by C. Cervi
“I thought . . .” Keith started to tell him.
“Yeah, I heard it too—come on. We can’t miss this chance.”
Briefly, Aaron thought about changing his plans and just making a break for the gate, but the fog was getting thicker, and he didn’t want to take the chance of losing his way, or his brother. The wagon continued on, past the hot house, and eventually stopped in front of what looked to be a small shed Aaron hadn’t noticed before. He and Keith ducked around the side of the building just as the door opened and soft light spilled out into the night as someone emerged. It was too difficult to see a face through the mist, but there was no mistaking the voice behind the lantern.
“It’s about time you got here,” Grant said. “Did you have much trouble finding your way?”
“No,” a male voice that was vaguely familiar answered him, “just got a late start.”
Aaron struggled to place where he’d heard the voice before. He and Keith continued to watch as the man and Grant unloaded supplies. Grant had hung the lantern outside the shed, and for one brief moment, as the other man passed, Aaron caught sight of his face. It was the same man that had tried to warn him and Keith about entering the canyon as they’d ridden out of town. For the first time in quite a while Aaron began to feel hopeful. If this man had been willing to offer a warning, surely he wouldn’t mind delivering their message, and perhaps even take Keith along.
The two men had finished unloading, and Aaron watched as Grant stood in the doorway while the other man went to fetch one last item. He returned with a small wooden box that, from the clinking sound, was obviously filled with small bottles.
“I’ll be needing another one of these next time you come out,” Grant told him.
“That stuff is pretty powerful,” the man replied. “Use too much and you can kill a man with it.”
“I don’t use enough to kill anybody,” Grant assured him before placing a small pouch in the man’s outstretched hand.
The man quickly pocketed it, and then hopped up in his wagon. Grant stayed in the doorway and watched as he drove away. Aaron was afraid they were going to miss their opportunity, but finally Grant went back inside the shed. As soon as he shut the door, Aaron and Keith took off after the quickly fading light. When they caught up to the back of the wagon, Aaron and Keith each took a side. Aaron ran toward the man, praying that he could get his attention without alerting anyone else of their presence. In the fog, the man hadn’t seen them, and Aaron was able to get right up alongside him before he spoke.
“Hey, mister,” he said, his voice just loud enough to be heard.
The man startled and jerked the reins, forcing the horses into a quick stop.
“Who’s there?” he asked anxiously. “Please . . . don’t hurt me.”
Keith made his way to the startled horses and worked to calm them.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Aaron said, stepping into the light. “Do you remember me?”
The man squinted at him for a moment, and then seemed to regain some of his composure.
“Yes,” he said, his voice shaky. “You have a brother? I . . . I tried to warn you.”
“I know you did,” Aaron answered. “I was hoping you might be willing to help us again.”
“I can’t,” the man said quickly. “I can’t do anything . . . I need to leave . . . I can’t be seen talking to you.”
Aaron took a step closer and took out the note he had written.
“I just need you to send a telegram for me,” he said.
“Come on, mister,” Keith added, coming up beside him. “You can at least do that much.”
The man shifted uneasily on his seat, but after a moment reached out and took the note.
“I have to go,” he said, and without waiting for a response, he flicked the reins and continued forward.
Aaron didn’t waste a second.
“Hurry,” he said, turning to Keith.
“Aaron, I . . .”
“Oh, just go will ya?” Aaron said, giving him a push toward the wagon.
He watched as Keith disappeared into the dark.
“And be careful,” he whispered.
A part of him wanted to join his brother, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything were to happen to Emily or Philip before he could get back with help.
“Please be careful,” he said quietly, before turning to leave.
There were no lights leading back to the house, but he tried his best to head in its general direction. He was beginning to get disoriented when, in the distance, he heard the threatening growl of a creature he recognized. Unconsciously, he bent down and rubbed the mark the animal had left on him. A moment later, there was a terrible onslaught of noise as screams-- a mixture of both man and beast-- filled the air.
C
hapter 11
“Keith!” Aaron yelled as he whirled around, running back toward his brother.
He could hear the wagon careening forward as the terrified horse ran wildly into the night. Stumbling blindly through the fog, he followed the sounds until they ended in a horrific crash. Then there was silence. His heart was beating fiercely in his chest, as he continued to run in the direction from where he’d heard the crash. Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath him and he fell for what seemed a long time. His last conscious thoughts before he hit the ground were of his little brother.
Aaron blinked slowly—even that simple act causing him pain.
“Hey, there,” a familiar voice greeted him. “Don’t tell me you’re finally going to wake up?”
Aaron tried to say his brother’s name, but the only sound he emitted came out like a harsh croak.
“Here,” Keith said, dribbling some bitter tasting water into his parched mouth. “I know it’s pretty bad, but it’s all there is.”
Aaron tried to sit up and was instantly rewarded with a wave of nausea. He did his best to hold himself together, but within moments he was retching up the filthy water. Keith tried to turn him, which only resulted in waves of pain and more vomiting. After a while, there was nothing left in his stomach, and Keith eased him back over.
“You’re alive,” Aaron whispered, his voice sounding harsh and raspy even to his own ears. “What happened? Where are we?”
“You need to rest,” Keith answered, “I’ll explain . . .”
Aaron was asleep again before Keith could finish speaking, and he continued to float in and out of consciousness—uncertain of the passage of time, but aware enough to know that the pain of being awake was a better alternative to the agony of being asleep. His dreams were dark and vivid—a chase, a scream, a large black monster. Time and again he woke wide-eyed, and sweating profusely. Each time Keith made him drink more of the brackish water, and each time he vomited it back up. At times, Keith’s voice even entered his dreams with words that would start out soft and soothing, then slowly distort until he was once again hearing the eerie whispers from the tunnel. Visions of Emily and Philip flashed through his mind—they needed help—he had to help them.
“Keith, help them. Get them out.”
But when he opened his eyes, Keith was gone. He was alone, and in the dark. Wet, cold, and broken.
“Pa, help me!”
“Go to sleep, son.”
“I can’t see—I’m hurt—help me, Pa.”
“It’s okay, son, go to sleep. Just go to sleep.”
With his father’s voice humming softly in his ears, Aaron finally drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep. When he woke again, he was afraid the dreams had returned. His eyes were open, but he couldn’t see. He tried to move his legs, but soon realized that he was immersed up to his hips in something thick and slimy. He groaned aloud as he mentally evaluated each aching part of his anatomy.
“Careful, there,” Keith said.
Aaron jumped at the unexpected sound and then gasped in pain.
“Sorry,” his brother continued. “I’m pretty sure your ribs aren’t broken, but they’re banged up.”
/> Aaron cautiously prodded his ribcage and, after a few painful moments, came to agree with Keith’s assessment.
“My ankle,” he said, and tried to pull it from whatever substance he was currently immersed in.
“Yeah,” Keith answered. “It’s sprained pretty bad. I wrapped it up for you, but you’ve been thrashing around an awful lot.”
“How long?” he managed to ask.
Keith brought his cupped hand to Aaron’s lips again, with more of the foul water. Aaron pulled away, his nose wrinkling in disgust.
“Come on,” Keith coaxed. “You have to drink. Don’t make me challenge you to a race.”
Aaron recognized the teasing tone in his brother’s voice, but just the thought of chuckling exhausted him. He slowly turned his head back to Keith’s hand and forced himself to drink.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“A couple of days—in answer to your first question,” Keith replied, “and, as near as I can figure, we’re in the bottom of an old well.”
Aaron looked up, but could detect nothing except solid darkness.
“Is it night?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Keith said. “The top’s been boarded up. It’s only been opened twice, when someone dropped down some food.”
“Someone?” Aaron questioned.
“I’m not sure—could be Emily. The bundles look the same as the ones she brings,” Keith answered. “I’m sure you’re wondering how I got down here too.”
Aaron had been wondering, but he was too tired to ask any more questions.
“I crawled in back of the wagon like we’d agreed,” Keith continued. “We actually made it out of the gate. I couldn’t see anything, but I know we didn’t get very far before that creature—it had to be the same one from the mine—came out of nowhere. It jumped the driver. I’m pretty sure it killed him, cause his screams were . . . well . . . I’m sure he’s dead. It knocked him right out of the wagon and the horses panicked. I tried to get to the front to stop them, but I tripped over the side and fell out. It’s probably a good thing I did, because the horses went straight over a ledge. I couldn’t see it, but I heard their screams when they fell. I didn’t know which direction to go, so I just started walking. I must have headed back this way. Anyway, somebody grabbed me from behind. I tried to struggle and took a few hits for it. Whoever it was he was pretty big. Next thing I knew, they dumped me down this hole with you.”
Aaron was suddenly filled with concern for his brother, and it gave him a surge of energy.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Not much,” Keith answered. “I didn’t hit my head on the way down like you did and, of course, I had the added benefit of landing on top of you.”
Aaron could hear the guilt in Keith’s voice. “Well,” he said lightly, “I guess it’s good you’ve lost some weight then, otherwise, my ribs would definitely be broken.”
Keith gave a soft laugh, and Aaron tried, once again, to sit up. It finally came to him that he was sitting in a few feet of mud—mud that had probably saved his life. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had landed on solid ground. He supposed he should be thankful that his injuries were so few.
“Keith, if you help me get my belt off, I have a few candles and some matches,” he said.
“I already got it,” Keith answered. “I’ve used three of the candles. I tried not to use them too much, but I needed to check your injuries, and . . . it was so dark . . .”
“It’s okay, Keith,” Aaron assured him. “Just hold on to the other two for now.”
As much as he tried to resist, exhaustion was claiming him once again. He fought to stay awake, needing to make plans, and wanting to make sure Keith knew that none of this was his fault. Aaron’s conscious thoughts slipped away slowly, to be replaced once more with the terrifying dreams. He tried to listen for his father’s voice, but all he could hear were the beastly screams and the crashing of the wagon, over and over . . .
The clatter of boards, followed by a blinding stream of sunlight, rescued Aaron from his latest nightmare. His eyes, having grown accustomed to the darkness around him, blinked rapidly against the bright sunlight.
“Who’s there?” Keith yelled.
Aaron flinched when a small bundle splatted onto the mud beside him.
“Emily?” he called, grabbing the bundle before it was soaked.
There was a moment of silence, and then her soft voice floated down to them.
“You’re both alive?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Can you get us out of here? We need a rope.”
“I can’t,” she said, her voice filled with fear and regret. “They’ll see me. I . . . I’m sorry.”
She was already replacing the boards as he struggled to stand, but his injured ankle gave way beneath him and he sank back into the mud.
“Emily,” he called in one last attempt, “talk to Grant or Tom. Please, we need your help.”
There was no answer, and the last bit of warm sunlight vanished as the final board fell into place. Aaron couldn’t help but feel as though the seal had been replaced on his coffin. He was startled a moment later when Keith spoke, more by what he said then just the sound of his voice.
“She likes you, you know.”
“What?”
“I figured it was her bringing the food before, but she wouldn’t answer me,” Keith replied.
“She’s just a child,” Aaron said. “She needed someone to fill the void left by her father.”
“Whatever you say, big brother but, if you ask my opinion, she’s not risking her neck for a father figure.”
Aaron didn’t answer, but he thought about what Keith had said. He had noticed the way Emily looked at him. He thought back to when he had asked her about the delivery--that flash of something else in her eyes. He’d always been good at reading people, and if he’d had to guess he would have said she was jealous. But jealous of what? He knew the answer to that question as soon as his mind asked it. She didn’t want him to leave. This raised an even more unsettling question in the back of his mind, but he refused to give that one any serious consideration. Emily would never turn them in. Deciding it was time for a distraction, he turned to Keith.
“Why don’t you go ahead and light one of the candles, so we can see what she brought?”
Keith did quickly and, for the first time, Aaron could get a good look at their surroundings. They were in a circular pit about twenty feet deep. Aaron guessed it had been the beginning of a well that, for whatever reason, had been abandoned. Of course, there was always the possibility that it had been dug as a trap. That idea seemed a little farfetched to him, but then, just the existence of this place would be a stretch of the imagination for most people.
Keith interrupted his thoughts by passing him a small, wrinkled apple. He ate it quickly, seeds and all. There were also two hard boiled eggs, a couple of carrots, and a half a loaf of bread. They each ate an egg, then set the bread and carrots aside for later.
The food did little to satisfy the gnawing pain in his stomach, and the rank, musty smells emanating from all around them took any pleasure away from eating. Keith had done his best to section off the area that had the most water, but it proved to be an impossible task trying to keep the water clean. Using the cloth their food had been wrapped in, Aaron strained some of the filthy water into his parched mouth--he knew they wouldn’t be able to survive much longer without a better source of water. Keith used the cloth next, and Aaron grimaced as his little brother gagged. They both decided to break off a portion of the carrot to mask the taste in their mouth.
“Well, that’s a little better,” Keith said around a mouthful.
Aaron raised an eyebrow in agreement as he worked to suck the moisture from his piece of carrot.
“So, I was out for quite a while,” he said after a moment. “What did you do during that time?”
“I read some of the journal.” Keith shrugged.
“Only some?
” Aaron teased. “I would have thought you’d have finished it by now.”
Keith grinned and took out the book before answering.
“Well, I probably could have if you hadn’t been making such a fuss. I spent two whole candle stubs just taking care of you, and the third one didn’t last long.”
Aaron relaxed against the wall opposite Keith, and looked at his little brother as if seeing him for the first time. He’d worked so hard since they’d been captured to keep Keith alive and safe. It dawned on him now that, if it hadn’t been for his younger brother, he would probably be the one that was dead. He nudged Keith’s knee with his foot, and Keith looked at him questioningly.
“Thank you, by the way,” Aaron said, his eyes shining softly. “You saved my life.”
Keith beamed for a moment, then turned serious.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “We’ve still got to get out of here somehow. Do you . . . do you think this is just a punishment, or are they planning on letting us die down here?”
Keith’s face appeared long and grey in the flickering light, and Aaron struggled to put his own doubts aside for the sake of his brother.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “It doesn’t seem likely that they would let us have food if they intended for us to die. Look, why don’t you read some of the journal to me? I have a feeling there’s something important in there that we need to know.”
“I’ll just start from where you left off then,” Keith answered.
“Sounds good. I was on the third entry.”
“And you say I read slow,” Keith teased. “All right, here we go . . .”
Journal Entry – 13 May
I talked to Jesse today. He started sobbing when he heard my voice. He begged me to get him out of the box they’re holding him in. I told him I would do what I could, and that he needed to be strong. I decided to talk to the guard captain about letting Jesse out. Most of the men around here just call him G.C.—no one seems to know his real name. I heard him talking to one of the other guards. He’s planning something. I’m not sure what, but I know it’s big, and that it involves some of the other prisoners. He was giving the guard a list of names—Jesse’s was among them. I need to find out what’s going on. I’m planning on sneaking into his office the first chance I get. I can’t get the sound of Jesse’s crying out of my head. I can hear his whimpering even when I’m asleep.