by Hunter, Ryan
“Me neither,” he said. “And I don’t want anything bad happening to you either.”
His free hand trailed up my arm until it met with my shoulder, his fingertips tingling as they moved from my collarbone up my neck, straying to my cheek. His fingers wove around my jaw, entangling in my hair. I looked up. His eyes were slits, his mouth only barely parted. My heart thumped, and I allowed him to pull me closer, just enough to feel his breath on my lips when rotors thumped in the distance.
“They’re coming, T,” I whispered.
He held me there, so close we could feel each other’s pounding hearts. “They’ll wait until morning to search the settlement.”
I moved away so I could see his eyes and asked, “How do you know?”
“The men were talking while you bathed. The Alliance comes by about once a month, searches the buildings, takes some of the fruit … then they leave. As long as the people here are cooperative, nobody get s hurt.”
As long as they’re cooperative? I thought of Summer and her unborn baby. If they laid a hand on her … “What if they’re not cooperative?”
He pulled away, sat and wrapped his arms around his knees. “They’ve never killed anyone.”
I sat beside him. “Is that supposed to comfort me?”
“I don’t know what it’s supposed to make you feel,” he mumbled. He looked away where a spotlight from the helicopter lit the cliff-side several miles away. It looked further away than I’d imagined, and I hoped we’d put enough distance in to at least make them wonder where we ‘d gone.
“They’ll know,” I said.
He nodded.
“I hope they don’t hurt any of these people.”
T turned toward me, his face taking on a new energy. “There’s something we can do.”
“What?”
He pulled a gun from his waistband and set it on the ground between us. “I stole this off of one of the officers, the one I cut … I can cause a distraction, buy us some time and hopefully save these people some grief.”
My mouth went dry as I looked down at the gun, thought about all the ways he could use it as a distraction. Did he even know how to use it?
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“I’m an Olympic athlete,” he said. “I’m fast.”
I could testify to that.
He pointed toward the helicopter, to the cliff wall on the opposite side of the copter. “If I run for it, I can get on the other side of that helicopter before they stop searching for us tonight. I’ll take a shot at them, draw their attention—”
“Bad plan,” I cut in. “They’ll have bigger guns on that thing. They’ll kill you.”
“It’s dark,” he said. “And you’ve never actually seen me run.”
“You’ve been running for days.”
He shook his head. “Not really.”
“You’ve hardly been eating.”
“I got filled today.”
“Listen to me, T. You’re all I’ve got left. Don’t do anything stupid.”
T picked up the gun, placed it back in his waistband and stood. “Staying here until morning would be stupid.”
“Then what will you do? Running right back here isn’t going to help.”
He pulled me up and gathered our blankets. Then he motioned for me to stay still while he jogged to the fruit trees to retrieve a few apples. “I’ll need something for recovery afterward.” He dropped them in the backpack and handed the pack off to me.
“I don’t think we should split up,” I whispered, our feet sounding loud in the now quiet streets.
“We don’t have much choice, not if we’re going to survive,” he said. “And especially not if we’re going to keep these people safe.”
We’d reached the last of the buildings, the ground ahead of us a jumble of shadows and silhouettes, like stepping into another world. He pointed toward a bulging hillside to our left, several miles into the dark. “There’s an old mineshaft in that hillside. It goes deep and it’s dark, but it will eventually emerge high in the hills. Find it. Follow the tunnels and when you get to the top, walk opposite the North Star. I need you to go directly south.”
I nodded, fear creeping into the back of my throat and making it hard to swallow. I’d be hidden while T ran for his life from a helicopter capable of shooting him into oblivion in seconds.
“I’ll find you,” he said.
I took his hand. “Not good enough. Where? Where will you find me? We have to establish a location.”
“We don’t have time,” he said, pulling his hand away and taking me into his arms. “I know where that tunnel comes out. As long as you’re walking south, I can find you. Keep a straight line, but don’t stay near the mineshaft. They’ll be checking areas like that.”
T pulled back, yanked his shirt over his head and handed it to me, then spun and jogged away.
I watched him until he disappeared, his navy shorts blending into the night, his bare back glistening just a little longer. I pulled off the backpack, folded his shirt and slipped it inside. But before I slung it onto my back, I unzipped the pouch where T had stuffed the notebooks and map. He’d opened one of the books to the page with the interpretations, had marked the first checkpoint with a star drawn in pencil—a pencil he must have borrowed while I bathed.
Next to the star, he’d written a note, but the clouds over the moon obscured the light too much to make it out. I slipped them back into the pack and pushed my arms through the straps.
I no longer heard his footsteps. I no longer saw his back.
I’d never been so alone.
CHAPTER 28
There was no trail to the mineshaft, or at least I didn’t find one until I got within five feet of its entrance. By then I’d already tripped over a dozen stones and kicked at least one cactus, my toes still stinging from the barbs I’d torn free. I eased onto the trail, a thin, spindly thing that barely cut through the sage and stones that had been hauled from the deep recesses of the hillside.
The shaft gaped open as I neared, a sandy hole supported by rotten beams of wood. One side of the support structure had already collapsed, proving its construction could not stand the test of time. I braced myself on one of the support beams and pulled my shoe off, peeled away my sock and cringed as another barb ripped free of my big toe. The stinging that replaced it hurt worse than the barb, and I wondered if I should just leave the others intact. I reached down, found half a dozen more imbedded into my other toes and made them bleed as I ripped out the rest of the cactus. I felt my sock for anything sharp before pulling it back over my foot, my toes on fire.
I picked up my shoe and paused, scanning the horizon for any signs of movement. Other than the swaying of a couple of junipers, the desert lay still. Further out, the rotors beat faintly, almost imperceptible, and I prayed T had made it across the valley. There’d been no gunshots, at least that I’d heard, and I was sure they’d be noticeable even over the thumping of the blades. How long had I taken to get here anyway? I assumed at least an hour. Had that given T time to make it to the other side, where he’d create his distraction? He said he was fast but so much time had passed … maybe the gun didn’t fire as loud as I imagined. Maybe the boom had gotten lost in the distance.
I couldn’t see the searchlight from my position, which meant they wouldn’t see me, and I wanted to keep it that way. I jerked my shoe on, wiggled my toes into place and tied the laces. Ducking under the beams, I entered blackness like I’d never imagined and I stopped, my hands reaching out to touch the cool walls and spider webs.
A chill wind blew inside the shaft and goose bumps prickled across my skin. I wrapped my arms around my torso and took a deep breath.
How are you T? I wondered.
I ducked back out into the moonlight, one more searching gaze along the horizon before I plunged ahead. Please, T, be safe …
I ducked back inside as a dozen rounds erupted from the helicopter to the valley floor below. I fell back, into the woode
n beam. The light now flickered across the ground miles away—right to left. They wouldn’t stop until they found him, and what would I do without him?
Another burst of gunfire scattered across the valley, and I jumped, rushing back into the tunnel. I’d go like he said, and I’d wait for him, somewhere to the south. That’s where he’d find me. I just had to believe it.
CHAPTER 29
I’d never been inside a mine before, and even as I walked deeper into the recesses, I realized I’d probably never see one either. I did know that the ground contained divots and rises, the walls consisted of jagged stones designed to pulverize intruders and the ceiling did not like the idea of staying contained behind whatever wood remained to hold it in place. I knew this because the earth groaned to break free while the wood splintered and creaked as if complying. I wanted a light, any kind of light … anything to help me see what lie ahead, what beckoned in the dark.
I tried walking through the middle of the tunnel, but couldn’t tell which direction to travel and ran into the wall. It seemed safer to have that wall to guide me so I trailed my fingers along it as I moved deeper into the moaning abyss. Each step echoed with creaking, each crack precluded clattering. I rushed my steps to stay ahead of a collapse that would make this space my coffin and tried to push out the taste of dust raised in the battle for support versus destruction.
Even as I hurried, I cringed at what crept along the walls, what critters I’d displace while running my hands through their homes. The webs grew thick. The sticky and stringy webs clung to my wrists, fingers and forearms, the tingling of real or imagined spiders creeping up my arms and along my spine. I tried to shake off the feeling when I plowed through another web, this time the strands stretching from one side of the mine to the other so as to leave a film across my entire forehead. I scraped it away and smashed a spider attempting to hide in my hair before I squatted down, pulled my hair over my shoulder and braided it. I tied it off with a strip I ripped from the hem of my shirt and flung the braid over my back.
I didn’t dare breathe through my mouth, afraid something may crawl into it, and the idea of eating a living creature made me just as nauseous as the creaking above. I hesitated. Would I really be safer sneaking through this cavern or should I escape now and hike around? With gunshots, the helicopter would stay on the other side of the valley, wouldn’t it? Maybe tonight. But what about tomorrow? Clambering up shale and dirt would leave a trail I couldn’t hope to hide. From the air tomorrow, it would be as good as leaving a note telling them where to find me.
Still, I looked back. I could no longer see that scab of blue where the mine opened to the valley floor. I could see only black in every direction and knew that to take my hand from the wall now would be suicide. I could wander in this tunnel until I died if I got disoriented. I blinked to rehydrate my eyes and mentally focused on the trail ahead.
Something scurried to my right, and I flinched, afraid to jump to the side or back up because I couldn’t tell where the greatest threat waited. It squeaked and I pushed forward, imagining the critter scrambling over my toes—my stinging, aching toes—or maybe even crawling up my pant leg.
Stop it, Brynn, I chastised. I couldn’t freak myself out. Dwelling on that rat in the corner wouldn’t help any more than the images I’d finally shut out of T being gunned down by the man in that helicopter.
I moaned and it echoed down the corridor, the hair on my arms rising higher, moving up my back, making my neck tingle.
I thought of the Pledge of Citizenship, the new verses I’d strung together but I forgot most of the words. Instead I recited poetry, the poems I’d written on my floor and whatever scraps I’d found, the ones the Alliance had stolen after they murdered my dad.
My chills turned to anger and I picked up my pace, my fingers gouging into the rough walls, breaking my nails backward into the quick.
Tears sprang to my eyes, and I shoved two fingers into my mouth, the raw skin below my nails protesting. Still I continued, my teeth rattling as I stepped into a gorge, the drop just far enough to make my head ring. There has to be another way, I thought as I pulled myself over the lip of the gorge, back onto the pathway to T.
I took a deep breath and recited,
I commit my life and soul to the destruction of One United,
To the ideals and security that the Freemen are about to make possible …
One step, two … the ground sloped upward—
I commit my life …
I still had opportunity to live, to do something great.
And soul …
I paused. If there was no God, why did we have souls? The wall veered to the left—and the right. I moved left, the ground level, smooth. To the right, the ground grew rockier, the slope increasing upward. I wanted to go left to avoid the rocks and jarring but moving right would take me to the exit as T had described it. I turned right and staggered through the littered stones.
The Alliance had written the pledge—at least the parts I hadn’t changed—so why had they said soul?
Maybe they knew about God. Maybe they considered themselves gods—but making themselves gods didn’t explain souls …
I moved faster now, the darkness more familiar, less frightening. “It’s not the darkness,” I whispered as I’d done as a child. “It’s the things in the darkness to fear. Right now, I’m the only thing in this darkness that matters.”
Rocks clattered as I took each step, my shoes making little patting sounds that reverberated down through the tunnels. Another web coated my face and I felt the furry feet of a spider scramble down my shirt, between my breasts. I slapped my chest and goo spurted. I used my hem to wipe the dead critter away and my sleeves to clean my face.
“There’s nothing to fear—”
The ground vanished with my next step. My left foot plunged into darkness, taking my body with it until my right shin slammed on a metal grate. I clung to the grate, breathing, waiting for the shaking to ease when the rocks I’d dislodged made a tiny plink hundreds of feet below.
“No, no, no,” I pleaded. I wrapped my hands around the metal bars that formed the grate and tried to stand but the grate teetered toward me, toward the gap between the metal and the floor I’d lost.
I yelped.
I’d made it past killer spiders, a rat, and pitch black—I would not fall into that hole now.
I leaned forward, offsetting my weight and keeping the grate steady as I lifted my left leg up and onto the metal. I waited, crouched atop the deadly teeter-totter as I fanned my hands out slowly, searching for solid ground, walls, anything.
The tunnel had expanded here leaving no walls within my reach. Going back made the grate tip so I could only move forward. I crawled now, hands gripping the metals bars in case it flipped so I could at least dangle a while and prolong my death plunge if it came to it. My knees throbbed each time I balanced them on the bars to move my hands forward. Sweat slickened the metal, and I took turns wiping first one palm then the other on my jeans.
I had to concentrate. I picked up the pledge again,
The ideals and security …
“Ha,” I said, flinching when I realized I’d spoken aloud. The security One United offered was less secure than this grate and that was pretty shaky.
I laughed at the joke, the echo sounding maniacal—hollow … I’d lost my mind. How could I possibly be laughing while suspended hundreds of feet from my death? New tactic:
There once was a girl from Seven—
The poem started out pretty badly, I thought, but I was sure I could make it worse. I crept forward, no walls, no ground in reach.
Who dreamt every night about livin—
Livin? That didn’t rhyme with seven. Besides, where was the ing? I sounded like a hick. Hick? Where had I heard that word before? I reached out again, a hole in the grate to my right, the metal torn and mangled.
What could have made a hole like that? I wondered. I couldn’t imagine anything crashing through that grate unless
it had fallen from very high above. I arched my neck.
A star twinkled overhead.
I wanted to laugh and cry. I’d found the exit and it was entirely out of reach. The top was narrow, the walls edging out wider and wider like a reverse funnel until they disappeared into darkness.
I will live, she said,
As she climbed out of bed—
I looked up again but the sky was too dark to see details. Maybe ahead the tunnel sloped more gradually and met up with the hillside in a way I could walk it. I placed one hand in front of the other, knees balancing on thin metal rods.
The grate shifted to my left, slipping through rock with a deafening screech. I scrambled forward, feeling a thicker web this time, a rough, dangling web that brushed my cheek without falling apart.
The grate silenced.
My arms shook.
It slipped three inches. I yelped. Six more—I scrambled toward that web, hoping it would hold me if that entire grate crashed before I reached the other side.
Stones plopped below, dull sounds that felt miles away. I spread my knees for balance and let go with one hand. The grate pitched and my hand shot up, groping empty darkness for the web that had just brushed my face. My head spun, and I tried to counter the sinking by staying upright but I could no longer tell if I reached up, to the side, out … I searched for that single star, found it off to my right and reached my hand toward it. The webbing had been up … straight up.
My fingers brushed the bottom, not firmly enough to catch myself, but enough to know it really existed. I’d have to let go with both hands to grasp it. I didn’t think—I let go with my other hand, stretched out—felt the web along my arm.
The grate grew weak beneath me, collapsing into the stone, ripping through the walls.
I planted my foot on one metal rod, shoved forward as the grate rocked out of reach.
I scrunched my eyes closed and fell—less than a foot—pain ripping through my right shoulder as the web caught my arm and held me in the dark, legs kicking over nothing.