At first, nothing happens. Then one of the soldiers peers into a tunnel. “Captain,” he says, “I think we better send out a scouting party. There’s trouble coming, I’m sure of it.”
“Take a few men and check it out,” says the captain from his lawn chair. He swings his feet up onto the table, unwilling to leave me now that he’s able to feel whole once more.
Not wanting to miss out on the action, almost all of the ghost soldiers arm themselves and disappear down the dark tunnel. Only the captain and the teenage boy stay behind. I stand in my root cage trying not to reveal the anxiety I feel inside. I want to be ready to act, but don’t know just what is it I should be ready to do.
The boy, who was seated on the floor, suddenly gets to his feet. I try to read the expression on his face, but it’s hard—he’s too far away from me to have his flesh fully restored. But something tells me he knows what’s about to happen. He moves over to the wall and picks up one of the rifles.
“What are you doing, boy?”
“Just cleaning my musket, sir.”
The captain mumbles his approval and returns to his book. The boy looks at me as he removes the bayonet from the end of his long gun. He moves closer to my cage, and the flesh blooms on his bones. Now I’m sure of the sympathy in his eyes. “They’re coming,” he whispers before holding the bayonet blade close to his leg.
Just when I think he’s about to pass the blade to me, I see a white spot quivering against the wall beside me. It takes a moment to register, but then I realize someone’s pointing a light at me! I scan the cavern, searching for its source, and nearly faint when I see Nyla and Keem crouching by the mouth of one of the tunnels that ring the cavern.
Then everything happens at once. Frantic hollering comes from the tunnel that the scouting party went down, and within seconds mice, rats, and other small furry beasts begin scurrying into the cavern.
“What in damnation?” cries the captain, jumping up and kicking at the frantic creatures that are now spilling into the room. They crawl up the walls, the chairs—even my legs! Then several of the ghost soldiers tumble into the room carried on a virtual wave of feet and fur.
In the chaos, the boy slips his bayonet blade into my cage. I start sawing at the roots from the inside, and he pulls out a hunting knife to hack at them from the outside. Before long we’ve managed to cut a large enough hole for me to slip through. Now I just have to wade through the sea of vermin in order to reach Nyla and Keem.
13.
I might have slipped away unnoticed if I hadn’t been carrying Nuru inside of me. But as soon as I take a step away from the ghost soldiers, the flesh on their bones starts to wither away. At first they’re all too busy battling rodents to notice. The captain is stabbing at the poor critters with the bayonet end of his rifle. His back is turned to me, so at first he doesn’t notice that I’ve broken free of the root cage and am heading toward one of the far tunnels. But when the skin on his hands starts to rot, the captain spins around and yells, “You—boy! Get back here!”
When I disobey, the captain barks another command—this time to his troops: “It’s a diversion—after him, boys! Don’t let him escape!”
I try to run, but I can barely move my feet through the swirling stream of rodents. I fall more than once but keep on inching forward, knowing I’m now being pursued by a mob of ghosts. I keep my eyes glued on the black mouth of the tunnel where I saw Nyla and Keem, but when I finally get there—they’re gone.
“Nyla? Keem?” I hear my desperate voice echo down the dark tunnel, but I can’t see anyone. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? Did I just imagine my friends had come to rescue me?
Then I hear Nyla’s voice up ahead: “Hurry, D—this way!”
I rush forward into the blackness, trailing my hand along the tunnel wall so I don’t trip over the steady trickle of mice and rats scampering along the ground. I keep hoping I’ll see the white circle of light again, but nothing appears to guide me. Where are they?
Behind me I can hear the curses of the angry ghost soldiers and the tiny shrieks of rodents as they are kicked or stabbed or swept aside. I want to speed up, but I am afraid to plunge further into the darkness alone. I tug at my shirt, hoping to see that light glowing again in my chest, but I can’t see, hear, or feel Nuru’s presence. I am alone.
Just as my heart sinks in despair, I hear Nyla’s voice once more.
“D—up here!”
I turn to face the wall and strain my eyes to see the top of the tunnel. Nyla flicks on her flashlight for just a moment so I can see her face peering out of a small hole. “How’d you get up there?” I ask.
The beam of light wavers as Nyla moves aside to let Keem take her place in the small opening about six feet off the ground. “Never mind—just hurry up!” Keem says.
I reach into the darkness. Keem leans out of the hole, bats my hands aside, and grasps my forearms instead. I hear him grunt as he pulls me up off the ground. I use my feet to climb up the wall, and within a few seconds I’m in the secret tunnel with Nyla and Keem. It is much smaller than the tunnel I just left, and we lie pressed close together as the ghost soldiers pass below us muttering angrily.
“Where’s he gone?”
“Bring a torch! Can’t find a darkie in the dark.”
“We should’ve skinned him alive while we had the chance!”
“Come on, boys—he don’t know these tunnels like we do!”
We feel a rush of icy air, and then there is silence in the tunnel below. Nyla wriggles away from the opening and gestures for us to follow her. We don’t say a word until we’re deep in the secret tunnel and sure that no one can hear us. The space isn’t large enough for any of us to stand, so we sit in a tight circle with Nyla’s flashlight in the middle.
“How did you guys find me? And what happened to your arm?”
Nyla touches her right shoulder and then shrugs to prove it’s OK. “You tell me, D. One minute blood was oozing from my shoulder, and then you touched me and…”
“And what?”
Keem takes over the story. “By the time I reached her, the bleeding had stopped. I couldn’t even tell where the spike went in.”
“But—that’s impossible!”
“Is it?” asks Nyla. “Earlier today the bird perched on your knee for two seconds, and all of a sudden the wound in your ankle healed up.” Nyla watches me as I consider her words—and their implication. “It’s inside of you, isn’t it—the bird?”
I nod and check for the light in my chest, but there’s still no sign of Nuru.
“So that must mean that whatever healing power it had has now passed to you.” Nyla takes my hand in hers. “You touched me, remember? I grabbed your hand before you left, and I felt—something—shoot up into my arm.”
Keem either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind that Nyla’s still holding my hand. “Can you, like, feel it inside of you?” he asks.
“Not really. But I can still hear her. Nuru’s been guiding me…off and on.”
“We sure could have used a guide,” says Keem. “We followed that stone monster and saw you crawl into the white boulder. But then the creature fell apart and the entrance was covered by a ton of bricks.”
Nyla jumps in. “So we started looking for a fallen tree.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Remember how we saw the mist coming out of the ground where that old tree had been ripped up by the roots? We figured that must be a way into…their world. But then we found the second boulder, and the plaque on it opened like a door.”
“A small door,” adds Keem.
I almost laugh thinking of long, lean Keem trying to squeeze into an opening not much bigger than a sheet of paper. “So how did you fit through?”
Nyla and Keem look at one another and shrug. “I felt like Alice in Wonderland!” Nyla exclaims. “As soon as I stuck my head in, I either started to shrink or the doorway started to expand.”
“Either way, we both got in. It was pitch black in the
re, but Nyla was prepared.”
“I’m no Boy Scout, but I am a military brat.” Nyla nods at the compact silver flashlight propped up before us. It’s attached to a bundle of keys along with some purple lanyard, a Swiss Army knife, and a small plastic alien that glows green in the dark.
“We went down these stairs that seemed to last forever, and there were two tunnels. Keem thought he heard voices, so we took the tunnel on the left, and that led us straight to you.”
Keem nudges me with his massive foot. “Good thing we showed up when we did.”
I should say something about how relieved I was to see them, but pride pricks at my throat instead. “Actually, I was just about to break out of there when you guys showed up.”
“Yeah, right,” scoffs Keem.
“It’s true! One of the ghost soldiers helped me escape!”
“Why would a nether being help you?” asks Nyla.
“I don’t know—he wasn’t like the others. He was young, like us.”
You must keep going, D.
I get to my feet. “Come on—Nuru says we have to keep moving.”
Nyla and Keem stand—or crouch—and we press forward in silence for a while.
“Where are we going?” asks Nyla. She’s in the lead, holding the flashlight.
“I don’t know,” I confess. “I’m waiting for Nuru to give me directions.”
Keem groans. “Ask her if she can find us a bigger tunnel—I can’t walk like Quasimodo much longer.”
A few moments later, Keem’s wish is granted: the small earthen tunnel ends, and we find ourselves in a large cement sewage tunnel. Nyla covers her nose with her hand as she splashes down into the shallow, slimy water. Keem sloshes past her and stretches his limbs. “Free at last!”
“Free?” asks Nyla. “Do either of you know where we are?” She swings the small beam of light around the tunnel, but we barely get a glimpse of our new surroundings before the light flickers and fades. “Crap—the battery’s dead. What do we do now?”
Hold out your hand, says Nuru. I do as I’m told and watch in amazement as the warm glow reappears around my heart. It moves up into my shoulder, travels down my arm, and settles in the palm of my hand. I push back against the darkness, and soon we can see clearly enough to move forward again.
The dark, foul-smelling tunnel intersects with others, but we keep going straight ahead. I figure Nuru will let me know if we’re heading in the wrong direction. My feet are soaked, and it’s colder than when we were in the earthen tunnel under the park. At times we can hear the faint rumble of a nearby subway train, or the ground above will shake as a bus or truck rolls overhead. I don’t want to admit it, but I’m glad I’m not alone. The city’s alive above us, but no one in that world knows we’re down here. If anything happens—if anything else happens—we only have each other to rely on. Nuru’s inside of me, but she only pipes up when we prove we can’t handle the situation ourselves.
Keem and Nyla pick up where they left off, their voices filling the dank, empty space around us.
“Those dead guys sure looked pissed. Who—or what—are the Hessians they were whining about?” asks Keem.
“Hessen. They were German soldiers who fought for the British,” says Nyla. “Lots of people think they fought for money, but most of them had no choice—they were conscripted.”
“Well, those walking corpses back there sure know how to hold a grudge,” says Keem.
“It’s crazy but…I kind of feel sorry for them,” admits Nyla.
“What? Why?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It just seems…sad. I can’t imagine spending my afterlife being angry all the time.”
“Hey—when your number’s up, it’s up,” says Keem. “No point walking the earth terrorizing the living. Save your sympathy for D—he’s the one they were trying to cut open!”
“Nyla’s right, Keem. The ghost soldiers are bitter because they feel like they were abandoned—left to die while others got away to safety.”
“You want us to take you back there so you can help them feel better?” he asks sarcastically.
“No! I’m just saying…”
“This whole scenario reminds me of something,” Nyla says. She stops, and for a moment all we can hear is the faint trickling of water somewhere farther down the tunnel. After a moment Nyla haltingly begins:
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
“What’s that? Some kind of…prophecy?” I ask.
Nyla shakes her head and sloshes on. “It’s a poem. I had to memorize it for Remembrance Day.”
“Remembrance Day—what’s that?” asks Keem.
“You know—Veteran’s Day. It marks the end of World War One.” Nyla says the poem over again. “If ye break faith with us who die, we shall not sleep. Maybe they feel betrayed. Maybe that’s why they aren’t at peace.”
“So take it out on the Hessians—not us! Talk about a bunch of sore losers.”
“War isn’t a game, Keem,” Nyla says with an edge to her voice.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keem asks defensively.
“They didn’t lose a sports tournament—they lost their lives! Fighting for this country.”
“So? That’s what they signed up for. They weren’t drafted, they volunteered.”
“And I guess a jock like you would never enlist.”
“Why should I? This country’s at war with my religion—Uncle Sam doesn’t want me joining up. I’m the enemy, remember?”
“The war’s on terror—not Islam.”
“Oh yeah? Too bad most Americans don’t know the difference!”
Finally I spin around and hold up my hand so that the bright light stuns them both into silence. “All right, you guys—that’s enough!” Suddenly I hear something whimpering behind us. I know the sound didn’t come from Nyla or Keem—they’re heated, not sad or scared.
“What was that?” I ask.
“What was what?” Keem looks around warily.
“Shhh—listen.”
We freeze and strain our ears to hear the strange sound that caught my attention.
“It’s coming from over there,” whispers Nyla, pointing to a corner where two sewage tunnels intersect.
I slowly walk over to the dark corner. Something white is cowering near the ground. When the white bones disappear as I approach, I know it’s one of the dead. I tell Nyla and Keem to stay back. As I get closer, the crouching skeleton takes on flesh and becomes a crouching boy.
“Are you OK?” I ask.
“The light…” he says in a hoarse voice, his hand shielding his eyes.
I pull my sleeve down over my hand to dim the light generated by Nuru. “Is that better?”
He nods and slowly pushes himself up the curved wall of the tunnel.
“It’s you! You helped me escape.” The boy nods and tries to smile, but it seems he’s forgotten how to look—or feel—happy. “Thanks,” I say. “I owe you one.”
“You OK, D?” Keem’s deep voice booms down the tunnel, frightening the boy.
“It’s OK,” I assure him. “My friends are with me.” I call over my shoulder, “It’s the boy who helped me.” This time the boy forms a genuine smile. “What’s your name?” I ask.
“Billy,” he says, standing up straight.
“Is it all right if my friends come and meet you?”
Billy gives a nervous nod and tries to make himself more presentable. He runs a hand through his stringy hair and then pulls his jacket closed to hide the bayonet wound that tore open his stomach more than two hundred years ago.
I motion for Nyla and Keem to join us. They aren’t too sure how to greet a ghost, so they just nod and say, “Hey.” It’s clear that Keem doesn’t trust Billy at all, but I do.
&n
bsp; “So…you followed us?” I ask.
Billy nods and clears his throat. “I—I just wanted to ask…that is, I hoped you might…”
“Yes?”
“Could I—could I come with you?”
Before I can answer, he rushes on. “I won’t be no trouble, I swear I won’t. I just…I don’t want to live like this no more. We can’t eat, we can’t sleep—we can’t do nothing like we used to when we was alive. I’d give anything just to be able to shake your hand!” Billy hangs his head. “I didn’t know it would be like this when I joined up. When the end came, I was so angry—it wasn’t fair! This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. I’m just a boy…”
Keem grunts with contempt. “You were a soldier—now you’re a ghost. How do we know you’re not also a spy?”
“Keem!” Nyla steps in front of him and smiles at Billy. “Ignore him, Billy. Of course you can come with us.”
Determined to be heard, Keem steps around Nyla. “You’re not calling the shots, Nyla. This ghost isn’t one of us—he’s one of them! Have you forgotten everything they put us through?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear!” Billy protests. “I was just following orders…”
“Famous last words,” mutters Keem.
Nyla’s anger flares again. “You don’t know what it takes to break ranks like that. If a soldier did that today, he’d face a court martial.”
“He’s DEAD, Nyla!”
“Whatever…”
I see the panic in Billy’s eyes and know I can’t turn him away. “He did help me, Keem—without being asked. I don’t think Billy’s loyal to the nether beings—not anymore. Besides, he’s harmless now. The ghost soldiers lose their power once they leave the park.” I turn to Billy for confirmation. “Right?”
“Well…sort of.”
“Sort of?” Keem repeats Billy’s words with suspicion.
“Mostly. We’re strongest in the park because that’s where—I mean, that’s where it all happened.”
Ship of Souls Page 8
