by Kevin George
“Is that a. . . cave?” Henry asked.
“Or a tunnel,” Julietta said. “Either way, it’s shelter from the storm.”
She grabbed his wrist and guided him forward, ducking down to maneuver into the small opening. Inside, the walls were only a few feet apart, barely enough room for them to squeeze through. Compared to the never-ending whiteness of the outside world, the cave seemed darker than any place Julietta had ever been. They nearly slipped on a thin layer of ice just within but soon walked upon a hard, rocky floor, which felt strange after spending hours trudging through feet of snow. It was eerily quiet, the constant howl of wind now muffled and distant.
Julietta was so interested in their surroundings that she didn’t pay attention to Henry’s groaning. She helped him farther ahead, the light from outside becoming fainter. At first, she noticed how the temperatures became less cold the farther they walked; soon, she realized it wasn’t just getting less cold, it was getting hot—too hot. Julietta had no doubt the heat had something to do with the earlier explosions of steam. It was a risk to stay in the cave but a risk they needed to take.
“Put me down,” Henry grunted through clenched teeth.
Julietta helped him lean against a cave wall, at which time he immediately slid to a seated position. He rubbed his leg, gasping each time he touched it.
“I’m going farther in to explore,” Julietta said.
Henry nodded, his head tilting to the side as if he might pass out. Julietta walked deeper, her eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness, barely letting her see the darkened silhouettes of tunnel walls. Sweat dripped down her face and back as it became hotter and hotter, a glorious feeling after thinking she would freeze to death. In the back of her mind, she knew the heat in here might be as dangerous as the cold outside, but that was a problem she’d deal with later.
She walked less than fifty feet before her path was blocked by a wall of debris. She reached out to grab the nearest chunk, intent on digging through to see what awaited beyond, but immediately recoiled when she burned her hand. Trying to shake away the pain, she looked closer and saw tiny wisps of steam squeezing between the debris. Danger definitely lay on the other side, but the heat was worth the risk, at least for now. Julietta returned to Henry, ready to relay the news, when she found him with his pelt off and his pant leg rolled up.
Henry groaned. Enough light filtered in for Julietta to see what was wrong. The bottom part of his leg was turned at an angle that could only mean it was broken.
“I’m not going to make it,” he said.
For a moment—one that filled Julietta with shame—she wondered if Henry dying would be best for her survival. She reminded herself that he’d been awful to her—he’d risked her life on more than one occasion—and others. He probably deserved to die, alone and in pain. But the idea of being alone made her own journey seem that much more daunting. She decided her only chance for moving forward would be to ignore what happened in the past.
______________________________________________________________________________
“J. . . J. . . Julietta,” Isaac whispered to himself. “J. . . Julietta. . .”
Her name was his mantra, his voice the only sound other than howling wind, the memory of the love of his life the only thing that kept him trudging forward. He kept his head down to avoid too much snow to the face, but he looked up every few seconds, hoping to spot any evidence of life. Also, he needed to make sure he didn’t veer too close to the edge of the lava-filled cracks. Visibility was too low to see anything beyond the snow. Doubt burrowed its way deeper into Isaac’s mind, warning him that death with imminent and inevitable.
“Julietta!” he screamed, hoping to drown out the voices in his head. He inhaled deeply, his lungs filling with frigid air, causing him to explode into a fit of coughing.
Needing a boost of energy and a reason to rest, he kneeled in the snow and struggled to remove the supply pack that had frozen to his back. His hands shook. His fingers were so numb that he couldn’t grasp the string to untie the knot holding the bag closed. A gust of wind knocked him sideways and he lost his clumsy grip on the bag. The bag slid down a small embankment and Isaac scurried after it. He hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to the edge of a fissure until he watched the bag slide over the side.
Crawling on hands and knees, he approached the edge and peered over, receiving a blast of steam to the face. If the risk of falling over wouldn’t have resulted in immediate death, Isaac may have had a greater appreciation for the sudden warmth. As it was, he glanced down to see the strap of his bag caught on a snowy protrusion along the side of the fissure wall. He reached for it, his fingertips coming up just short, before flattening to his belly and inching farther over the edge. He hooked the strap with a single finger and began to move it when the bag fell free. Isaac fought the urge to lunge after it, but not before he felt an awful sinking sensation in his stomach.
He watched the bag land atop a blackened section atop the hardening lava. At first, he wondered if the magma had cooled enough for the bag to survive, maybe even allow him to climb down and retrieve it. But those thoughts only lasted seconds before the blackened skin cracked away and a bright orange glow shone through. The bag burst into flame and disappeared, everything Isaac hoped would keep him alive reduced to fire and ash. He leaned forward and closed his eyes, wondering how easier things would be if the same things happened to him. . .
“Julietta,” he said with conviction, crawling away from the edge.
He turned and marched forward, knowing he no longer had any food or extra clothing. If he wanted to survive, he couldn’t stop or slow down; if he wanted to get back to Julietta, he had to push forward. A burst of adrenaline let him move with a greater sense of purpose for the next few minutes, but the cold drained that adrenaline as quickly as it drained his energy. His life was quickly fading. He needed a miracle to last much longer.
When he spotted movement in the snows ahead, his insides leapt at the thought of someone being out there. But when he spotted several white-furred forms silhouetted against the white landscape, instinct kicked in and he dropped into the snow, hoping to blend in with his surroundings. He remained still, facedown, until he could no longer stop his teeth from chattering. He listened for growling, or grunting, or the crunching of heavy footsteps, but he heard nothing except wind. He finally lifted his head and spotted movement circling an unusually large snow mound just ahead.
Several minutes passed as he waited for the shapes to emerge on the other side of the mound. Nothing. Wondering if he’d been seeing things, Isaac slowly stalked ahead, ready to turn and run at the slightest sign of danger. Not that I’ll outrun any beast out here, he told himself, though curiosity continued to spur him forward. He rounded the snowy mound and suddenly lost his footing, sliding down a hidden embankment. Isaac expected to find a few beasts at the bottom, awaiting their next meal. What he didn’t expect to find was a hole in the ground, this one different from the lava fissures and steam-blasted holes.
An entrance to a tunnel? he thought. Or to a cave? A beast cave?
If the silhouetted forms had in fact been real, they could’ve only entered the opening. Common sense told Isaac to run and get as far away as possible, but the need for shelter—and a possible path beneath the surface—was worth risking an encounter with beasts. He entered the opening slowly, quietly, immediately feeling inviting warmth, praying his mind had only conjured seeing the beasts.
“It’s broken,” Julietta said.
“Then fix it,” Henry begged. “Please.”
“I can’t fix it,” Julietta said. “Only time can heal it, but that won’t start until the bone is set and secured.”
She reached for his leg, but Henry pushed her hands away. He sat up straighter, his grimace easing, his eyes creasing in fear.
“Have you done this before?”
Julietta shook her head. “I have read about it in a book.”
Henry shook his head. “Just le
ave it. The pain isn’t so. . . arghh. . . it isn’t so bad. I can handle it. Just help me up.”
Planting the foot of his good leg on the ground, Henry began to push up with his hands, trying desperately to stand. But he didn’t have enough strength to propel himself upright and crashed back to the floor, his bad leg bumping against the rocky floor. He groaned. When he tried to stand again, Julietta placed a hand on his chest to hold him down. She opened his pelt and grabbed hold of his dirty shirt beneath, ripping a long section of it.
“What are you doing?” Henry asked.
“Don’t move,” Julietta ordered, standing up to search the surrounding tunnel floor. “I need something to keep your leg immobilized once I. . . once it’s ready.”
Against the wall she found a long, flat rock about a foot long. It was the best she could’ve hoped for. With her two paltry supplies, she knelt beside Henry and gently took his leg in her hands.
“Is it going to hurt?” he asked.
She started to shake her head but stopped. If Henry had been anyone else, she would’ve tried to say something to assuage his fear, especially since the fear in his eyes made him look like the frightened little boy that he was. But considering of all the torture he’d put her through brought a smile to her face, a smile for which Julietta did not feel an ounce of regret.
“Yes, yes it is,” she said, gripping his leg tighter, causing him to whimper. “On three. Three. . . two. . .”
Isaac heard the echo of whimpering ahead. He couldn’t decide whether it was human or not. He paused and closed his eyes, concentrating intently, uncertain if the sounds he thought he’d heard were voices. Shuffling forward a few inches at a time, the tunnel became darker and warmer. Refuge from the cold made him feel normal again, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that he might bump into beasts at any moment.
His heart pounded and adrenaline kicked in. It was funny how quickly his energy returned once he was out of the storm. He heard the rustle of shifting rocks ahead and knew with certainty he wasn’t alone. He no sooner rounded a corner than he spotted a flash of white hunched over what appeared to be a human form. The person’s foot kicked pathetically, putting up no fight whatsoever against the beast. A moment later, the human—Isaac thought it was a man, but he couldn’t tell for sure—unleashed a guttural scream of agony that could only mean he was being torn limb from limb.
Isaac had no idea how another human reached this tunnel, but he only saw the outline of one beast now and had spotted two earlier. He didn’t plan to bump into the other and become the second human meal. He turned and rushed out of the cave, whispering a silent apology for the human he’d refused to help. As he approached the bright white light shining into the cave, the screaming behind him silenced, an awful lack of sound since Isaac knew what that meant. He never thought he’d be so relieved to reach the shrill winds and falling snows of the White Nothingness. . .
Henry’s scream echoed in the tiny cave, so loud Julietta feared it might cause a cave-in. She also worried that any beast within a five-mile radius might hear it and come rushing for an easy meal. She turned toward the surface end of the cave and thought she spotted a shadowy silhouette of movement. Her stomach sinking at the thought of beasts arriving so quickly, she squinted into the darkness.
“Quiet,” she hissed at Henry. “Something is out there.”
Henry choked on a gasp of pain and fear. Julietta held his leg with one hand and the flattened rock with the other, the only potential weapon at her disposal. She already planned to squeeze Henry’s leg if the beast showed back up, hoping the beast would prefer an easy target and allow her to sneak out. The skittering of footsteps faded and disappeared into the distant echo of wind. Julietta dared not sigh in relief.
“I wish we could’ve stayed here longer to rest,” she said, placing Henry’s leg atop the flattened rock, using the strips of torn shirt to secure it and stop his leg from moving. He winced but that didn’t convince her to tie the knots any looser. “We may have scared off the beasts for now, but they’ll be back.”
Henry’s eyelids fluttered, his eyes momentarily rolling into the back of his head. Julietta thought she might have to reach over and give him a good smack, but he soon focused and shook his head.
“My leg,” he said, clutching at it.
Julietta looked down at her work. Granted the leg didn’t look great, but it was definitely straighter than it had been before. For good measure, she tightened a few of the knots and pulled his pant leg roughly over the injury, hoping the burst of pain would keep him conscious.
“It’s not getting any better than that, at least not now,” she said. “We have to leave.”
“I. . . can’t,” Henry said. “I need to stay. . . rest.”
“We’ll die if we stay here longer,” she said.
“We’ll die if we go back out there,” Henry said. “If I’m not going to make it, I’d rather die warm than frozen.”
“You’ll end up warm meat for whatever beasts come back here and find you,” she said. “I’ll take my chances with the weather.”
Henry frowned. After a moment’s thought, he nodded and sat up straighter. He mentioned the need for sustenance and convinced Julietta to tap into her limited food supply. Unsure when they’d have another quiet moment to eat, Julietta dug into her bag and retrieved a few strips of frozen, dried beast meat. The food gave her an unexpected boost of energy. She pulled Henry to his feet with greater ease than when they’d entered the cave. His first few steps were slow and careful and joined by gasps, but by the time they approached the surface, he worked himself into a steady rhythm with Julietta’s help.
Outside, the storm still raged. After a difficult climb up the snowy embankment, Julietta looked behind them and thought she spotted a faint silhouette heading in the opposite direction. She wondered if the beast—if that’s what it is—realized what had happened to the Dome back there. Either way, she was glad to head the other way, though it wasn’t long before Henry leaned more and more of his weight on her. His injury would undoubtedly lead to his downfall. If Julietta didn’t make a tough decision soon, it would doom her, too.
CHAPTER SIX
Oliver’s truck began to slow, a nearly imperceptible drop in speed at first, but soon a noticeable difference as the other vehicles started to pull farther away. No matter how hard he mashed the accelerator, the truck wouldn’t catch up. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the smoke billowing from the engine—not to mention the cracks in the lava tubing and the popped front tire—had something to do with the slowdown. Oliver fought the steering wheel but couldn’t stop the vehicle from grinding against the nearby wall.
When he engine finally died, the truck’s tires slowed to a stop. Olly climbed out, worried he and the passengers would be far behind the rest of the survivors, forced to continue their trek on foot. But he spotted the soft glow of lights just ahead and his group hurried forward to find the line of vehicles stopped at a large fork in the tunnel. Other passengers climbed out of their vehicles, whether it be to speak with each other, inspect their rides for damage, gaze in awe at their surroundings or stare down both ends of the split section of tunnel.
The two vehicles in the back had suffered the most damage, especially the truck with the back section torn off. Passengers climbed out of the same opening from which Oliver had leapt twice. When Paige appeared with her arm around Mia and the baby, Olly stopped in his tracks, his legs feeling weak. Paige’s eyes spotted him among the approaching crowd. He smiled despite the glare he received from her before she quickly turned away. Olly hurried to the back of the truck and offered her a hand. Paige allowed him to assist Mia and the baby—whose cries had since calmed—but she pulled her arm back when Olly reached out to touch her.
“I. . . I’m sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t altogether certain what he was apologizing for.
“You shouldn’t have jumped out. . . you shouldn’t have put yourself at risk again,” she said.
“Like the risk
you took trying to help people into the truck?” Olly asked.
He’d intended to sound light-hearted, but Paige either misinterpreted him or wasn’t in the mood for playfulness. She took Mia by the hand and faded into the growing crowd, as more passengers climbed out and convened near the tunnel’s fork. Though a few Tunnelers spoke with curiosity about traveling so far into the tunnels and what existed down both sides of the fork, the majority of voices were filled with fear and trepidation about what waited ahead and behind.
“Is this everyone?” asked a familiar voice approaching from the front. “What kind of losses are we looking at?”
The former Queen Liv arrived with Irving. As other Tunnelers gave her updates on the losses of several vehicles and scores of people, her eyes found Oliver. Her expression softened at the sight of him. For a moment, Oliver remembered the way she used to look at him when he was a child. He still couldn’t believe she was alive, a fact that filled him with equal parts surprise, relief, joy and bitterness. He looked away, not wanting to let her see that a part of him cared. Still, he knew she’d ordered the final vehicle back to rescue him and Paige, which wasn’t the first time she’d been responsible for saving his life. He couldn’t muster the same anger he’d felt for her earlier.
“And who knows how many others died because we had to go back and rescue your son,” one of the Tunnelers snapped.
Liv’s eyes hardened and she approached the Tunneler, glaring up at him with disdain. Liv was nearly a foot shorter and half as wide as the Tunneler, but that didn’t stop her from bumping into him until he retreated a step. When she spoke, she did so with an eerie calmness that quieted everyone around her. “You wanted me to let my only child perish?”
“If it meant keeping more of us safe?” the Tunneler asked. He took his own step forward, forcing Liv to take her own step back. “You’re damn right.”