Paloma, who told me when we were making out behind the shop class." Jason interrupted. "Linda's hot. You made out with her?" Ronny nodded. "Yeah. She's got nice tits. Let me feel them. But I didn't really believe it when she told me. Didn't think those three had it in them. Graco's a runt, and Keiser' s a fat sack of shit. Only one of them with any meat on his bones is Smeltzer."
"The hole is huge," Steve said. "Wait till you see it. Fucking massive, man! Must have taken them forever to dig it, though. Keiser' s titties must have been jiggling like JellO
while he worked that shovel."
"Well, after tonight, they'll have to dig another one." He laughed, and Steve and Jason dutifully joined him.
They reached the fence line and climbed over it. In the darkness, they didn' t notice the Page 54
old stovepipe jutting from the ground less than ten feet away. Had they seen it, they might have investigated and learned of the underground fort 's true location. Instead, they crept through the cemetery toward the utility shed.
They weaved between the tombstones, keeping an eye out for headlights or anyone else, but the graveyard was empty. An owl hooted from somewhere to their left. Crickets chirped in the grass. A tractor trailer rumbled by in the distance, rocketing down Route 116 to parts unknown.
Jason suddenly stopped.
"You guys hear that?" he whispered.
"What?" Ronny turned around, annoyed.
"Sounded like… sounded like a woman screaming."
"It was a fucking owl, dipshit."
Jason shrugged. "Maybe. Yeah, I guess you're right. Just sounded weird, is all. Like it was coming from under the ground or something."
Ronny started walking again. "Dude, you need to listen to Nancy Reagan."
"Nancy Reagan?"
"Yeah. President's wife."
"I know who she is. But what did she say?"
" 'Just say no to drugs.'"
Steve laughed at Ronny' s joke, eager to score some points over Jason. When their backs were turned, Jason shot them both the finger. Then he hurried to catch up, trotting along behind them.
He noticed that several of the graves had a sunken look, as if the dirt were collapsing in upon the coffins beneath the surface.
"Smeltzer's old man is really letting this place fall apart," Jason observed. "Frigging shame."
"What do you care? You ain' t got no family buried here." Ronnie plucked a fistful of wilting flowers from a graveside vase and threw them into the air, scattering them. "You don 't even go to this churchany church, for that matter. And besides, Mr. Smeltzer's a drunk. Everyone knows that. He's a loser, just like his son." Chuckling, he grabbed the vase and flung it skyward as well. It soared over their heads and then plummeted back to the ground, shattering on a bronze memorial plaque.
"Dude," Steve whispered. "We're gonna get caught, you keep making noise like that."
"Nobody's gonna catch us. It's after midnight. Everyone's asleep."
"You never know. Someone could be watching."
"Whatyou worried God is gonna get pissed?"
"It just don't feel right."
"Shut up. Let's go." Ronny kicked a plastic wreath like it was a football and then stalked forward again, leaving destruction in his wakeuprooted flags, scattered floral arrangements, broken glass. Jason and Steve nervously followed. But when Ronny stopped at a sagging tombstone and began to push against it, they quickly joined him despite their misgivings. It was easier that way. The three managed to push it over, and then jumped out of the way.
"Look at that," Ronny said. "Damn thing sank right into the ground. Spot must be muddy." Steve shined the flashlight on the spot. "It looks dry."
"Then why'd the ground give in so much?"
"Maybe their tunnel goes all the way out here."
"No way." Ronny shook his head. "There's no fucking way those three wimps dug all the way out here. Reiser' s a fat piece of shit. Graco might weigh a buck oh five, soaking wet. The two of them couldn 't do ten pushups if their lives depended on it. And Smeltzer didn't dig it himself.
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I'm telling you, the ground must be soft from rain or something." Afraid to disagree, Steve cast a nervous glance upward and noticed that the storm clouds were growing denser and darker. They looked swollen, heavy, as if they were about to fall out of the sky. He kept it to himself, rather than risk another round of ridicule from his friends.
Ronny started humming Judas Priest's "Breaking the Law" and Jason accompanied him on air guitar. Both of them whipped their heads back and forth, their long hair flying like windtossed straw.
They reached the rear of the shed and made sure they were still alone. Satisfied that they were the cemetery' s only occupants, Ronny motioned to Steve. All three of them were excited now at the prospect of getting back at their three enemies, and any individual misgivings they had vanished. Steve showed them the loose boards. Quickly and as quietly as possible, they worked the nails free and then clambered inside. Steve shined the flashlight around the interior. All three wrinkled their noses in disgust.
"Jesus Christ," Ronny whispered. "What the hell is that?"
"I don't know," Steve said, "but it's worse now than it was today. I noticed it when I found the hole, but it's stronger now."
Jason gagged. "Smells like something died. Man, that's foul."
"So where's the entrance?" Ronny pinched his nose shut and his voice sounded funny. Steve trained the flashlight's beam over the pile of wood. "Under there."
"Give me the light," Ronny ordered. Then, after Steve complied, "You guys pull those boards up."
Steve and Jason did as commanded, grunting with the effort. Then they stepped back from the edge. With the plywood out of the way, the nauseating stench grew even thicker. Ronny shined the light down into the hole. Darkness stared back at them.
"How deep is it?" he asked.
Steve shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't go down inside."
"Well, go now, stupid. We ain't got all night. Gotta make sure you're home before it rains. Don't want you melting or anything."
Moving with obvious reluctance, Steve stepped toward the tunnel entrance, leaned out over the opening, and looked down inside. He snorted, and then spit. The wad of phlegm and saliva vanished into the darkness.
"Didn't hear it hit bottom." He grinned. "Maybe it's a bottomless pit, like in Raiders of the Lost Ark."
Ronny didn' t say anything. His glare was enough to prod Steve into action. Steve turned around, knelt on the dirt floor, and lowered his legs into the hole. Then he inched himself backward. His waist was even with the floor, then his chest. His fingers clutched at the ground, clawing for purchase. Then his chin was even with the ground and still his feet hadn 't touched bottom.
Ronnie shined the light directly into his eyes. "Anything?"
"No…" Blinking, Steve raised a hand to shield his face from
the bright beam, forgetting that both his hands were digging into the dirt, holding him aloft. With a yelp, he slipped. His fingers left deep trenches in the floor. He vanished from sight. His screams were followed by a muffled thump.
"Holy shit." Jason ran to the edge and peered over. Chuckling, Ronny joined him. Steve stared back up at them from approximately ten feet below. His face and hands were covered in dirt. He brushed soil from his hair.
"You asshole, Ronny. Why'd you do that?"
"I'm gonna kick your ass when I get down there if you call me an asshole again."
"Sorry, dude. But that wasn't right, man. I could have broken my leg or something."
"Fuck you, crybaby. What do you see?"
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Steve shook the rest of the dirt from his hair and then peered into the darkness.
"Not much. Looks like it goes both ways. The smell is definitely coming from down here, though. God, it makes me want to puke."
"Maybe they're pissing down there," Jason suggested. "Shitting, so they ain't got to run home when they need to go."
"The walls are slimy," Steve called. "There's some kind of… goo. What is this shit?
It's sick."
Ronny shook his head in disgust. "Do you see their stash or anything?"
"No. You've got the flashlight, man."
Without warning, Ronny tossed the flashlight down to him. Instead of catching it, Steve threw his hands over his head to protect himself. The flashlight thudded onto the tunnel floor. The beam went out.
"Shit! Pick it up, man."
Plunged into total darkness, Steve knelt and frantically felt around for the flashlight. The hardpacked dirt on the tunnel' s floor felt slimy, too. His fingers brushed across the flashlight and he turned it back on, but nothing happened.
"It's broke," he called. "Get me out of here. I can't see shit, and it stinks."
"Because you're under a graveyard." Jason giggled.
"Come on, dudes. Pull me up."
They heard his hand flailing around in the darkness, slapping at the moist, earthen sides of the pit.
"Goddamn it," Ronny muttered. "Do I have to do everything myself? All we're supposed to do is trash three geeks' stupid clubhouse. Get them back for what they did to my bike. That ' s it. And now look at us. You guys would fuck up a wet dream. I swear to fucking Christ, sometimes I feel like Boss Hawg, surrounded by a bunch of idiots." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette lighter. Handing it to Jason, he said, "Go help him."
Swallowing Hard, Jason turned and lowered himself into the pit.
"Look out below."
Steve called up, "What? It's hard to hear down here."
"Move out of the way, dipshit."
Feet dangling into empty space, Jason let go and dropped to the bottom, landing in a crouch. He sprang to his feet, brushed himself off, and then thumbed the lighter wheel. He sighed in relief at the sight of the orange flame. The brief darkness had seemed like a solid thing. Next to him, Steve was visibly grateful as well.
"Coming down."
Ronny landed with a grunt. The floor squelched beneath his feet. The flame on the lighter wavered, then resumed. The three teens glanced around. They stood in the center of a tunnel, running roughly in the direction of the cemetery 's lower half, where the older graves were, and in the direction they'd come from, towards Farmer Jones' s pasture. The walls were smooth. The floor was smooth, too, although piles of soil lay scattered along it debris left behind from the digging. The passage was roughly circular, wide enough to walk single file, and varied in height. Their heads brushed against the ceiling, but none of them had to crouch or slump forward.
"This is fucking disgusting." Ronny wiped slime from his hair with his fingers, then flung it away. It dripped from his fingertips like translucent mucous. "What the hell is this shit?"
"Snail snot?" Jason suggested.
Steve and Ronny blinked at him.
"Snail snot?" Ronny snickered. "That would have to be one big fucking snail." Steve covered his mouth and nose with his hand, trying in vain to block out the stench. He immediately pulled it away. The traces of slime left on his hand smelled even worse Page 57
than the air. "So what now?"
The lighter was growing hot. Wincing, Jason switched it to his other hand and sucked the tip of his burned thumb.
"Well," Ronny said, no longer bothering to whisper. His voice echoed in the subterranean chamber. "Their clubhouse has to be in one of these two directions. You go that way," he pointed toward the old graveyard, "and Jason, you go the other way."
"What about you?" Jason asked.
"Somebody's got to stay here and be on the lookout. What if Old Man Smeltzer shows up?
Or the cops? Who's gonna warn you? Now get going. Time' s a wastin '."
"Fuck that," Steve said, taking a rare stand. "I ain't going anywhere without a light."
"Yeah, Ronny," Jason dared to agree, bolstered by Steve's bravery. "In fact, maybe we ought to bag this whole thing. We don' t know what this slime is. Could be toxic, like that chemical dump they found in Seven Valleys, with all the illegal waste. And these walls and roof don 't look too sturdy. There' s no beams or supports or nothing. Could come crashing down like that." He snapped the fingers on his free hand. Ronny sighed. "Nothing's gonna happen. Quit worrying." Steve stared at his sleeve, coated with slime from brushing up against the tunnel wall.
"You really think this shit could be toxic?"
Ronny's patience wore thin. "If you'd get to it, we wouldn' t be down here long enough for it to bother us, even if it was poisonous or something. Look, if you need your little nightlight, both of you go in one direction, then. Fucking pussies."
They glanced at one another, sighed, then set off into the darkness. Jason led the way, Steve slinking along behind him.
"Stinks worse back here," Ronny heard Jason mumble. "It's like a cloud." Steve coughed. "Bet we're heading toward the old part of the graveyard. Maybe it's bodies we're smelling."
The lighter's flame got dimmer as they kept moving forward. Their voices grew faint, and Ronny had to strain to hear them. One of them, he couldn' t tell if it was Steve or Jason, said something. The dirt walls seemed to swallow the words up.
"Can't be that far," Ronny called. "Look for their shit. Comics. Porno mags. Stuff like that. If it ain't there, then it's down the other way."
The flame was a distant pinprick now, and the shadows closed in on Ronny, surrounding him. In his mind, it felt like the darkness was pushing against his bodya tangible thing. The air inside the tunnel grew colder.
"Guys? Hey, Steve! Jason! Did you hear me, fuckers? It must be this way." The tiny flame disappeared completely. Ronny gasped, and closed his eyes for a second.
When he opened them again, it was like they were still shut. He wiggled his fingers in front of his face, but couldn 't see them.
"Hey, dickheads! Get back here with the goddamn lighter! I can't see shit." The darkness became a wall. A cocoon. Something cold and wet dripped on his head.
"Jesus Christ… hey, Jason? Get the fuck back here now, you son of a bitch! This shit ain't funny, man. Not one fucking bit."
There was no response.
"Steve?"
His annoyance turned to anger, then fright. Not fear. Not terror. Not yet. But he was frightened. He was shivering and it had nothing to do with the chill in the air. No way he wanted to stay down there in the dark, especially not when the whole place smelled like shit. He couldn ' t go find them. Without a light, he could trip or stumble into a wall or something and knock the whole tunnel down on top of them, burying them alive. Page 58
"Jason? Steve? Come on, you guys, answer me."
"me… me… me…"
His voice echoed back to him, taking on an odd, muffled quality. The stench, that open sewer smell, grew stronger. "Quit fucking around, goddamn it! I know you can hear me. You ain 't gone that far."
"far… far… far…"
"I'm gonna beat the livin
g shit out of you both if you don't get back here with that lighter right fucking now."
"now… now… now…"
The echo died, and was followed by a new sound. A grunt.
"The fuck was that?"
He wondered if there could be an animal down there with them. Maybe a fox or a skunk, maybe with rabies. Ronny shivered, then got pissed off all over again. He shifted his weight, and his foot collided with the discarded flashlight, knocking it farther into the darkness. He bit back a yelp. Enraged, he took a deep breath, preparing to shout at the top of his lungs, to yell and holler at them like never before, to put the fear of Ronny Nace into them.
That was when the screams started.
"Oh shit…"
Muffled. Faint. But despite the distance, there was no mistaking the terror in them. Or the pain. No illusions; they weren' t just fucking around or playing a joke. Something was wrong.
"Jason?" Ronny's voice became a hoarse whisper. "SSteve? Please come back. Please