He was so fixated on the unearthly cacophony rumbling through the tunnel that he didn’t at first notice what lay a few feet to their right. Jesse craned his head that way, and the yellowish mining light splashed over what had once been Melanie Macomber.
“Don’t look at her,” Sam said.
But it was too late for that.
Jesse was aware that Sam was helping Emma up into the opening, but he could not look away from Melanie’s remains. It looked to Jesse like she had been bludgeoned to death with a meat mallet. Unbidden, his gaze lowered to the girl’s crotch, which glistened with blood and viscera.
“Told you not to look,” Sam said.
Jesse glanced up as Emma made it the rest of the way into the opening. Jesse moved forward to follow her, but Sam barred his way.
“I go first,” Sam said.
Jesse gaped at him, uncomprehending.
Sam stared at him with unconcealed impatience. “Unless you’re strong enough to haul me up there, I’ve gotta go first. With this side I can’t climb too well, but if I step on your back, I can just make it.”
“What about me?” Jesse asked. He hoped it was his imagination, but the sounds echoing from the corridor behind him seemed to be altering. Almost as if the bottleneck were breaking up.
“We’ll figure it out,” Sam said quickly. “Now kneel down, dammit. I don’t want to be standing here talking when those bastards come through.”
Jesse did as he was told, but a black dread had descended over him. He would die in here. After all these near misses, this would be the site of his death. Even now he could hear the sounds from the clogged tunnel morphing into a series of chunking beats, as if the stampede had been reversed and the victims of the deadly tide were being peeled off the pile and flung backward like sodden sand bags.
Jesse swallowed.
He placed his hands on his knees. Sam’s shoe pressed into the small of his back. Jesse’s body threatened to crumple under the load.
Jesse gritted his teeth, willed his arms and legs not to buckle. Bledsoe didn’t look very big, but now Jesse understood just how much power Sam possessed. The guy was built like a powder keg, and if he didn’t climb off soon, they were both going to collapse.
“Hold still, dammit,” Sam grunted.
Behind them the chunking sounds had grown more rapid. Jesse imagined a group of Children back there steam shoveling the mashed corpses out of the way, an assembly line of the beasts passing the dead and wounded back toward the arena. That’s were the Old One likely was, in full resuscitation mode. My God. Did they really have a prayer? What hope was there when your enemy never died, only returned with renewed vigor?
Bledsoe’s feet left Jesse’s back.
Jesse blew out a relieved breath.
“Come on!” a voice from above hissed.
He strained his neck up and saw Emma peering down at him. The salty sweat dripped from his curly hair into his eyes, so that he had to rub them until he could see again.
“Okay,” he said. “Coming.”
But Emma wasn’t listening.
She was eyeing the tunnel behind him.
Jesse turned that way and realized with foreboding how loud the sounds were now, the ghastly excavation of the occluded passage.
They would be upon them in moments.
“Grab on,” someone called.
Jesse tore his eyes off the opening and saw Emma being lowered, arms first, down to him. It wasn’t that far really, only nine or ten feet from the floor to the opening above, yet it seemed an impossible expanse. He could almost reach Emma’s hands now, but once he did there was no guarantee Sam and Charly could drag both of them up.
He stood on tiptoes, his fingertips brushing Emma’s.
“A little farther,” she called back to the others.
Her hands lurched closer, and Jesse strained to grasp them. Their fingers twined, but they couldn’t grip, their skin too slick from the strain.
“Lower,” Emma grunted.
“Can’t go any lower,” Sam answered. Jesse could hear the thinness in his voice. The man was tough, but the combination of dangling Emma down the verge and his earlier injury was close to breaking him.
But Emma’s hands did jerk closer. It was only another inch or so, but it was enough for them to forge a stronger hold.
“Got him!” Emma called.
Jesse felt himself lifted off the ground.
The noises behind them swelled, the bottleneck nearly cleared. He was halfway to the opening. He threw a feverish glance at the tunnel, the mining light exposing a tapestry of swirling shadows.
Jesse heard a dull pop in Emma’s wrist, but she didn’t cry out, didn’t loosen her hold on him. They rose higher, higher.
Then, impossibly, they were up.
Charly scooped up her child, whom she’d laid on the ground. Rubbing her wrist, Emma followed. Sam set off too. Jesse hustled after them until he was abreast of Sam, the tunnel just wide enough for the both of them.
“How far is it?” Jesse asked him.
“Hard to tell,” Sam said with little interest.
“How long have you guys been underground?”
“Hours,” Sam answered, “but I don’t think we traveled all that far.” On the last word, his face stretched in a pained grimace, as though he’d just been given a jolt of electroshock therapy.
“You okay?” Jesse asked, his voice growing hoarse from running.
“Fine,” Sam said. But he didn’t look it.
Jesse asked, “Would you have left us if we’d have gotten to the cavern any later?”
Sam looked at him. “You really want me to answer that?”
Jesse decided he didn’t.
Baby Jake held tight to her chest, Charly handed Emma the Maglite.
As they moved forward, the tunnel opened up into a broad cavern. Because they’d come from the opposite way, Jesse hadn’t noticed how many openings there were in the walls, how many potential turnings there were. He decided that was a good thing if it threw the monsters off their trail. If, however, they got lost down here…
“We take this one,” Charly said, nodding to a tunnel ahead and to the right.
“Are you sure?” Emma asked.
“Trust her,” Sam said, and that was it.
They angled right and started up a gradual rise. Accelerating, the survivors hurried up the hill.
Chapter Four
The next hour crawled by in an unceasing tempest of nerves and uncertainty. Charly’s sense of direction was awe-inspiring. She never hesitated, calling out their movements far before they reached the junctions of tunnels.
Emma was grimly determined as well. Comparably, Jesse knew, she’d been through far more than he had, but you’d never know it to look at her. Beneath the coating of grime and sweat, Emma was prettier than ever. Her resoluteness, her focus, her pragmatic attitude—all these things made her seem like Charly’s younger sister. With the two of them in the lead, Jesse felt confident they would survive.
Sam Bledsoe, however, worried him a great deal.
Most of the time Jesse’s helmet light was focused on the girl’s backs. But whenever Jesse turned to check on Sam, the man’s wan face seemed conflicted or downright tortured, as if he was being eaten alive from within.
By tacit understanding, Charly and Sam were the only two who handled the child, which was fine by Jesse. Holding babies always made Jesse feel inept. He was mortally afraid of dropping one.
Jesse continued on in a state of bleak distress. The tunnels had bizarre acoustics. At one moment the growls and footfalls of the monsters sounded right behind them. At others a preternatural quiet seemed to spread, the only noises their own breathing and the occasional whimper of the baby.
As they moved, numerous scents assailed Jesse. Earlier, the rank odors of the Children—fecal matter and rotten meat—predominated. Several times the ammoniac scent of the Night Flyers made his nostrils tingle. Yet increasingly it was the delirious smell of water that made i
ts way toward them. Though he’d scarcely said a word since they’d escaped the arena, Sam did mention an underground river, saying when they reached it they’d be close to the surface. Then his face clouded and he said no more, no matter how hard Jesse pressed him on the matter.
After a time the tunnel became so narrow that it was impossible to run or even jog any longer, and they settled for progressing through the labyrinth at a steady walk. The corridor they were traveling narrowed so much that at times they had to move sideways.
“How far?” Emma asked, giving voice to the question perpetually on Jesse’s mind.
When Sam didn’t respond, only continued sidestepping along behind Jesse, Charly said, “We’re over halfway there…”
“But what?” Emma asked.
Sighing, Charly said, “There’re some problems up ahead.”
“What problems?”
Charly didn’t answer, continued to sidle along. A minute or two later, the tunnel opened up, and Charly raised her shirt to nurse the baby. Jesse turned away and regarded the wall.
“You said there were other problems,” Emma prompted.
Charly glanced at Sam. “There’s the river to cross.”
“We’re not crossing it,” Sam said through clenched teeth.
Charly unlatched Jake, frowned at Sam. “But if we don’t cross—”
“We’re following it out,” Sam said without looking up. “It’s gotta come from somewhere, right?”
Emma seemed about to ask another question, but something made her freeze, open-lipped and staring.
A fluttering noise, somewhere ahead of them.
Like vast wings beating the air.
“Turn off your lights,” Sam said.
Emma twisted off the Maglite. Jesse reached up and clicked off the mining helmet.
The sounds drew closer, slithery and batlike.
In the darkness, Jesse did his best not to make noise, but every time he exhaled, his dry throat rasped like cornhusks in a breeze. A hand slid into his, squeezed. He squeezed Emma’s hand back but felt no better.
The Night Flyer—if that’s what it was—seemed to pause up ahead. Jesse had no idea how far away it was, but it sounded way too close. He was painfully aware of being unarmed.
The noise slithered again, moving away from them this time. A sharp pain started in Jesse’s chest, but he didn’t dare exhale.
When the slithering noises ceased entirely, he blew out a shuddering breath.
“Let’s get moving,” Sam said.
So when are you going to tell her? Dad’s voice asked.
I’m not, Sam answered him.
You’re chickening out?
Wouldn’t you?
Probably, his dad allowed, but that doesn’t mean it’s right.
None of this is right, Dad. Those things aren’t right.
Can’t argue with you there.
Baby Jake crooked in one arm, Sam lugged his aching body over the rim of the slide. The clamor was like a wrecking ball in his skull. He could feel his sanity splintering, the pain it brought on worse than any migraine he’d ever had.
SOON, SAMUEL. SOON. I WILL FINISH YOU SOON.
Sam handed Charly her baby. Jesse’s mining helmet rose jerkily over the rim of the slide and splashed its amber glow over Charly as she bared a breast and guided it into Jake’s rooting mouth. Sam hardly noticed. He longed to curl up like a pill bug and wail, to dash his brains out on this grimy cave floor. But the others needed help up, and if they were going to get out of here, Sam couldn’t succumb to hopelessness now.
YES YOU CAN. YOU CAN AND YOU WILL. I WILL TASTE YOUR FLESH, I WILL HAVE YOUR WOMAN, I WILL DRINK OF THE CHILD’S BLOOD.
Sam jerked Jesse roughly over and then hoisted Emma up to safety. Charly was already done feeding Jake and was waiting impatiently for them to move on, and though Sam knew she was right to be in a hurry, he didn’t know how much more of this his mind could take.
But he too rose and dusted himself off. Without the extra twenty pounds or whatever it was Jake weighed, Sam felt a good deal lighter. It didn’t compensate for the maniacal clanging in his skull, but it helped a little.
He thought of asking Emma for the buck knife back, but she didn’t offer, and he didn’t have the energy to bother her. Getting Charly’s baby up that last hill might just have been his last hurrah. But at least he’d done that.
They reached the river, the place where he’d first seen a white beast. Sam held Jake while Charly joined the others in kneeling before the water and drinking from cupped hands. Charly finished after only a few moments—he was sure she wanted more water but was just being considerate of Sam’s thirst—and relieved him of baby Jake. Sam lay down on his belly and plunged his face in the water. He swallowed huge gulps of the turbid stuff, unmindful of how sick he might become or how foul the water tasted. Suddenly sick to his stomach, he brought his face out of the water and hung there panting.
Though tiny droplets still sprayed his face, the thunder of the water had diminished, which told him plainly that the deluge aboveground was over. For all he knew, it might have ended just after he and Charly had ventured inside the cave.
God, that felt like an age ago. Could it really have been only a matter of hours? If his internal clock was right—and Sam found it almost always was, give or take a few minutes—it was now approaching eleven o’clock. That could help them, he thought. The darker it was outside, the better. Though the creatures could see better in the dark than humans could, their night vision didn’t seem to be faultless. Take the creature that had passed close by them earlier…
Sam realized everyone was staring at him.
“Lost in my thoughts,” he said and mustered what he knew was a sorry excuse for a grin.
Charly’s expression was concerned. “I asked if you thought we’d be able to make it out that way.” She nodded upstream.
Sam started moving. “The water isn’t as turbulent as it was. It’s still high—even if the rain stopped completely, it’ll take time for it all to drain down here—but I’m thinking we’ll be able to…” He let the thought hang as he approached the arch through which the river entered the vast cavern.
“Gimme the Maglite a minute,” he said to Emma. He trained it on the water where it met the cave wall on their side of the river. “Yep,” he said, studying the ledge of sand and rock. “It’s not ideal, but if we’re careful, we should be able to get out that way.”
“How far is it?” Emma asked.
“No idea,” Sam said. “We didn’t take this route in.”
“Where did you enter?”
Sam gestured vaguely across the river, in the direction of the hole from which they’d dropped before battling the first creature they’d encountered, the one who’d devoured a good portion of poor Larry Robertson. Thinking of the sheriff’s mutilated body, Sam could not suppress a shiver.
“Better get started,” Sam said and promptly slipped, one work boot skimming the surface of the water. Sam settled back against the wall. He cast a brief glance down at the ledge. It was less than a foot wide in some places. The toes of his boots would poke out over the churning river.
“You sure about this?” Charly asked him.
“I’m not sure about anything.”
She scrutinized him in the dimness.
“Gimme Jake,” he said.
But she didn’t.
“Come on,” he said. “Those things aren’t going to quit hunting us. All we know, they could be closing in right now.”
“Sam…”
“Give him to me,” Sam said more roughly than he’d intended.
“I’ve got him,” Charly said.
Sam watched her for a long moment, saw she wasn’t going to relent. Reluctantly, he began to sidle along the slick ledge.
And one by one, the others followed.
Chapter Five
The tunnel ate its way into the darkness far longer than he’d anticipated, so that Sam began to wonder whether they’d made a mis
take. True, they’d been presented with no other viable options, but the situation was becoming bleak enough for Sam to second-guess himself. Maybe there had been another way out, one they’d missed.
And if unicorns were real, his dad spoke up, you could ride one out of here.
Go to hell, Dad.
You’d’ve never said that to me when I was alive.
Well, you aren’t.
You were never a quitter, son.
Who’s quitting?
Sounds like you are.
A wave of dizziness swept over him. He bit the inside of his mouth to fend off unconsciousness. The ashen stars in his mind bloomed, spread. The glow from the Maglite he aimed at the ledge wavered.
Charly said, “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” he said.
I’m not quitting, either, he thought and continued on.
After a few more steps the ledge widened slightly. Another minute, and they had a three-foot walkway to travel on.
IT WON’T MATTER, the Old One told him. I’LL HAVE YOU IN THE END.
Not quitting, Sam told himself. Getting them out of this cave. Getting them away from here.
THERE’S NO ESCAPE, SAMUEL. YOU KNOW THAT.
“Name’s not Samuel,” he muttered. “Not even my teachers called me that.”
FAILED YOUR FAMILY. YOU’LL FAIL THESE PEOPLE TOO.
“Sam?” Charly asked. “Who are you talking to?”
Getting you out of here, Sam thought.
“How much farther?” Jesse called from behind.
Sam scowled, was about to tell the kid he had no idea how much farther, what did he look like, a human GPS?
But the words died in his throat.
Ahead, he could see the river. Not just the infrequent glimmers cast by the Maglite and the mining helmet, but the kind of glow made by the moon, by the honest-to-goodness stars. He realized there was a mild stirring of breeze on the flesh of his cheeks. My God, had they found their way out?
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