by Holly Hook
The river snakes below and the ground dips away. I catch a glimpse of dark ground where my fire pit was, but there's nothing else except for new footprints in the mud. Boot prints. A man's boot prints. They head the way I was going and vanish about ten feet up the river, covered by gravel. Mr. Larconi has left. Should I follow? Maybe I can sneak up on him.
He must still have his gun. I don't think he knows I have this axe. But he could be waiting somewhere ahead, waiting to ambush me.
My heart hammers. I look as far up the river as I can, but it curves again and the darkness of the forest canopy makes the water appear almost murky and green. I don't spot any openings that he could have hidden in. Maybe the Dwellers opened one up for him and he's back underground, like a vampire who can't come out in the daytime.
I'm going to head back to the forest after all.
Mr. Larconi wouldn't be coming after me if there wasn't something out here he doesn't want me to reach. The faint arrow points me into the forest. He must have missed it in the dark.
I run back towards the giant sloped tree. I grab my backpack and double check to make sure I've gotten everything.
What am I going to eat, now that I don't have access to the river?
There aren't any fish out here.
I grab at the glowberries and pull and entire cluster off. I pick off a second bunch and begin to walk. I might have to take the risk.
Chapter Seven
Pit
The forest remains the same the deeper I go. I keep looking behind me, but the trees have covered up the way to the river now. I know that I'm getting lost, but at least I might be throwing off the Dwellers' trail and Larconi as well. Unless they have something underground that they can use to track me, I'm home free.
So long as these berries are edible.
I pick one off the cluster as I walk and smash it between my fingers, waiting for the burn. It never comes. The substance smells kind of good, almost like lemons. This might be okay to eat. I wonder if it'll make me glow if I eat them. That would be way too creepy and not good at night.
I pick a second berry.
Stuff it in my mouth. I'll only try one. If it makes me sick, I'll throw away the rest or find another use for them.
It's actually pretty good. I chew and swallow. It leaves a pleasant lemony flavor on my tongue. It would be good with the fish, I realize. I always used to squeeze lemon juice onto my fish whenever Mom and Dad took us out to eat. I loved it. This stuff almost tastes the same.
But I can't go back to the river now.
Mr. Larconi is there, waiting for me to pass. He must have been the man on the cliff, too, unless he has more guys out here looking. The Flamestone Society could have thousands of members for all I know, all working to kidnap people and sell them to those Dwellers. It's the perfect crime. The victims vanish into another world and no one ever knows.
What am I going to do about them when I get back home?
I keep walking. I take out one orange rock and study it in my hands as I do. It's just as glittery and magical as it was in the cliff side. The ground becomes more uneven and the trees grow closer together. The forest darkens so much that I contemplate going back. The canopy thickens overhead and only occasional beams of sunlight make it through now. I walk through one and look at the sky. I can barely see the large moon right above my head. This place might be dangerous. What if—
Something squeaks.
I look ahead. There's a hole in the ground, one that leads to pure darkness. And right in front of it is a single Dweller, staggering towards me with a green hand outstretched.
I avert my eyes. Sickness washes through my insides and I take a breath. There's no way I can let myself pass out. More might come out of that hole if I do and haul me away. I face the leaves overhead, making out their shapes. The sickness calms. There's only one of them here. If it had been a crowd, I'd be down.
It's too dark here.
Dark enough for the Dwellers to tolerate it.
The Dweller squeaks again. It's almost like it's asking me for something.
For the orange stone in my hands?
I back up, eyes to the sky, waiting for more of the Dwellers to come out of the hole. They don't. This one seems to be alone, but that hole next to it must go down way below the surface. These Dweller holes might be everywhere after all and they're coming after me every night because there really is an underground network down there. This might be where that little army vanished to when daybreak came.
It squeaks again. Closer. Can a single Dweller hurt me so long as I look away? I search around for a ray of sun that I can stand in. There's one far behind me.
Then the creature tugs on my pant leg and I scream. It pulls harder. I know what it's doing. It wants me to look down so it can sicken me. Either that, or it wants the stone in my hands. Both, probably.
I'm not going to let it. I lift my foot and the Dweller makes one last terrified squeal.
I bring it down and there's a horrible crunch.
A squishing noise follows, filling the forest for a second. A few butterflies flutter out of the leaves like they've sensed it. Something that feels like a broken plastic toy is under my shoe. I know what it is.
Then I look down.
There's green slime and red and yellow sticking out from under my shoe.
"Yuck," I say, averting my gaze. "Did you really want this rock that bad?"
I lift my foot. Wipe it off on the tall grass. Maybe I shouldn't have stepped on the creature like that, but I couldn't take any chances.
None.
Even though it seemed to be begging like a little kid.
I eye the hole in the ground. It looks even more sinister in the light, even darker and deeper and scarier. I've got get away from it. It's dark enough here for the Dwellers to tolerate being up for at least a short time, even though that one was hobbling.
The Dweller deserved to have me step on it.
It did.
These things like to enslave people and work them until they die.
But what if they somehow need that orange rock to live? That Dweller was so desperate. I know nothing about how Dwellers work. This isn't Earth.
That still doesn't make what they do all right.
I walk faster. Grass slaps at my pant legs. My throat's dry. There are more holes even deeper in the forest and they get more and more numerous. I spot no more Dwellers but I feel like I'm walking over Swiss dirt instead of Swiss cheese. Most of the holes would only let rabbits pass through, but a few are bigger, maybe big enough for me to get stuck up to my waist. I hold my breath with each step.
Skittering sounds rise from the ground.
I'm over a Dweller nest or something.
I break into a run.
The noise grows louder. I've been detected. My feet pound the grass. I slip and my foot slides down into the maw of a pit. Something claws at it and I bite in a cry. I can't let them hear me or they'll all rush out and know where I am. It might be too late already. I kick and the creature falls away with a thunk. That arrow must have pointed to a trap after all. This trap.
The ground trembles. They're coming up. It's dark enough here for them to surface.
"Up, Elaine!" I push myself off the ground and keep the grip on my axe.
And bolt.
Another tiny hand grabs at my pant leg. I shake it off. Keep looking ahead. The axe is heavy in my hands. I don't slow. I dodge a small hole with a pair of pointed hats coming out. Don't stop. Don't look.
The ground slopes upward. Pebbles slide under my feet. The canopy thins. Light turns from dark green to bright yellow. I'm coming out into a clearing. Squeaks of pain sound off behind me. The sun's holding them back. The world's bright green and yellow and tan.
I emerge into the sun and into a large clearing with a pond and a few more boulders. I have to squint. I stop in the middle of a patch of yellow flowers and catch my breath. The Dwellers won't follow me out here if they value their lives. The dark forest boxes
me in on all sides. I'm in a little bubble of safety, so long as the light remains.
I check to make sure no one human has followed me. I'm alone. The tall grass hides any Dwellers from view, shielding me from their eyes.
Following that arrow must have been a bad idea after all.
I have to take a break. Mr. Larconi is down by the river. He must be miles away. The forest surrounds me on all sides, a circular wall of green and brown.
What if there are little Dweller holes on all sides of me? Thousands of them could be waiting for the sun to go down to come out and get me. All I have here is a small pond, wildflowers, and a large boulder to keep me company. There's nothing I can use to defend myself when night comes. Getting up another tree will mean going back into the forest.
I'm stuck on this little island of light.
My stomach rumbles and cramps.
I've had nothing to eat since last night and it's about lunch time now. I might as well eat the berries and think about how I'm going to get out of this.
I check again to make sure the Dwellers haven't brought Mr. Larconi or Roger here. I'm not sure what I'll do if they show up. How could they? Those holes in the forest were too small for even Mr. Larconi to get through and it's hopeless for Roger. Coming underground might not be an option for them. I might be safe here for a little bit longer.
I settle down on the first boulder and get out the rest of the berries. Even though I've picked them two hours ago, they're still round and fresh. I go to work eating the rest of them, but all it does it make me feel even hungrier, like they're just an appetizer meant to make me ready for the rest of the meal.
Only there is no rest of the meal. I can't eat the flowers or the grass. Or this boulder, for that matter, or--
There's another dead Dweller on the ground, not far from the rock. It lies face-down like those others I found, as if trying to shield its huge eyes from the sun. It must have been sitting here since at least this morning.
My stomach lurches at first, but I walk over and turn it over with my foot.
Its green eyes are wide and dead. No sickness washes over me now. The Dweller has no eyelids. No way to close its eyes to block out the light. It's been caught out in the open at the wrong time. Maybe the light got too bright for it to see.
I kick at the Dweller. It rolls away in the grass and closer to a hole that I hadn't realized was there.
Something whimpers.
I jump.
It's coming from another hole in the ground. A big one only two feet from me.
The sound comes again, and I don't need to know its language to know what it means.
Help.
It's not a Dweller squeak, but I know I've heard this sound before. The sun shines straight down into the pit. I approach, keeping the axe close. An image of blood and fur flashes behind my eyelids when I blink and before I look down, I know what I'll see.
And right on the bottom is one of those rabbit-dogs.
This one's not growling. It looks up at me, ears drooping in despair. Its magenta spots almost shine in the sun and the creature pants in the growing heat. Or is it thirst? Its eyes are deep and sad, like that of a puppy. It can't be. The last one of these I found was trying to kill me. This one looks like a lost dog I'd find behind a Dumpster, desperately trying to find a meal.
I understand what that's like now.
The rabbit-dog stands on its hind legs and claws at the dirt.
It's trapped down there.
The thing falls and whimpers again.
I don't know what to do. I've never seen one of these in this situation before. The creature jumps and claws again, then falls back down. There's the remnant of a Dweller at the bottom of the pit, a green clawed hand and a striped arm, but nothing else.
I swallow.
It looks so sad. If I leave it in there, it's going to die a slow, horrible death.
I know what it's like to be hungry and thirsty.
And trapped. I glance around at the trees and darkness that surrounds me.
If I rescue it, will it help me? There are Dwellers in this forest. I could be surrounded. This rabbit-dog could help keep them away from me, at least long enough to let me get away.
It's a stupid thought. This animal could go for my throat as soon as I get it out of the hole. But this one's not growling. It might be worth a shot. Just because the one rabbit-dog was vicious doesn't mean that they all will be--right? It could be like dogs back home. Some are mean and others will be your best friends for life.
This might be my only shot. The rabbit-dogs eat Dwellers. That might come in handy.
I pick up the dead Dweller on the ground.
It's gross. Its clothes aren't clothes after all. It's a striped shell. I feel like I'm holding the armor of some bug. I struggle not to drop the Dweller. How did I ever think of these things as gnomes?
“Hey,” I say to the creature in the pit. “You want this?”
The rabbit-dog cocks its head in interest. Yes, it seems to say.
I throw it down in the hole, and the rabbit-dog gobbles it down and looks right back up at me, chewing. Green slime runs down the sides of its mouth and I struggle to keep my tiny lunch down.
Then it looks up at me, begging. Get me out of here.
I nod. “I'll be right back.” I don't have any more Dwellers to feed it, but I have to try to get this guy out. I can't just leave something here to die.
Sure, you can, Melissa says.
And then the whole chorus of her friends join in.
Who do you think did it?
When's she going to be in prison?
"Shut up,” I say, walking back towards the forest. “You're not the ones out here.” They're probably making jokes about us all going missing right now. I'm sure they're saying that I killed Shawn and Travis too and I've run away so the cops can't catch me.
It makes me almost glad that I'm here and don't have to see it.
I have to find something to pull the rabbit-dog out with. I can't just leave it there, even if the last one I met tried to kill me. If I continue walking now, it's all I'm going to think about even if the Dwellers don't manage to drag me away.
I stop on the edge of the trees, staying in the sun. I listen. Grass moves as if things are running through it. The Dwellers are still here, waiting for me to step into the darkness to show themselves. I can't go too far inside. My heart pounds. I need that rabbit-dog in the pit. We need each other or I'm not going to make it out of this clearing.
In the way I want, anyway.
There's a fallen branch just inside the shadow of the trees. It lies on the grass, covered in leaves. A couple of butterflies have settled on it and they flap their wings.
I close my eyes and lunge. I grab at grass and the air grows cool as the sun vanishes. Dwellers squeal all around me and something scratches the top of my hand. They're right here. I seize the branch and punch air with my free hand. There's another squeak. I back away and into the warmth of the sun, branch in tow. I open my eyes, facing the blue of the sky above. The Dwellers are waiting in ambush after all. They're all around me.
And there's a narrow line of blood on the top of my hand. One of them clawed me.
Why won't they give up?
It's not like I'm going to march to the police station and tell them about the Flamestone Society. I can't even get out of this world.
Or can I?
There could be a very good reason that Mr. Larconi is still coming after me. There could be something out here that he doesn't want me to find.
I drag the branch back towards the hole.
I'm going to keep going on that alone.
Maybe I can give the rabbit-dog a lift with the branch and pull it out of the pit. The branch is about eight feet long—long enough to reach the bottom. If it's intelligent enough, it can grab onto the branch and climb out. I have to give it a shot.
I rush past the small pool of water. It's clear and seems to be bubbling out of the ground. The creature m
ust be thirsty. So am I. I'll have to get a drink here when we're all done. I won't let myself drink until I succeed. That'll motivate me to get the creature out.
He's still there, in the pit and staring up at me. His eyes are bright orange and they light up when he spots me. “I don't have another Dweller for you,” I say. “But I have this.”
I hold up the branch. The leaves rustle on the ground and another butterfly flies in front of me, fleeing for the forest cover.
The creature whimpers and shrinks back. His magenta spots shine in the sun.
“No, no,” I say. “I'm not going to hit you with this.” I set the branch down. Has someone done that to this thing already? Maybe it's already met humans and the ones he found weren't kind to him. “Here. I'm going to lower this, and you can grab on. Let's see if we can get you out.” I feel stupid. He probably can't understand a word I'm saying.
I lower the branch. The rabbit-dog backs away and stares at the branch for a moment.
“Grab on,” I say.
It looks up at me, clueless.
Then I take my hands and close my fists on the top of the branch. I don't know what I'm going to do if this doesn't work, other than start digging away the edge of the pit with my bare hands. I do have the vine in my backpack, but that won't do any good since you need hands to even climb with that.
The rabbit-dog jumps onto the branch and sinks its claws into the wood. It slips, but wraps one of its paws around a stick. Leaves rustle. The creature glances up at me with those bright orange eyes. I can almost see a nod. Pull, it must be thinking.
“Yes!” I say. How can it understand signs? Oh, well. I'll figure it out later.
I brace myself, set down my backpack, and pull at the branch.
It takes all my strength. My arms quiver and I back away, bending and keeping my weight down on it. The branch slides up a little. It's heavy even without the passenger. I dig my shoes into gravel and dirt and plants. Another few inches. I force myself to breathe. Something pulls in my shoulder but I grit my teeth. My sore muscles scream. Shawn and Travis would have done this, no problem.