by Arby Robbins
“It’s on the other side of the highway, right?” asked Conroe.
“Yeah, and we’re getting close.” He was certain that the cruiser had been reported stolen as soon as they drove away in it, so he was driving conservatively, trying not to attract attention.
“There it is,” he said. “I just need to take this exit, U-turn at the light, and we’re home free.”
As soon as he had cleared the exit ramp, Crane spotted a police cruiser sitting at a stop sign on a side street. Its lights and siren came alive.
Crane punched the accelerator and the car surged.
Conroe looked back at the whirling lights. “We’ve got to make it to that parking lot, or we’re gonna be stuck here forever.”
Crane jammed the pedal to the floor, launching the car like a rocket, screeching the tires all the way around the U-turn. He veered to the outside lane and turned into the empty parking lot, reminding himself and Conroe, “Third row, fifth slot on the left.” He drove up next to the target slot and slammed on the brakes.
They jumped out of the car and stood between the lines of the parking slot, hoping they were inside the five-foot return perimeter.
“Take us, Geneva. Now!” Conroe yelled.
The cop drove up and jumped out of his cruiser.
Conroe disappeared.
But Crane was still standing there.
The cop pointed his gun at Crane as he walked toward him. “Hold it right there. Do not move.”
Crane stepped over to where Conroe had been standing.
“I said don’t move! I will blow your head off, boy!”
“Sorry,” Crane said, holding his hands in the air. “Geneva?”
“And shut up!”
Crane vanished.
53
Everything was black.
But Crane knew where he was: on the bridge. “Conroe?”
“Oh, Crane, I was afraid you weren’t gonna make it.”
She was right in front of him on the bridge, where she had been every time they went into transport mode. He reached out, stepped in, and put his arms around her.
The blackness morphed into a thick fog.
“Let’s go.” She ran away from him, across the bridge.
He ran after her, unable to see anything but fog, using the handrails for guidance.
They reached the other side before the bridge started to crumble.
“That was our best yet,” he said, looking back at the bridge. The fog was beginning to clear, and the bridge was partially visible.
It creaked and cracked and broke apart, falling piece by piece into the chasm.
“Oh, no,” Conroe moaned.
“What?” He turned around to see what she was looking at. There was no entrance into the Dream Tunnel—they were standing in front of a solid rock wall. “Where’s the tunnel?”
Conroe turned around. “Over there.” She pointed to the other side.
The fog had cleared.
“We’re on the wrong side,” he said. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know, but we’ve got to get over there somehow…or we’re dead.”
“There’s got to be some other way to get there.” He looked around. “Maybe there’s a tree branch or something we can use.”
“I don’t see anything.”
“Well, we can’t climb down to the bottom and walk across,” he said, peering into the blackness below. “But…it may be hundreds of feet deep.”
Conroe looked up. The fog that had always hung over the bridge while they were crossing it was now beginning to dissipate. “What is that up there?”
“Looks like a rope,” he replied.
A thick rope extended from one side to the other.
“That should work,” she said. “We can climb across it.”
“But how are we gonna get up there? The rock is too smooth. There’s not much to grab on to.”
“Remember how you got me out of that hole in the tunnel last time?” she asked. “We could do something like that. I think if you climb up on my shoulders, you’ll be able to reach the rope. Then you can hang from it while I climb up you.”
“Yeah, that just might work,” he agreed.
“You stand here.” She positioned Crane with his back against the rock wall. “As you’re going up, you can balance yourself against the wall.” She put her hands together, interlocking her fingers to give Crane a foothold.
“My shoes are gonna hurt your hands and your shoulders,” he said. “Do you want me to take them off?”
“No, because there’s no way you can make it through the tunnel barefoot.”
“Right.” He placed his right foot in her hands and gently shifted all of his weight to it as he lifted his left foot to her shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweetie—I know this hurts.”
“It’s okay—just keep your balance.”
He lifted his right foot from her hands and placed it on her shoulder, balancing himself with his upper back against the wall.
“Can you reach it?” she asked.
His fingertips were four inches from the rope. “No. It’s just too high.”
“Can you jump up to it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Okay. Let’s do this: I’ll count to three. Bend your knees on counts one and two, and when I say ‘three,’ then you jump up and grab the rope.”
“Got it,” he said.
“Okay, here we go. One…”
Crane and Conroe both bent their knees slightly.
“Two…”
They both bent their knees farther. Crane nearly lost his balance but quickly regained it.
“Three!”
They jumped up, simultaneously.
Crane latched onto the rope with one hand and then the other.
Conroe sat down on the stone pathway.
“I made it, sweetie! It worked! Conroe?”
She whimpered.
“Sweetie? Are you okay? It sounds like you’re crying?”
“My shoulders and my back hurt—but I’ll be okay,” she answered, getting to her feet.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I’m coming up.” She grabbed onto the bottom of his pant legs and then worked her way up by grabbing handfuls of material.
“I’m losing my pants,” he said.
“Just a little farther and…”
The waist of his jeans slipped down below his hips.
Conroe nearly lost her grip. “No!”
Crane wrapped his legs around her and locked her in place. “Are you okay?”
“I can’t reach your shoulders,” she said.
“I’m gonna help you.”
“No! Hold onto the rope with both hands.”
“It’s the only way. Get ready—it’s got to be fast,” he said.
“Okay. Go.”
He let go of the rope with his left hand, and offered his forearm to her.
She took hold of it.
Releasing his leg lock around her torso, he jerked his forearm upward.
She quickly transferred her hands from his forearm to his shoulders.
He reached back up to the rope and was barely able to get his finger around it. “Hurry, baby. Please hurry.”
She planted her feet on top of his hipbones and jumped for the rope.
Crane gasped, partly from the pain but mostly from knowing that if she missed the rope, there was nothing he could do to save her.
But she didn’t miss it. She caught it with both hands.
“Thank God!” he yelled, his voice echoing.
They hung nose to nose, sweat pouring down their faces.
“We’re both gonna need a long, hot bath when we get back.”
He laughed.
She turned herself around on the rope to face the other direction. “Okay, let’s do it.” She began to work her way across the rope, hand over hand.
Crane followed her. “I hope there’s not a time limit on this rope.”
“What do you mean?”<
br />
“The bridge had a time limit. It always started falling apart after so many seconds.”
“Good point,” she said, increasing her speed.
“What’s that smell? It’s like something’s burning.”
Conroe looked back. “It’s the rope, behind us!”
They sped up to a frantic pace.
The rope burned through and detached behind them, turning it into a Tarzan vine.
“Hang on!” he shouted as they swung toward the rock wall.
Conroe slammed into the wall. Crane slammed into her legs.
“You can let go,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m standing on the ground.”
She released the rope, and he set her down.
Conroe turned and hugged him as they caught their breath.
“We’d better get into the tunnel,” he said. “And maybe we can use this burning rope for light.”
“But the other end is still attached to the rock.” She yanked on it, and the end of the rope slipped out of the rock and fell at their feet.
They looked at each other in horror.
“Sure glad that didn’t happen a minute ago,” he said.
They went into the Dream Tunnel. Crane carried the bundled rope, holding up the burning end like a torch.
“The other end of the tunnel is already open,” she yelled. “Run!”
But before they had gone ten feet, the opening closed.
They turned around. The opening they entered from had also closed.
“Now what are we gonna do?” he asked. “It not even a tunnel anymore. It’s just a cave, and we’re trapped in here.”
“Spiders!” she screamed, pointing.
“Spiders? Those things are huge! They look like eight-legged rats!” Crane dropped the excess rope at his feet, holding onto the torch end. He stepped toward the spiders, waving it at them.
The spiders backed away.
“Looks like they’re afraid of the fire, so as long as—”
He tripped and nearly fell into a large hole, losing his grip on the rope, dropping the torch end into the hole. He reached down to pick up the other end of the rope, and fire exploded from the hole, sending him and Conroe backward. A blue blaze shot up to the ceiling of the cave and then settled down to a six-foot flame, illuminating the entire cave. It was as though there were a broken gas line at the bottom of the hole.
“Look at all the spiders,” Conroe gaped. “There must be hundreds of them.”
Crane pointed. “I guess those were too close to the hole and got scorched.”
Two spiders limped away from the fire hole, toward the wall. A group of their peers surrounded them and then pounced, ripping them to shreds.
Conroe said, “I’m afraid that’s what is gonna happen to us if the fire goes out.”
“I don’t get it. Why are things so different this time? We came in backwards on the bridge, the rope caught on fire for no apparent reason, and now the tunnel closes off too soon. And look at it—it’s so small compared to before. It’s just a round cave with no exits.”
“It’s got to be Frederick. He must have figured out how to reprogram his time travel computer.”
“You know about programming computers?”
“No, but Geneva does. She’s been studying the manual.”
“I didn’t know it came with a manual,” he said. “But if Geneva knows how to program it, maybe she can help us get out of here.” Crane looked around at the spider-covered walls.
Conroe gazed up toward the ceiling. “Geneva, you’re our only hope. But I know you can do it.”
54
Geneva and Will sat huddled together on a log, trying to keep each other warm. They stared at the time travel computer, hoping that the bright screen would keep the wild animals away.
“At least they’re safe for now,” Geneva said.
“Until the fire goes out,” Will added, “or until they run out of oxygen.”
“Oh my, I hadn’t thought of that. Okay, back to the code.” She opened the source code window. “I’ve just got to get them out of the cave—any way I can. Frederick has changed the code here, and I’m not sure how to fix it. But maybe there’s another way out. I just don’t want to make things worse.”
“Yeah, whatever you do, don’t put out the fire. Those spiders…”
“I know.”
55
The rat spiders formed a circle around Conroe and Crane, whose only protection was the heat of the fire. The carnivorous little beasts seemed to fear it. Or perhaps they were simply waiting until Conroe and Crane were toasted to delicious perfection.
“If we don’t get out of this alive…I’m sorry,” Conroe said.
“I was going to die anyway, if you hadn’t come for me,” Crane replied. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. You risked your life for me. Tonight you would have been crowned Queen of Ampla.”
“If I had never seen you, never watched you and heard you sing your love songs…but once I did, I knew you were the one. I had to have you.”
“You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” he said.
“Mother tells me that every day.”
Crane smiled. “It’s one of the things I love about you. Hey—we never had our honeymoon.”
Conroe leaned in and kissed him.
He put his arms around her. “I can’t believe I just met you a week ago. It seems like I’ve known you for a long, long time.”
“I have a confession.”
“Another one?” he asked.
“Yeah. About a year ago, while you were living in that foster home, I came into your bedroom one night.”
“What?”
“I have been observing you on the time travel computer at different ages in your life—like when you were four and your parents died—that was so sad, and then when you were in that abusive foster home when you were twelve. Then they sent you back to the orphanage. After that you were in several other foster homes.”
“You’re kidding? You saw all that stuff?”
“Yeah, so I finally just had to see you up close—in person. You were fifteen, I think. I stood over you, watching you sleep, and then—I couldn’t resist—I leaned in and kissed you, and you woke up, so I left.”
“Oh, my gosh…you’re the girl in my song, ‘Dream Girl.’”
“That song was about me?” She grinned.
“Yes. I had this amazing dream, and it felt so real—especially the kiss. And you were my Dream Girl, the perfect girl of my dreams. No wonder I thought I’d seen you somewhere. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”
“So you waited until after we were married?”
They laughed.
“I love you, baby,” she said.
They kissed as though it would be their last.
Something sizzled.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Something in the fire, I think.”
It happened again. And again.
“It’s water—dripping from the ceiling,” she said, pointing.
“And it keeps dripping faster.”
A small spot on the ceiling became increasingly translucent.
Conroe was perplexed. “What’s happening up there?”
“Looks like it’s…melting.”
“How could that be? The cave is rock.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “How do we know that? If the ceiling keeps melting, maybe we’ll be able to get out that way.”
The dripping accelerated into a steady flow. The spot on the ceiling grew larger and lighter in color. The stream of water continued to increase in diameter and was beginning to dampen the fire.
“I really think it’s gonna open up for us,” he said. “Maybe Geneva is doing this.”
“Or it could still be Frederick’s programming. Look at the spiders.”
As the fire weakened, the rat spiders inched closer.
“Do you think
Frederick’s mother has been helping him?”
“The way Geneva helps me?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Doesn’t somebody have to be sitting at the time travel computer to push some keys and bring you back?”
“Not if you use the auto-return mode. You can set a specific day and time that you want to go back.”
“Oh.”
“But I couldn’t do that since I wasn’t sure exactly when I would want to go back—especially for the times I was bringing you with me.”
“Oh, right.” He looked up. “We may soon have an escape route if we can figure out a way to reach it before…the spiders get to us.”
“This does sound like Frederick’s handiwork.”
A chunk of ice fell out of the large white spot on the ceiling, and water began to gush into the fire hole and all over the floor. The spiders ran away from the water, climbing up the walls to escape the flood.
“They’re afraid of the water,” Crane said. “I’ll bet they can’t swim with those big fat bodies and those skinny legs. Do you know how to dog paddle?”
“Yes. But I’m not sure how long I can do it. I guess our only hope is that if the water rises fast enough and we can stay afloat, we’ll eventually reach the opening.”
The fire went out as the water roared down from the opening in the ceiling. They stepped back. Soon they were waist deep in water.
When the water level reached Conroe’s chin, they both began to dog paddle.
The rat spiders climbed farther up the walls, and some of them began to lose their grip and fall into the water.
Crane had been correct about the spiders not being good swimmers. But he quickly realized that they were good floaters. Their skinny little legs must have been working like crazy under water, as they slowly moved toward Conroe and Crane.
One of them got within three feet of Crane and he splashed water at it, which pushed it back a couple of feet. It continued its trajectory toward him.
Conroe swatted and kicked at three of the little devils.
More and more spiders dropped into the rising water, until Conroe and Crane were surrounded by them.
Crane motioned for Conroe to move closer to the gushing water. If they got too close, it might pull them under, but at just the right proximity, perhaps it would keep the spiders away. It would at least restrict them to one side.