Raven Rise

by D. J. MacHale

  Good for the skimmer. Bad for me. I was stranded underwater. I looked up to see the blurry images of the flickering yellow quig lights hovering above me. I couldn’t surface. They’d be on me. I chose a direction and started to swim. Desperately. I didn’t know why or where I was going, but I didn’t want to be where I was. I half expected to hit the same wall the skimmer had, but I saw what looked like a long beam in front of me that was just below the water. I swam under it. Now I had to get air. I pulled for the surface and hit my hands on something. I was below a dock. If I hadn’t been in a panic before, I sure was then, because I was trapped. If the water level went all the way up to this hard surface, I’d drown. I didn’t have the energy to swim back out. Not that I even knew which way was out. With my hand touching the hard ceiling, I cautiously surfaced and hit the top of my head. No! There was no breathing room! I kept my wits though. I only needed a few inches of air. The distance from the top of my head to my mouth was what? Six inches? I didn’t need that much. I kicked my legs so I was floating on my back. I pushed my face up, lips first, and broke the surface. Yes! I think I gulped more water than air and had to gag and cough. I didn’t care. I had air. I pressed my lips against the rough surface to stay as far out of the water as possible. I’m guessing there was about a three-inch gap between the surface of the water and the underside of whatever was above me. It was enough. Once I calmed myself, I actually found it easier to breathe through my nose, because when I opened my mouth, water sloshed inside. It was a nightmare situation, but I was alive.

  The surface was rough, like wood. Faint lines of light glowed between the planks. I positioned my eye below one seam to try to see what was above. When I focused, I immediately gasped and dropped below the surface, inhaling a bunch of water. I instantly pushed back up and coughed it out. I had to keep my head together or I’d drown for sure. What I had seen was a bunch of quig-bees trying to push themselves through the cracks between the boards to get to me. They sounded angry, too. If they got through, they’d be on me. The quigs were no more than two inches from my eyes, desperately trying to get at me. All I could do was hope that the space between the boards was too narrow for them to squeeze through.

  A few agonizing seconds later, none of them had made it. They were too big. I was safe. Uncomfortable as hell, but safe. The only way they would get me was if they waited me out. No way I’d let that happen. As torturous as it was, I was prepared to float like that for days to avoid those bees.

  I’m glad to say it didn’t take days. I had been under there for a few minutes at best when the quig swarm suddenly took off. I could see the flashes of light through the thin cracks as they streaked through the darkness, headed someplace else. I waited. The buzzing sound was soon gone. I didn’t hear the whine of the skimmer engine either. The only sound was the sloshing of the water against the underside of the structure above my head. I waited a few more minutes, to make sure they were really gone, then made a move to get out. I took a deep breath and pushed underwater. Looking around, I saw that one direction looked brighter than the other. I swam that way. It only took a few strokes before the ceiling I was under, ended. I was back out in open water. Or at least I was back out to where the skimmer had abandoned me. I kicked and broke the surface to take the first comfortable breath of air I’d had since I entered the water.

  A quick look around told me several things. Most important, the quig-bees were gone. Hopefully for good. Second, the skimmer was gone too. I guessed it had spun around and made its way back out to sea. I hoped the quigs were chasing it. The third thing I realized was that I was in a familiar place. I had maneuvered the skimmer beneath the tall pier where the thousands of skimmers from Cloral had been kept. This is where Siry and I stole the skimmer to escape from Rubic City. Most of the skimmers were gone. I saw a few vehicles bobbing against the docks, but that was it. It was like being inside a big, wet, empty airplane hangar.

  I had been hiding beneath one of the narrow docks that ringed the place. I took a few strokes back to the dock and hoisted myself up on top. Man, it felt good to have something solid under my butt. It felt even better to breathe. I made two fists. My hands had been stung pretty bad and were swollen. I didn’t care. It was a small price to pay. I wished I could have sat around and enjoyed the simple pleasure of filling my lungs with something other than water, but I had business to do. My relief over having survived the quig attack didn’t last long. It was time to find the mine that the Flighters had been digging.

  It was time to find Saint Dane.

  My single goal was to figure out a way to destroy that mine and bury the flume forever. How? I had no idea. If I wanted to save Ibara and return to my life on the island, I would have to find a way. I hoped I wasn’t too late. Could the flume already have been found? How long had the Flighters been digging? How deep was the flume buried beneath the rubble of Rubic City? It seemed like an impossible task to unearth something so huge, without tools or digging equipment…other than the bleeding hands and tired backs of the poor Flighters. Logic told me that digging out the flume was impossible. Yet Loque said he had been inside the mine. They had made progress. I had to hope that the attack of the quig-bees didn’t mean that the flume was already open.

  The one weapon I’d brought with me, the bow and arrows, was gone. I had it beneath the deck of the skimmer, which was now headed off to parts unknown. I needed something to protect myself, so I scanned around for a length of pipe or wood. I saw what I needed a few feet from where I came out of the water. It was a wooden rod with a hook on the end that was probably used to control the skimmers from the docks. I picked it up, felt that it was solid, and spun it once. Bad move. I was out of practice. My swollen sore hands didn’t help either. I lost control of the rod and beaned myself in the head. Dope. Not only did I nearly knock myself out, I proved to myself that I was rusty. I hadn’t fought in months, and it wasn’t as if I were an expert in fighting—like Loor—in the first place. I had to have faith that if I needed them, my skills would return. Was fighting like riding a bike? I was afraid I would have to find that out at some point. I hoped I wouldn’t knock myself out before then.

  I climbed a metal ladder up and out of the pier and got my first close view of the decaying metropolis of Rubic City. Nothing had changed since I was last there. There were a few hundred yards of bare ground that were covered with mounds of debris—I was guessing this was at one time a park. Beyond that, the tall buildings began. The afternoon was so clear I could make out the giant outline of the Lifelight pyramid that was nestled deep within the canyons of skyscrapers. That was where I had to begin my search for the tunnel that would lead to the mine.

  I didn’t want to run into any Flighters along the way. Or more quig-bees, for that matter. I figured the best thing I could do was keep moving, so I sprinted off the huge dock and headed for the city. Being in the open like that made me feel pretty vulnerable. There could have been eyes on me that were peering out from any number of the thousands of windows that overlooked the harbor area. I darted from mound to mound, trying to shield myself from curious eyes. It was probably a waste of energy.

  I hit the first street and decided to hug the buildings. There was always the danger of a Flighter lying in wait and jumping out at me through a nearby window before I had time to react, but it was better than running down the street for all to see. The afternoon shadows were long. I felt fairly safe creeping through the darkened corners. I’d been through this city before, but it still gave me the creeps. The idea that a bustling, modern metropolis could crumble like this was pretty sobering. Nothing had been taken care of in more than three hundred years. I wondered if someday it would all be buried, waiting for archaeological expeditions of future generations to uncover the stores and streets of this dead civilization.

  It was also living proof that Saint Dane’s quest was nothing short of monstrous. He helped destroy the civilization on Veelox. Why did he think he could convince me that something like this happened for the ultimate g
ood? He was either crazy or delusional. Maybe both.

  My plan was to start at the Lifelight pyramid and make my way toward the area of the city where I knew the flume was. When Gunny and I first arrived here so long ago, the gate to the flume was hidden next to a derelict subway track, like on Second Earth. When Siry and I tried to find the flume on my last visit, we discovered that an entire building had crumbled over it and buried everything. Question was, where would it be smart to start an excavation project? Loque said he passed through a red arch when he was taken to dig. It wasn’t a lot to go on. Somewhere between the Lifelight pyramid and the flume was a red arch. Piece of cake. Yeah, right.

  It was getting late. It would be dark soon. There were no lights in Rubic City. When it got dark, it was deadly dark. If I didn’t find that red arch quickly, I’d have to wait until morning. The idea of spending a night alone in one of those buildings wasn’t a happy one. Luckily, I didn’t see a single soul on my way to the pyramid, which I guess was no big surprise. The Flighters hid within those old buildings like rats. They could have been all around me, and I wouldn’t have known. I hated this place.

  I finally made it to the last building before the clearing that led up to the pyramid. I figured that was close enough to start the search. I was already on the side of the pyramid that was closest to the flume. Which street should I take to begin my search? I would have to go out in the open, closer to the pyramid, to get a perspective on my choices. That didn’t thrill me. I was the only thing moving. An easy target. But what else could I do?

  I jogged toward the pyramid for about twenty yards and turned back. I saw that most of the streets that ended at the pyramid were cluttered with debris. Most looked impassable. All but one. It was the obvious choice to start my search. I ran toward that street and moved quickly along the cluttered sidewalk. It didn’t look different from any of the other desolate streets of Rubic City. The pavement was cracked, and littered with bits of cement and glass. Skeletons of derelict cars lined the way. Any signage from the stores was worn off long ago. I crossed one block, then another, and a third. I would guess that the distance between the pyramid and the flume was about a half mile. I must have covered at least half of that without seeing anything that looked like a red arch.

  I kept glancing back, to make sure I wasn’t being followed, which kept me from being totally focused on the search. After traveling several blocks, I feared I may have missed it. Or that I was on the wrong street. The idea of spending a night alone in Rubic City suddenly seemed like the least of my problems. Finding this elusive red arch could take forever. I was about to turn around and retrace my steps to the pyramid so I could start over again, when I saw it. It was built into one of the buildings, looking like an oversized door. It was a big, red frame. The idea of a red frame built into a building made no sense to me until I got closer. There was a single word on top of the arch. It was a mosaic created out of colored glass, which is why it survived so many years without wearing away. The word was “Subway.” This was the Veelox version of a subway entrance. Like on the Earth territories, the flume in Rubic City was next to subway tracks. I had found it!

  I stepped through the arch into complete darkness. My heart sank. They had no lights. How was I supposed to find my way? I thought back to Loque’s description of digging with his hands. He didn’t mention that it was done in the pitch dark. I wondered if it hadn’t mattered to him because he was nearly blind. It only added to the horror of what Saint Dane put those Flighters through. Did he actually make them dig through the rubble of the city in the dark? How horrific would that be?

  My eyes adjusted enough to see gray shadows. That was good. It meant there was at least a little ambient light. I walked farther and sensed that I was in a wide corridor. I was about to take another step when something made me stop. Call it instinct, but before putting my foot down, I looked at the floor to see…nothing. The floor ended. I was about to step off a jagged edge into a dark abyss. Talk about a shot of adrenaline! I took a step back and dropped to one knee. That was way too close to disaster.

  Once I calmed down, I peered over the edge to find there was a twisted ladder leaning against the edge. This had to be the entrance to the “mine” that Loque described. I gingerly climbed down the rickety ladder, descending even farther into darkness. It wasn’t easy since I also had to juggle the wooden pole I’d found. I wasn’t about to give that thing up. No way. I climbed down forty, fifty feet. It was hard to tell. Oddly, the farther down I got, the brighter it became. I wondered if there might actually be another tunnel opening down there that was letting in the last bit of daylight. Whatever it was, it was okay by me.

  I finally hit bottom to see there was no other tunnel opening, but there was light. Artificial light. Kind of like the lights from Ibara. I saw a crudely strung set of what looked like white Christmas lights stretched along a narrow, low tunnel. They had lights down here after all! I thought back to when Siry and I stepped into the core of the Lifelight pyramid and it powered back to life. Somehow there was still power in Rubic City. It looked as if the Flighters had figured out a way to use that power to light their way into the tunnel. It wasn’t bright by any means. I’d say one small light hung every ten feet or so. That was okay. It was enough to keep me from walking into walls.

  Before taking another step, I stood there and listened. I wanted to know whether I was alone, or if the Flighters were up ahead, digging. I didn’t hear anything, other than the occasional crack or groan of the tunnel. I hoped that was because the Flighters had finished for the day, and it was “Heigh-ho” home from work. The alternative wasn’t a good one. If nobody was digging, it might mean that they had already found the flume. I didn’t even want to consider that possibility.

  The tunnel was treacherous at best. Every few feet I saw something that was used to hastily shore it up. There were flimsy wooden beams and thick cement tubes. It was all pretty haphazard. I even saw a twisted chair straining to hold up an overhang of rock. It wasn’t exactly a professional job, but why should it be? Flighters didn’t know how to dig tunnels. Even if they did, they didn’t have adequate material to help them make it safe. The creaking and groaning made me think that this whole thing could collapse if I so much as farted.

  It was eerie, because the walls weren’t all rock and dirt. All around me were layers of compressed, man-made objects that had been crushed by other structures that fell on top. I saw street signs, furniture, window frames, and street lights. There were plates and pots and utensils. I passed by tools and doorknobs and even the front bumper of a car. It was like a Rubic City sandwich. Everything was fused into the rock and sand, making it an archaeological trip through the city’s history. No need for those future archaeologists to do much digging. It was all right there and exposed.

  I walked slowly, with the wooden pole out in front of me in case I didn’t see something in my way. The tunnel was low and narrow. It seemed like they didn’t want to dig out any more than they had to. Can’t say I blame them, since they only had their hands to dig with. For that reason I was surprised to see that, after walking a few hundred yards, the tunnel grew wide and high. Above me, running along the ceiling, were the jagged remains of two steel beams that ran parallel to each other. I didn’t understand what they could be, until I walked a few more feet and had to stop short. What I saw above me was impossible, yet it was there. It was the undercarriage of a subway car that was dangling down from the rock ceiling above. I counted twelve steel wheels in all. The parallel steel beams were train tracks. It looked as if they had tunneled beneath this train without realizing it was there. It must have been a mistake, because there were several rickety-looking vertical beams holding the car up. They looked like the wooden cross-ties from the tracks. I could hear the massive train squeak and groan, as if it wanted to break loose from the ceiling and come crashing down. I’m guessing that once they discovered the train, it would have been too much work to stop and dig around it, so they just kept on going. It was a dan
gerous decision. I hoped it was a bad one.

  Beyond that point, the tunnel narrowed again. There were no lights in this section, so it was slow going. I got the feeling that I was nearing the end of the digging, because there was less shoring-up going on. I walked slowly, so as not to slam my face into anything.

  That’s when I heard the sound. I can best describe it as “hollow.” It was a sound that felt familiar, though I couldn’t place it. Up until that point it had been deathly quiet, other than the creaks and cracks of settling rock. This sound was different. Was it the quig-bees massing for another attack? No. This was different. It was more like white noise. It was an odd sound to hear down there in that narrow labyrinth. I took a few more steps and saw a sharp turn to the right about thirty yards ahead. Light glowed from around the corner. Something was up there. I stopped and listened. Could the Flighters be around that corner, digging? No. There were no human sounds. No movement. Only that haunting, hollow sound…

  That I now recognized. My gut twisted. I started to run. It didn’t matter that I could barely see where I was going. I had to know that I was wrong. I told myself it could be anything. It could have been another wide cavern. Or a subway station. Or anything other than the one thing I absolutely knew it would be. I reached the turn and stopped. If I was right, I had lost. I knew I was right. Turning the corner was only a formality. I stepped forward, turned, and saw exactly what I feared. The reason there were no Flighters digging was because their work was done. I was too late. Rising up before me was the tunnel to infinity.