by Sara King
“Why’d you shoot him?” Joe demanded once it was over. “We could’ve got him to lead us out!” Libby gave him a blank look.
Taking a deep breath, Joe said, “Never mind. We’ve still got the girl.”
The prisoner in question was wide-eyed and panicked, hyperventilating through Joe’s fingers. She, like everyone else in Lagrah’s battalion, was fully grown, though Joe could tell she was Maggie’s age.
“I guess that answers our question,” Scott said, frowning confusedly down at the terrified girl. “The hunt’s still on.”
“Yeah,” Joe said. “And she’s gonna tell us exactly where to find that flag before we kill her.”
The girl’s eyes opened until the whites were visible all around and she shook her head wildly, nostrils flaring.
Libby squatted in front of the girl, casually leaning her rifle against a knee. “You tell us, we’ll make it quick. You don’t tell us and maybe we won’t kill you. We’ll just leave you here for the Takki to find. Alive.”
At that, the girl stiffened, her entire body rigid.
Libby looked bored. “So where is it?”
The girl tried to say something through Joe’s fingers, but it came out as a garbled mess. Libby glanced at Joe and Joe scowled down at the girl. “You do anything except tell us exactly where the flag is and I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp. You got me?”
“K-kkee, Zero.” The girl was crying softly, trying to keep her choking sobs silent, her tears glistening blue in the muted glow of their guns. Joe and Libby glanced at each other. She knows who I am? Joe mouthed to her.
Libby didn’t miss a beat. “You better tell us before Zero gets any more pissed than he already is.”
The girl couldn’t have looked more terrified if she had told her that they were about to tear her apart and eat her flesh to stay alive. She shivered and nodded her head quickly. Joe actually felt sorry for her.
“First off,” Libby said, “Tell us how many defenders are still alive.”
“Most of the battalion,” the girl blubbered. “You guys fight like Takki.”
At Joe and his groundteam’s scowls, however, she flushed and quickly looked away.
“Tell us how to find the flag,” Libby ordered. “Which tunnel did you come from?”
“Please, Commander Lagrah will punish me if I tell you!”
“Lagrah will punish you worse if he finds out you surrendered,” Libby said.
“Tell us!” Joe barked, when the girl hesitated.
The girl gulped, blue eyes fixed on him in horror. “Down the way we came, there’s a crossroads. We marked the right path with a little X on the floor.”
“How many tunnels until we reach the flag?” Joe pressed.
She frowned at them in confusion. “Just one.”
“How many defenders on the flag?” Libby asked.
“You mean you guys didn’t know where you—”
“Shut up and answer the question!” Libby snapped.
“Five,” the girl whimpered. “A battlemaster and the rest of our groundteam.”
“Just five?” Joe demanded.
She nodded. “Everybody else is on the surface. We thought you were all dead.”
As promised, Libby shot the girl in the chest. As soon as she opened her mouth to scream, Joe clamped his hand back down over her face. When her body stopped spasming, Joe stood up and examined his platoon. Almost eighty in all.
“You guys hear that?” he demanded. When everybody nodded, he said, “All right. The groundteam at the flag might be wondering where these two went, so let’s go in there and get it. She said there’s a battlemaster, so we’re gonna have to be fast in case he decides to call for others. Libby and I will be in front. Everyone behind us make sure you’re quiet. It’s not gonna help us if half of Second Battalion’s waiting for us at the flag because we made too much noise getting in there.”
Once he was sure they all understood, he and Libby covered their guns and moved down the tunnel.
They crept to the crossroads the girl had mentioned and crouched, listening. After a minute went by without hearing anything, Joe uncovered the cartridge long enough to find the X that the defenders had scratched into the floor. Then he cut off the glow again and led them deeper.
The light at the other end of the tunnel was the first sign that the girl had been telling the truth. Joe felt a rush of excitement and crept closer, until he could clearly see the five defenders sitting around a black standard with eight Congressional circles. Two were playing rock, paper, scissors and another looked like he was dozing.
“Now!” Joe jumped up and charged, followed by the rest of his platoon. He hit the biggest kid head-on and both of them went sprawling to the ground. The others followed his example and soon they had all five wrestled to the ground, helmets off, their faces pressed into the dirt. Libby went around and shot each one, and once their convulsions had stopped, they had the room to themselves. In the center, the flag hung from the ceiling, motionless.
Scott walked up and touched the flag, running his fingers along the smooth red and black designs. “So now what?” he asked, sounding almost in awe
Joe wasn’t sure. “They probably all heard the battlemaster screaming in his headcom. They’ll know something’s up.” He glanced around. The chamber had four tunnels leading out of it, giving any attackers an advantage. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”
“I thought the hunt ended if we got the flag,” Maggie said, walking over to stand by Scott and frowning up at it. “Don’t we have the flag?”
“Maybe we need to take it with us,” Joe said. “Back to the surface. Mag, grab it.”
Maggie was pulling the flag down when Sasha snatched it and yanked it from Maggie’s grasp. The ripping sound that followed made everyone in the room flinch.
Unconcerned, Sasha was stuffing the flag into her pack when Joe grabbed her arm and stopped her. “I told Maggie to carry it.”
“She’s not big enough to defend it,” Sasha said, picking up her rifle.
“He said give it back to her,” Monk said, eyes dangerous.
Slowly, lip curled in disgust, Sasha pulled it from her pack and threw it at the ground at Maggie’s feet. “Fine. Take it. Didn’t want to carry the stupid thing anyway.” Maggie, sniffling, gingerly picked up the torn black cloth.
“Carl, Scott, get us out of here,” Joe said. “Everyone else, be ready for a fight.”
They had been moving through the tunnels for another two hours, groping their way through them at a crawl, afraid of letting the defenders seeing the glow of their rifles, when Joe finally brought everyone to a halt.
“I think we’re far enough away to use a little light,” Joe said. He pulled the rag from over his gun and several recruits breathed a sigh of relief when the blue glow filled the tunnel. For Joe, however, the light reminded him of the walls surrounding him. He took a deep, irritated breath and fought down the urge to yell. “Carl, you don’t know where we’re going, do you?”
Carl bit his trembling lower lip, on the verge of tears. It was disconcerting, coming from what was, to all appearances, a full-grown man.
“Don’t worry about it,” Joe said. “We’ve got the flag. We won.”
Libby frowned at him in the gloom. “Then why haven’t they come to get us?”
That very same question was running through the back of Joe’s mind, nagging at him. “Nebil said you capture the flag, you win. That’s it.”
“What if a whole side has to be dead before they’ll let us go?” Libby said.
“Then we’ll get some sleep,” Joe said. “I’m tired of walking in circles.”
Scott and Carl looked away and he felt instantly bad.
“Hey, guys, it’s not your fault,” he told them. “It was dark and you couldn’t see.”
“He can see now and he still doesn’t know where he is,” Scott muttered.
“Everybody relax,” Joe insisted. “Take a break, catch a nap, whatever you want to do. We’ll just w
ait for the hunt to end.” He sat down against a tunnel wall and brought out his PPU again in desperation. He stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the blocky Congressional squiggles. He could read some of the numbers, but numbers by themselves meant nothing to him.
“You already tried that,” Sasha sneered. “Didn’t work last time either, remember?”
Joe scowled at Sasha and stuffed his PPU back into his vest and went back to waiting.
But the hunt didn’t end. Eventually, Joe had to admit that they weren’t coming. “Okay, everybody. Let’s get moving. Carl, just make your best guess. We can have as much light as you want this time. Just get us back to the surface.” Before I lose my mind down here. He’d managed to control himself so far, avoiding a serious attack, but he knew if he was down here much longer, he was going to come totally unglued in front of an entire platoon of kids.
Libby started moving around the camp, kicking everyone awake like Nebil liked to do. Joe nudged Maggie with a toe to spare her the rougher treatment, and she started, blinking up at him like an owl. “Hunt’s over, Joe?”
“We’re still trying to figure out where we are,” he admitted. “Listen up! Everyone keep a good eye out for X’s or any other markings that look out of place. I want as much light as possible, so uncover your cartridges. Maggie, take the safety off your rifle. Let’s move! Everybody follow Carl.”
“Like that’s gonna help,” Sasha sneered. “He’s been walking us in circles.”
“Go, Carl,” Joe said, glaring at her. “You’re doing great.”
Reluctantly, Carl obeyed. Four intersections later, they were staring down at a well-defined arrow in the entrance to one of the tunnels, pointing down it.
“Does an arrow mean In or Out?” Libby wondered aloud.
“Let’s say it means Out,” Joe suggested. “Come on, everybody. If it’s the wrong way, we can always turn around and go back.”
They followed the tunnel until they abruptly came to a dead-end with a tight, one-person passage leading into the darkness. Joe got on his knees and shone the light of a spare cartridge into the hole. It was so small he’d have to crawl on his hands and knees to get through it…and a fetid breeze hit his face the moment he got close to it. Immediately, he stepped back, his heart rate climbing.
“Looks like Out meant the other way,” he said. “Let’s turn around.”
“Wait a minute,” Libby said, squatting near the entrance. “Can’t you smell that?”
“Smell what? I don’t smell anything,” Joe lied. He swallowed, hard. His hands were shaking all over again.
“The air,” Libby said, frowning at him. “I can smell ferlii. This is a way out, Joe.”
“It’s too narrow,” Joe blurted. “We gotta backtrack. He immediately turned to go.
Libby grabbed his wrist as he turned. Her eyes were hard as she looked up at him. She was only a few inches shorter than him, now, and she hadn’t stopped growing yet. “Joe.” The word was as much a command as anything. “This is the way out,” she said, low enough that only he could hear. “Do you want to get out of here or do you want to stay trapped?”
Joe swallowed convulsively and the word ‘trapped.’ “It’s tiny Lib. We don’t know if anybody can even fit through there.”
“I can!” Maggie cried, stepping forward. Joe winced. He’d already made Maggie run across the battlefield. He couldn’t bear to see her pinned in a tunnel in his place, suffocating, unable to wiggle free. “Not you. You’ve gotta carry the flag. You’ll go last. Scott?”
Scott wrinkled his nose and peered into the hole. “I can see claw marks in there. Do I have to?”
“I’ll go!” Maggie cried again. “Here, Libby. You take the flag.” She shoved it enthusiastically into her groundmate’s hands.
Libby took the flag from Maggie and stuffed it under her belt. “Come back whenever you figure out what’s on the other side.”
Excitedly, Maggie crawled into the dark burrow. Ten minutes later, she was back, dirty and excited.
“I found it! The tunnel comes out on the inside of one of those broken buildings. There’s a couple narrow spots, but I think even you can get through, Joe.”
“You think, Mag?” he asked, more harshly than he wanted.
“Well, yeah,” Maggie said, “it was easy for me, but you’re a little bigger than me, so you might have to crawl a little.”
He sure as hell wasn’t about to stake his life on a five-year-old’s estimate. Just how good was Maggie at determining proportions? He remembered stuff being a lot bigger as a kid. What if she was wrong?
Then he realized everyone was staring at him, waiting for some sort of signal.
Joe cleared his throat nervously. He had to do it. He couldn’t just stand here. He couldn’t let them down.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to lead them into the tunnel. He’d rather sit there and starve to death. Joe bit his lip and glanced at the tunnel entrance. He could feel Libby watching him, gauging his reaction. Reluctantly, he said, “Maybe you guys should go first.”
“Maybe you should go first, Joe,” Libby said, watching him way too carefully.
Joe could feel his entire body trembling. Libby was right, as much as he hated her for it. He couldn’t wait for the others to go. If he did, and was last, he knew he would never find the willpower to crawl into the tunnel by himself. “Guess maybe I should, huh?” A nervous laugh built in his throat and he choked it back down. You’re acting like a baby. Not even Sam acted like this when the aliens caught him, you big pussy.
Feeling his groundmates’ eyes fixed on him, Joe reluctantly pulled off his pack and dropped it into the entrance. He hesitated, taking a deep breath. He caught Maggie giving him a strange look and he forced a smile. “Never been a fan of tight spaces,” he said. “Keep getting this idea I’m gonna die.” Say it, you coward. You’re afraid you’re gonna bleed to death. In a tunnel. Where the sharpest things are little bits of stone. You fire-loving furg.
“We’ll be right behind you,” Libby assured him. Her face had softened a little, and she almost looked like she sympathized with him now. Joe quickly looked away. Someone else’s sympathy would give him the excuse he needed to back down.
“Don’t follow me too close,” Joe said, eyes fixed on the dark maw of the tunnel. “If I get stuck, I’ll have to back out.”
“Ten minutes enough?” Libby asked.
Joe swallowed, hard. Ten minutes. Alone. In a body-fitting tunnel. “Yeah. I can do that.” He got down and started crawling, pushing his gun and his pack through the tunnel in front of him. Almost immediately, feeling that cold, lifeless stone swallowing him, he felt as if the world had suddenly shrunk to a pinpoint above and behind the back of his head. His breathing grew more rapid and sweat sprang out on his brow, worsening the already hot conditions of the tunnel, making it almost impossible to breathe. He had a sudden urge to stand up and run, but crammed into the narrow passage as he was, he could barely even crawl. Up ahead, he even saw a place where he would have to get down on his belly.
Suddenly, an overpowering image of blood on the floor of the tunnel made him jerk away, slamming his back against a rough spot in the roof above him. The pain only panicked him further, making him convinced something had punctured his skin. All the way down here, they had no way of getting him to a medic. He lost it, then, and thrashed, his legs churning up the tunnel floor, the ceiling raining down more sandy blackness from where he was trying desperately to stand up.
I’m gonna die. That’s blood and I’m gonna die. He backed up until the back of his shirt caught on the tunnel ceiling and held him in place. In a panic, Joe lunged forward and wedged himself into a tight spot, and between the shirt and the narrow passage, he was suddenly unable to move. He choked back a scream, his lungs sucking in ragged, panting breaths of stale tunnel air.
After several minutes of futile, mindless struggling, a voice of sanity broke through the terror. Calm down! That’s not blood. That’s just a darker layer of di
rt. Maggie must’ve brushed it off the ceiling when she crawled through here earlier. Stop freaking out!
Joe blinked repeatedly, trying to cement in his mind that the stain on the floor wasn’t blood. It was difficult. He actually had to reach out and press his hand into it, brushing his fingers through the dry sandy layer in order to dispel the image of red wetness. He gave a desperate laugh and lowered his head to the dirt, his entire body shaking.
Just sand. It’s just sand, Joe. Get a grip, man. Come on and get moving. They’re gonna be behind you any minute now.
That was the wrong thing to think. Joe started breathing harder, thinking about how he was going to get stuck in here, trapped by a line of kids behind him. He swallowed several times, staring at the two-foot-tall space up ahead. Cavers wouldn’t have any problem at all getting through that. He’d seen documentaries where they crawled miles through spaces much smaller than the one in front of him.
And they never freak out like a burning pussy, either.
Joe closed his eyes and pushed one shaking limb forward. Once that was in place, he forced his leg to follow it. Soon afterwards, he was on his belly, staring at a narrower spot in the passage ahead. His every joint and muscle was tingling and felt like gelatin and his fingers wouldn’t stop shaking.
He took several deep, ragged breaths, then lifted his head to once more eye the path ahead of him. What if it got too tight? What if he couldn’t squeeze through? What if he got stuck? Somehow, Joe found the will to push himself forward on shaking limbs. When he reached the tight spot in the tunnel, he reluctantly lowered himself to his belly.
You can do this. Maggie did it twice. How’s that feel, furg? You’ve got less balls than a five-year-old girl. That’s something to write home about. Hey, Dad, I’m a soldier that pissed himself in front of ninety little kids. What an accomplishment, huh? Just close your eyes and get it over with, you damn pussy.
Taking a deep, unhappy breath, Joe forced his shaky body to move forward. His back brushed the ceiling and Joe gasped, trembling all over.