by Perrin Briar
The earth rained over Zoe, dousing her with clods of grass. She clawed at the dirt and rocks with her hands, snatching at protruding tree roots. As the dirty mist settled, Zoe realized she wasn’t the only one clinging onto dangling tree roots. Bryan, Cassie and Aaron were too. Dirt, mud and rocks fell into the huge hole below them.
“We’re okay,” Zoe said. “It’s stopped. We just have to climb up and we’ll be fine.”
She reached up and grabbed a handful of tree roots.
Crunch!
Zoe fell, the tree roots still in her hand. She screamed. So did Bryan, Aaron and Cassie as they fell down, down, down into the depths of the sinkhole below.
33
THE PHONE RANG and rang but Bryan didn’t answer. It wasn’t like him. In fact, Rosetta couldn’t recall a time when he hadn’t answered within the first few rings – even when it was the middle of the night.
Zoe certainly has him on a tight leash, Rosetta thought. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to end up strangling herself with it. Cutting Bryan off from his company was like cutting him off from oxygen. She only risked damaging their relationship. Bryan had two children; Cassie and Angelo Industries. He was not about to hand over control to someone else, no matter how much he loved her.
Rosetta hit the redial button and listened to the tone again. Perhaps he had dropped or lost his phone. It was easy to do while out in the woods, hopping over rocks and fallen trees. He could have been juggling various items trying to find the one he needed. Somehow Rosetta found that hard to believe. Bryan wasn’t the dropping-something-by-accident type. And if he had dropped it, he would have sent her an email. She hadn’t received one.
She felt a tingling sensation up her arm. She always felt it in times of danger, and the loss of her arm hadn’t weakened the sensation. In fact, it had only seemed to have strengthened it, as if her body was making up for the loss. She felt the tingle in her real arm for the last time while out on patrol in Afghanistan.
It happened an instant before a white flash. The next thing she knew, there was a searing hot pain. She still sometimes woke up in a sweat. If there was a hell, that was what it would have felt like. She also had shrapnel in her thigh, but it was a pinprick compared to the pain in her arm. She peered around at the wreckage of her jeep and noticed the empty seats where her comrades-in-arms had been just a moment before.
She passed in and out of consciousness more times than she could recall. Each time she saw the same grey wisp of smoke rising up into the blue sky. She had just laid there, with nothing to do besides try and ignore the pain. It was only by sheer luck someone from search and rescue had found her. The story was they were making one last sweep of the site before they had to hit it. Enemy troops were on their way.
They lifted up the corrugated iron sheeting and their eyes widened, shot through with temporary expressions of disgust. Not the most comforting of signs. They staunched the wound at her side and then strapped her inside the helicopter. She fell in and out of consciousness over the next two weeks, remembering little besides bright white lights and trundling wheels.
She was attached to a machine that made faint bleeping noises like the ringing tone on the end of Bryan’s phone. She panicked, lying there, barely able to move. She had been wrong. This was hell. Those were the most terrifying moments of her life.
Then a nurse came over and turned off the machine.
“Nice to see you’re awake,” she said.
Awake. She wasn’t dead after all.
“What am I doing here?” Rosetta said.
It was a stupid question. Why was anyone in hospital?
“You were involved in an accident,” the nurse said. “The search and rescue team found and brought you here.”
Rosetta squinted at the nurse’s nametag.
“Delia, where’s the rest of my squad?” she said. People were nicer when you knew their name. “Are they in another ward?”
A sadness swept across Delia’s face then. She must have been new. A soft heart like hers couldn’t survive in an army medical unit for long.
Rosetta looked away, tears coming to her eyes.
“You lost an arm in the explosion,” Delia said. “The surgeons were able to stop the bleeding.”
Rosetta wasn’t ready to take that in. She was still reeling with the loss of her friends.
“How long have I been here?” Rosetta said.
Her legs felt weak. She tried to sit up but couldn’t.
“Two weeks,” Delia said.
Rosetta went through painful and exhausting therapy to regain the use of her limbs. She learned to hate the parallel bars. After just a few weeks the muscles of her body had already weakened. So much for months of intensive training. She would have to work on rebuilding them. But that wasn’t her main problem.
Her main problem was the loss of her arm. Try as she might, she just couldn’t get used to not having it there. She would turn around and expect to pick up a book or piece of paper, or to move aside as someone passed, only to lose her balance and collapse on the floor. Things would never be the same again.
They plonked a plastic lump on her shoulder and called it a ‘prosthetic’. It was an early Angelo Industries model. She hated it. It could carry out only the simplest of movements, and looked as much like an arm as a child’s drawing.
Returning to US soil, she was rebuffed at every door. No one wanted to give a job to a one-armed former servicewoman. She wanted to scream at them that she had put her life on the line for her country, for them. But she didn’t. Perhaps that was part of the reason for their discomfort. They felt guilty, knowing they should help, but unwilling to take the risk.
She survived on her savings for eight months, squeezing out every cent she could. She was on her last dollar and had nowhere to go. It was only Bryan, taking pity on her and her loss during the war, that the world seemed to stop ignoring her and give her a little luck for a change.
He had taken her in when no one else would. He showed her kindness, like a childhood friend. He enrolled her on the testing program so she would get the latest in robotic limbs without any of the cost. If Bryan was in trouble she was determined to help him. She owed him.
Bryan’s answer machine asked her to leave a message. She hung up.
The final thing he said to her the day he left to go camping came back to her: “If I don’t answer my phone, come and rescue me.”
They had both laughed, but it didn’t seem so funny now.
Come and rescue me.
Not since the day she lost her arm did she feel such a tingling in her phantom limb. Something was wrong. She needed to take action now.
34
ROOTS SLAPPED his face like an unwelcome wake-up call, and before he could react, a rock smacked him on the forehead. Aaron opened his mouth to cry out when a cascade of dirt smothered him. He coughed, choking on it, feeling it ram up his nose and down his throat. He coughed again, breathing it in. The dirt only made the dark flat rock surface more slippery. He dug in his heels to stop, but he couldn’t get any purchase and kept falling.
He raised his leg to the roof to jam himself into place, but his foot only jolted back and tore the dirt loose, spilling on top of him in a thicker wave. The stones cut his cheek. He pressed his hand to it to staunch the bleeding. The flat rock angled down, and he fell faster, almost straight down, losing touch with the platform and falling through the air.
He smashed into something below, hard, and his legs crumpled beneath him. Now he was sliding backwards, headfirst. He tucked in his legs and spun around.
There was a rushing sound, like a waterfall, and he slid through something slimy. Stagnant water splattered over him like a wet curtain. The surface tilted to one side and he followed it around, and then up at a slight angle. The earth brushed against the top of his head. He lay down on his back as the tunnel became narrower.
He slowed to a stop, legs dangling over the side of what felt like a long drop. He was panting. He took a moment to g
et his breath. Darkness surrounded him on all sides. He got to his hands and knees and looked in the direction he’d come.
There was a scraping sound, coming from directly in front of him. Out of the darkness came a rushing scream. Aaron caught sight of Cassie’s face, eyes wide with fear, face smeared with dirt, mouth open and black, before she smacked into him, knocking him over the side.
Aaron hit another surface. Thankfully it wasn’t as far as he had feared. Cassie slid down the surface ahead of him and into nondescript darkness. He wondered how he managed to see anything at all, but he was moving too fast to get a good look at what was casting the light, something buried in the sides of the tunnel walls.
He flew in Cassie’s wake. She screamed, never stopping or coming up for air. He hated being by himself in this eternal darkness of dirt and grime. He twisted his body to angle himself toward her screams, but he couldn’t see her.
He lowered his head to gain speed. He needed to keep up or else be by himself again, and that scared him more than anything. And then, abruptly, and without preamble, the horror slide came to an end as he struck a hard floor and rolled to a stop.
35
CASSIE WHIMPERED, tugging in each breath like it was her last. They were both alive, puffing and panting from the exertion on the hard cold floor. Neither of them moved a muscle, concentrating only on breathing. After a moment it occurred to Aaron that it was a wonder he could breathe. He began to get to his feet.
“Cassie?” he said.
She didn’t answer him.
Aaron put his inhaler to his lips and breathed in a deep breath.
“Are you okay?” he said.
“I just took a ride on the slide from hell,” Cassie said. “I’m right as rain.”
“I mean, do you have anything broken?” Aaron said.
Cassie sat up and shook her head.
“No,” she said. “You?”
“A couple of twisted ankles,” Aaron said. “A cut on my cheek.”
“I’m not carrying you,” Cassie said.
“Thanks for your concern,” Aaron said.
“Where are we?” Cassie said.
“I don’t know,” Aaron said. “Hell?”
They were in a small space, a malformed cave. It was dry and there were no stalactites. The walls were rough like house bricks, covered with a layer of dust.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Cassie said.
“Where did our parents go?” Aaron said.
“I don’t know,” Cassie said. “I saw them sliding. Ahead of me, I think. But then they were gone.”
“They were definitely sliding down here?” Aaron said.
“I think so,” Cassie said. “They were when I last saw them.”
“Then where are they?” Aaron said.
“How should I know?” Cassie said.
“If they slid down the same place as us there’s no reason to suppose they wouldn’t be here with us,” Aaron said.
“Then they must have gone another way,” Cassie said.
Aaron looked at the walls.
“What did we ever do to deserve to be in a place like this?” he said. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“The earth erupting,” Cassie said. “The trees falling over, the ground swallowing us. You?”
“Same,” Aaron said.
There was a glowing light, faint, like dulled candle flames in the walls. There were dozens of them. When Aaron moved his eyes, more of them emerged, like a starry sky.
“What do you think they are?” Cassie said.
“Bugs, by the look of it,” Aaron said.
He poked one, and it shrank back, emitting no light, and then gradually it began to glow again, little by little, increasing the wattage from its small writhing body.
“Don’t,” Cassie said. “I like the light.”
So did Aaron. He never wanted to be in the darkness again. He would have nightmares about that shaft for as long as he lived.
“Wait,” Cassie said. “Can you hear that?”
Aaron listened.
“Hear what?” he said.
“Sh!” Cassie said.
Aaron listened again, but still couldn’t make anything out.
“I think it’s coming from here,” Cassie said, pressing her ear to a wall that looked identical to the others.
Aaron did likewise.
“I don’t hear anything,” he said.
“Listen,” Cassie said. “Voices.”
“Voices,” Aaron said flatly. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head too hard on the way down?”
Then he heard them. One higher-pitched, the other lower. They were working in tandem, first one, and then the other. A conversation.
“It’s them,” Cassie said. “Our parents.”
“Are you sure?” Aaron said.
Now it was Cassie’s turn to offer a flat stare.
“I’m sure there are lots of people down here with the same cadence of voices as our parents,” she said. “Looks like the kind of place to have a VIP list.”
“All right,” Aaron said. “I was just saying.”
Cassie beat on the wall with her palm.
“Dad!” she shouted. “Dad!”
The glow bugs around them dulled a few watts, like they had hit the dimmer switch, and then gradually rose in brightness again.
“What’re they doing? Cassie said.
“Looks like they’re affected by sound,” Aaron said.
He banged on the wall, and the bugs lowered in wattage again. Then he knelt down and ran his hand over the stones. His fingers slipped through a hole. He lowered his face to it and peered through a small tunnel. He caught sight of dust kicked up in a plume of dirt, and then a pair of ragged boots that he recognized immediately.
“Mom!” Aaron shouted through the hole. “Down here! In the wall!”
The figure moved in front of the wall until her eye flashed at the other end of the tunnel. It filled with tears.
“Aaron!” Zoe said. “My baby! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Aaron said. “How are you and Bryan?”
“We’re fine,” Zoe said. “Is Cassie with you?”
“Yes,” Aaron said.
“How is she?” Zoe said.
“She’s fine,” Aaron said.
“Good,” Zoe said. “We need to get out of here. Any ideas?”
“This wall doesn’t look too thick,” Aaron said. “We could knock through it.”
“How?” Zoe said. “I could try Bryan’s head, but I don’t think even his head is thick enough.”
“Hey!” Bryan said.
“Look around you,” Aaron said. “Maybe there’s something we can use.”
Aaron scrubbed their small cave with his eyes. The glow bug light illuminated lumps on the floor. Most of it was dirt, but other objects jutted out of it too. He approached it and pressed his hands to it. He got a splinter from a branch.
“Cassie,” Aaron said. “Help me with this.”
Together they picked up the branch limb and dragged it over to the wall. They turned back to the mounds of dirt and rolled a large round rock over, placing it beside the wall, and then put the tree branch on top of it. They could hear Bryan and Zoe striking the wall on the other side.
“Now what?” Cassie said.
“The wall is made up of small rocks,” Aaron said. “We should be able to work them loose.”
Cassie looked at the wall and noticed it did indeed consist of piled up rocks, pounded tight under their own weight.
“What if when we work it loose the roof falls on us?” she said.
“Do you care?” Aaron said. “We either die slowly, running out of oxygen, or we get crushed instantly. I know what I’d prefer.”
Cassie shivered.
“Are those the only options?” she said.
Thud, thud, thud! The sound of their parents beating against the wall, sending vibrations through their feet. Grains of dust drifted down on thei
r heads. The wall was not stable.
Aaron jammed one end of the tree limb under a protruding rock and then moved to the other end of the limb.
“We’ll both have to press our weight down on it,” Aaron said.
“On the count of three,” Cassie said. “One, two, three!”
They pressed their weight down, but the rock didn’t budge.
“Bounce,” Aaron said, face turning red.
The tree branch creaked ominously. The rock in the wall shifted ever so slightly. A curtain of dust drifted down. The rock shifted and fell through on the other side. Zoe and Bryan continued to thud against it. There was a crunch, and a pair of rocks shifted on either side of the one they had removed.
There was a shout on the other side of the wall. Aaron couldn’t make out what it was.
“Get back!” he said.
The wall folded like a house of cards.
36
A THICK PLUME of dust rose up like a morning mist, obscuring what remained of the wall. The glow bugs increased their low level of light, fading up like a spotlight. A pair of shadows stepped through the dust toward them, entering their cave.
Zoe rushed forward and embraced Aaron, wrapping her arms around him tight, so tight he could hardly breathe. He didn’t mind. He hugged her back just as hard. Aaron peered out the corner of his eye to see Bryan and Cassie were doing the same. Then Bryan looked up and saw Aaron. He extended his arm to him and Zoe. Aaron and Cassie were squashed between their parents, looking awkwardly at each other. They made no attempt to hug.
They stayed like that for a moment, letting the relief wash over them. Then they broke apart.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Zoe said.
“Technically you did,” Aaron said.
“That was some wild ride, huh?” Cassie said.
She shook her head, and a torrent of dirt billowed like a tiny sandstorm.
“Now what?” Bryan said.
“Where’s your cell?” Zoe said. “Maybe it will work down here.”