by Josi Russell
He dropped to his belly and slid farther in. After the first few minutes, he found himself fighting the urge to go back. The breath of the cave told him that this passage went somewhere, and if he didn’t find out where, he and the surveyors would be at a dead end. If there was any way he could get them out of here, he had to try.
The tunnel constricted more as he crawled. A closing silver fist around him, it was now just inches wider in circumference than he was. His heart began to beat in his throat and he crawled faster. The sides of the narrow passage cut in further, pinning his elbows, forcing him to reach ahead of him to pull himself along. He tried to steady himself with a deep breath, but the breeze he’d felt before had become a rushing wind, catching in his mouth and pulling the air from his lungs.
Gasping, he felt the press of solid rock above and below him and felt his body fill with urgency for oxygen and space and light. He knew the rock’s cold indifference, felt its permanence encircling him. He felt heat growing in his chest and tried desperately to control it. An energy pulse now would give him a second of relief but would also bury him under tons of rubble. He had to calm down. He fought for breath, gasping again and again, clawing ahead and feeling the suffocating weight of the cave and the dark closing around him.
And then his hands reached forward and found nothing. The passage opened out. Ethan crawled desperately forward. His dim shoulder light showed him that the tunnel ended in a smooth, white, narrow band of rock, cutting in and ringing the passage. He clawed until his head was through, then felt panic rising as his shoulders caught in the narrow opening. He shifted his shoulders sideways. His chest was still burning for oxygen, so it took every bit of his resolve to push all the air from his lungs and roll his shoulders in so he could wriggle out of the passage.
The expanse of space around him as he emerged into the chamber made him dizzy. He filled his lungs with convulsive breaths as he rolled onto his back. Throwing his arms wide, he lay on the floor, drinking in the feeling of freedom and the taste of the air.
His body was stiff and cold from being in such close contact with the stone for so long, and the effort of the last few meters had him sweating, so he soon found himself shivering. He got up from the floor carefully and flipped on the Maxlight. A burst of color reflecting back at him from the walls shocked his eyes. A huge drapery formation, cascading across the closest wall, glowed vibrant red in the beam of the flashlight. As he ran the light across it, he saw variation in the color and translucence of the stone. In some places it was white, in others almost purple, in others lovely translucent pink. And radiating from it was midsummer warmth.
Ethan pulled off his glove, then reached up and laid a hand against the curtain. It was warm. He moved to the edge and touched the stone cave wall behind it, then pulled his hand away quickly. In some places it was hot. His cold bones pulled the heat in and he sank to the floor, stretching out on the warm ground. He felt himself relax against the stone, letting his mind wander to Aria and the kids. He wondered if they had searched for him, if they were still searching, or if she had given herself to the inevitability of his death and was starting the long road of processing her grief. He switched off the light and indulged in his thoughts of them for a moment.
The warmth made him sleepy, and against his will he drifted off. It felt like days since he had slept.
***
When Ethan awoke, he was comfortable and warm. He imagined for a moment that he was back home in the blue cottage, but the reality hit him and he sat up anxiously, wondering how long he had slept. He pulled out the map, shuddering as he looked back over the last few days laid out on the page. He sketched the chamber where the rest were waiting for him. “Bleak House” Brynn had called it. He wrote the words above it. He pulled the lines up from it, showing the little incline and the two dead-ends he’d taken, then the ballooning antechamber where he’d found the opening to the tiny tunnel. What to call it? Tunnel of Terror seemed fitting, but a little dark. He thought of the crushing sensation, the constriction of rock around his chest, and scribbled, “Python Pass.”
Re-energized, he headed back for the tunnel. He had to get the others here. It was not only their best way out, but a warm, safe place for them to rest. He wanted them warm. He wanted them to have the kind of sleep he’d just had.
The tightest section of the passage was still grueling for Ethan, but knowing that the tunnel opened up and that there was an escape from it calmed the worst of his fears and he made it out the other side. He navigated back through the cave, checking his marks at every intersection, even if he thought he knew the way. As he approached Bleak House, the chamber where he’d left them, he was surprisingly relieved to see the triangle of faint light shining through the entrance. Slipping through the opening, he came face to face with Brynn, who was peering anxiously out the opening. She beamed a smile at him.
“I thought you were gone for good!”
Ethan smiled back, then peered around her. “How’s Maggie?”
“I’m fine,” the team leader called gruffly from the dim edge of the cavern. “Except they keep making me get up and hobble around.”
Ethan’s mood had improved dramatically. He walked over to where she and the cousins were crowded together on one of the reflective blankets. “They’re keeping you from getting hypothermia. Be nice to them.”
Maggie grunted as he sat down on the blanket with them. “Where have you been?” she asked.
“Exploring. And I’ve found something great.”
“Another crystal obstacle course?” Maggie growled. Ethan looked around for Jade. He wanted them all to hear about it. She lay still on the floor where they’d been sleeping. Someone had covered her with the reflective blanket. Ethan went to her and laid a hand on her shoulder to wake her.
Her shoulder was unyielding. Ethan felt sick as he realized that Jade wouldn’t be waking up. “She’s gone,” he said, his voice breaking. He heard a small cry from Brynn.
He slumped back as Ndaiye rushed to the girl, checking her. “Her head injury was worse than we thought.”
Without warning, Ethan again felt the energy pulse growing in him. The senselessness of it, the waste, fueled his anger and he felt the heat rising. But the tumbled rocks of the tunnel flashed through his mind and he forced himself to look at the rest of the team. They were still alive. They had a chance to get out of here. He couldn’t ruin that by reacting this way. He pressed his palms hard onto the cold stone of the floor and drew in a long, trembling breath.
In the dim glow of the shoulder lights, Ethan looked at the four people huddled around the chamber. It had been over two weeks since they’d seen the sun. Weeks in this tangle of chambers and passages. Weeks—and less—since they’d lost their friends. They were moving toward a dangerous discouragement. He had to give them some hope, had to get them to that warm place to rest and gain strength. But how much to tell them? In the back of his mind, that long dark passage hovered like a stasis nightmare. He knew he was going to have to get them through it.
Ndaiye covered Jade’s face with the blanket.
“What do we do?” Brynn asked, her voice broken and pleading.
And then Ndaiye began to sing. No calming lullaby or bracing anthem this time, but a sorrowful, wailing song that rang through the cavern with an aching sincerity. It was in his old Earth language, and it seemed to carry Jade’s spirit home.
When the last note of the song ended, Ndaiye and Traore harmonized mournfully as they gathered the packs and helped Maggie and Brynn out of the cavern. Ethan ducked out behind them.
Outside, as the last notes of the cousins’ song faded, Ethan saw Maggie. Her shoulders were slumped. She was, as they all were, dangerously weary. She was holding Jade’s pack and she slowly removed everything useful—and the photoflat—and divided it among them.
When she turned her eyes to him, Ethan saw no anger. Her grief was, this time, deep sorrow.
For once, Maggie’s voice was subdued. “What do we do now?”
Ethan gestured to the group and they followed his flashlight into the third tunnel, leaving the girl’s body and the darkness behind them.
The group moved more slowly than usual, each lost in their own thoughts. It took them two hours to reach the antechamber.
“Good news,” he said as brightly as he could. “I found where we need to go. Do you feel it? There’s a breeze.”
He waited.
“I feel it!” Ndaiye’s voice brightened with a ripple of excitement. “I feel it!”
“Me too,” Brynn said, her eyes kindling with a spark of hope.
“It means there’s an opening somewhere. It means air is getting into the cave. I’m hoping we can follow the air and find a way out.”
There were murmurs of approval. Ethan opened his mouth to tell them about Python Pass, then his gaze played across their haggard faces and he stopped. They would know soon enough.
He crossed the chamber and they followed. With some apprehension, Ethan showed them the gap they’d be going through. Brynn looked startled, and Ndaiye shook his head, but it was Traore who feared it most. He backed away. “That doesn’t look big enough for us.” He said, a tremor in his always-steady voice.
Ethan adopted a calm tone. “It’s going to be tight, but I’ve been through, and we can make it.” He put his hands on Traore’s shoulders and looked into the shadows around his eyes. “It’s worth it. On the other side is a thermal chamber. It’s like a sauna in there. Traore, it’s so warm that you think you’re back in your own house in Coriol.” He could see Traore fighting to overcome the fear. “You can get through. It’s our way home.” Ethan said that with more conviction than he felt. In truth, he had no idea if the thermal chamber led anywhere. “I’ll be with you. Just follow me.”
Traore’s gaze shifted between Ethan and the opening. Once. Twice. Ethan saw the moment that Traore’s fear of the passage gave way to his desire to get out. Glancing at the others, Ethan saw that the fear had spread among them. If they didn’t go now, he wouldn’t get them in there.
“Just follow me,” Ethan repeated. He dropped down and slid his pack off his shoulders. “I’m going to be honest with you. It gets tight. There won’t be any extra room. You’re going to have to push your packs in front of you down the passage. Don’t panic. Just focus on going the next arm’s length, then the next. Just keep moving, and hang on until the passage opens up.” He looked at them. “Traore, you follow me. Ndaiye, you come next. Maggie, it’s going to be tough for you with that leg—”
Maggie dismissed him. “I’ll be fine.”
“Brynn, you’ll have the easiest time getting through, because you’re the smallest. You come through after Maggie. Help her if you can.” He faltered, wanting to give them something that would quell their fear in the narrowest part of the passage, something that they could hold onto in the dark. “It will end. It will open up. Keep going. Just trust me.”
Ethan’s own heart was hammering again. He didn’t want to go back in there. He would have done anything to keep from it, but he wanted to go home, and this seemed the most likely way. He pushed his pack in front of him into the opening and crawled inside.
The first few meters were fine. The pack was a new challenge, but he found it gave him something to focus on so he didn’t have to think so much about the way the tunnel was closing around him. He heard the sound of Traore’s breathing behind him, amplified in the small space. The other man was already breathing erratically. Ethan heard the scraping of Traore’s hands and the rasp of his pack against the stone. “You’re doing fine. Keep coming.”
As the passage narrowed, Ethan willed himself to calm down. It was much worse coming this way. Coming out of the sauna room, the passage began narrow and opened with every meter you crawled, but this direction was the opposite. Just when he thought it could get no smaller, the passage constricted further.
Ethan was well into the tightest part when he heard Traore begin to cry out behind him. The deep voice was muffled by the pack and the stone, but Ethan could tell he was panicking.
He crawled faster, calling out, “We’re almost there, Traore. We’ll make it. Keep crawling!” Arms outstretched in front of him, Ethan shoved the pack savagely forward, reached ahead, and pulled his body as far as he could. “Keep coming, Traore!”
Again: push, reach, pull. Push, reach, pull. Ethan’s own fear of the stone was swallowed up in the drive to get Traore out of there. He felt Traore’s pack hit his feet and knew the man was right on his heels.
Traore was wailing, “Get me out! Get me out!”
Finally, Ethan’s pack slid away and his arms broke free of the tunnel. He paused, tucking his shoulders quickly and working himself through the last constricting band of rock. He reached back into the tunnel to feel for Traore’s pack, but grasped only air.
Now that his own body was out of the way, Traore’s voice came to him forcefully. The words had ceased, and the terrified man was now simply screaming. Ethan called to him.
“Traore! Traore! Listen! You’re almost there! I’m out. You’ve got to keep coming.”
But the sounds of crawling had stopped and Traore’s cries got no closer. He was either stuck or paralyzed with fear. Suddenly scared, Ethan hoped it was the latter.
He could hear Ndaiye shouting at his cousin. “Go, man! I want out of here, too! Go, Traore!”
Ethan dove back into the tunnel, crawling until he felt the pack. He grasped it, then attempted to move backwards. It was much more challenging. He found his feet lacked the grip he’d had with his hands. With Traore’s panicked screams landing like blows on his ears, Ethan had to fight to stay calm himself. He wriggled backwards, pulling the pack with him, and made it out again. Tossing the pack aside, he pushed into the tunnel again, crawling as quickly as he could toward the terrified man.
He found Traore thrashing in the tiny space, his hands clawing the sides of the tunnel. He had turned onto his back and his screams filled the small space with deafening volume.
Ethan grabbed for him and shouted, “Ndaiye! Push if you can!”
Locking his hands around Traore’s flailing arms, Ethan pulled, trying to work the two of them backwards. But Traore thrashed and clawed at him, wailing. “No! No! I can’t! I have to go back! He twisted and contorted, trying to turn in the tunnel. Ethan let go and moved back, trying to shout over the man’s cries. He was paralyzed by the knowledge that Traore could wedge his own body in the opening, dooming himself and the three people behind him, leaving Ethan to face the rest of the dark cavern alone. Ethan felt his own panic rising.
And then, clear and bright to his mind came a memory. Polara upon seeing her first yan, the pig-like animals that some people on Minea had domesticated and kept for pets. Polara had been terrified, striking out at the little animal as it approached her. Ethan had pulled her into his arms, stroked her hair, and sang to her an Earth song from his childhood.
Now, in the chaos of the tunnel, Ethan moved forward. Dodging the clawing hands, he reached into the darkness. Traore’s head was less than a meter away. Ethan felt the thick hair, the smooth forehead. He put all the gentleness and serenity he could into his touch. Traore seemed to take some comfort. He stilled slightly, though his shoulders still twisted convulsively and his fingers still scraped the stone above him in panic.
Instinctively, Ethan began to hum. Suddenly, the words of the old lullaby he’d heard them sing in the Teardrop Chamber came back to him and he fought for breath to sing, “Yangu mtoto, mtoto, ndoto.” His voice was small, lost in the shouting from the others in the tunnel and Traore’s fear. He sang a little louder, “itakuwa utulivu mtoto wangu, yangu mtoto, mtoto, ndoto,” and felt Traore still as he sang. Both men lay still, Traore listening and Ethan singing softly.
When the song was over, Ethan slid his hand away from Traore’s hair and found his arm. “Come with me, Traore. We’re gonna get out of here.” Traore convulsed, but Ethan felt him trying to move. “You need to turn back over, onto your stomach, if you
can.” He pulled as Traore slowly righted himself and moved, a painful centimeter at a time, down the tunnel. Ethan heard himself wheezing as he wriggled backwards. The tunnel seemed so much longer as he tried to pull Traore along with him.
When he felt his feet kick free of the tunnel he blurted, “I’m out, Traore! We’re almost there! Keep coming.”
Ethan worked himself out of Python Pass still holding onto Traore’s arms. He reveled in the space and in the leverage he was able to get by bracing against the wall outside the tunnel. He felt Traore slip forward half a meter at a time.
As the light from Ethan’s single shoulder light fell on Traore’s tear-streaked face, Ethan let go of his arms, but placed a reassuring hand on his head. “You’re going to have to wiggle through the end here,” he said firmly. “Just tuck your shoulders in and work your way out. You’re almost here.”
Traore’s desperate scramble through the last obstacle of the tunnel revealed his still unsteady state of mind. Ethan lifted him to his feet and Traore rushed several feet away and collapsed near the curtain formation. Seeing him safe, Ethan turned his attention back to the others, still bound in the dark of the tunnel.
They were coming fast. Ndaiye’s pack hit the cavern floor just seconds after Traore was out, and he struggled out after it.
There was a terrible, quiet pause after Ndaiye had settled in the cavern. Ethan leaned into the tunnel, listening. He heard Maggie’s labored breathing somewhere ahead. “Are you all right?” he called.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “I’m entitled to a rest once in a while, aren’t I?”
Despite the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, Ethan smiled. She was fine. “All right. Do you hear Brynn? Is she okay?”
“She keeps trying to push her pack under my toenails. She must be fine. Now shut up. I can barely breathe enough to move. I’m not gonna lay in here wastin’ my oxygen talkin’ to you.”