by Amy Cross
Maybe the body's real, and maybe it's not. Either way, I just have to keep going.
Turning, I start limping along the tunnel again, but I can't help feeling that finding a body after just a few hours down here is a hell of a coincidence. I mean, if these tunnels really run to hundreds and hundreds of twisting miles, the odds of stumbling upon a corpse are crazy high. Even if all the stories about people getting lost down here are true, there still can't be more than three of four of the poor bastards. Maybe my mind is simply playing tricks on me, or maybe I really just happened to be incredibly, incredibly unlucky.
Either way, I can't help scratching my damaged right hand, despite the growing pain.
“It's not real,” I whisper, trying hard to forget the sensation of the bug on my flesh. “It's just a -”
Before I can finish, I feel the bug again, this time on my ankle. I reach down and swat it away, and then I hurry onward, hoping that this time the goddamn thing really is gone. Still, after just a couple of paces, I reach down and check to make absolutely certain that there's nothing crawling around near the top of my sock.
And then I feel it on the back of my neck.
Letting out a startled cry, I swat desperately to push the damn thing away, while turning and slamming back against the tunnel wall. Then I wait, breathless and panicked, convinced that the bug wasn't real in the first place. Or that the first bug was real, but the others were all in my mind.
Or that -
“You're not going to go mad,” I say out loud. So loud, in fact, that I'm startled to hear how small and empty my voice sounds down here in the dark. “You're going to keep your head together! Even if it means talking to yourself all the goddamn time, you're not going to go crazy!”
I wait, but at least now I don't feel any more bugs.
I don't know whether any of them were real, or even whether the dried corpse was real, but finally I turn and start walking again. I'm starting to tremble slightly, and I think maybe I'm on the verge of losing my mind. I don't even know how long I've been down in these tunnels now, but I feel certain that it's been several hours and that the sun must finally have risen above-ground. If I can find a tunnel with even the faintest glimpse of a crack of light, maybe I can somehow dig my way out of this place, although I know full well that most of the mapped tunnel sections run far too deep underground.
Then again, I might just find a -
Suddenly I trip again, falling hard and landing on yet another gnarled tree-root. I let out a gasp of pain, followed by a groan of frustration, and then I roll onto my back and stare up into the darkness for a moment.
I feel so weak, I could just stay down and wait for the inevitable.
I could stop fighting.
For a moment, that possibility actually feels faintly enticing, but I quickly realize that I have to keep moving. I'm getting weaker and weaker, though, so I roll onto my side and reach out to steady myself against the wall as I slowly, painfully get to my feet.
And that's when my fingertips run against what feels like a set of letters and numbers, carved into the tunnel's rocky wall.
Nineteen
Liam Cane
Mom screams, and this time her anguished voice fills the whole house. A moment later, she lets out a faint, strangled gurgle, and I can hear her fighting back for a moment before finally she falls silent.
For now.
She falls silent for now.
She'll scream again soon.
“Do you still think about them?” Doctor Ericsson asked me several times, back in my days at the hospital. “Don't be ashamed, Liam. It's normal to think about your parents.”
Standing in the darkened doorway, I look into the bedroom and stare at the bare, unmade bed. The farmhouse is silent now, and I've deliberately left the flashlight off because I don't like light in here. The mattress is the one from the spare room, and I dragged it through here when I found that the original mattress – the mattress with all the blood – had been removed. I guess the police took that one away. Some day, I should try to see if I can get it back.
Suddenly I hear Dad cry out behind me. I turn and look into the darkness, just in time to hear a shot ring out. Then his body drops to the floor with a heavy thud and the house falls silent again.
Except, it's not silent.
Not quite.
That damn fool boy is whimpering again. Or sobbing. Maybe sobbing's the right word. Either way, it's impossible to ignore the sound of his weakness, and finally I turn and make my way past the top of the stairs and over to the other bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, I can tell from here that the whimpering is coming from the closet in the corner. He sounds so pathetic and wretched, like a sniveling little weakling. I feel a faint ripple of anger in my belly. More than anything in the world, I want to go to that closet, rip the little bastard out, and beat him to death with my bare hands.
But he's not there. Not really. It's ten years now since he ran into this room to find a hiding place.
“What about your brother?” Doctor Ericsson asked during several of the sessions. “Do you think about how you had to hide from him?”
Suddenly another shot rings out, and there's another thud. At the same time, a ripple of sorrow moves heavily through my chest. If things had just turned out another way, if they'd turned out the way they were supposed to, everything else wouldn't have had to happen. We could all be so happy and together now. If the sheriff and his men hadn't shown up when they did, Mikey would have been able to carry out his orders. Mikey wasn't bad. He was just doing like he was told.
The same way I'm doing like I'm told.
“We haven't talked about our brother very much,” I remember Doctor Ericsson pointing out one day, during one of our big sessions toward the end of my time at the hospital. “I'd like to address that today, if you don't mind.”
“Ignore the past. You need to get some sleep. You have to be up again soon.”
“I know,” I whisper, barely summoning the energy to move my lips at all.
“They'll be looking at you.”
“I know.”
“Judging you.”
“I know.”
“Whispering about you.”
I swallow hard. “I know. It's just...”
My voice trails off.
“You're disappointed in yourself? You think you've failed?”
“When I was in the diner,” I continue, “I got this feeling, deep down, like suddenly I really thought she was going to be the one. I don't know why. There was just something about the way she squirmed while I was cutting her up.”
“I told you the marker wouldn't be in the first girl you tracked down, or the second or the third. It probably won't be in the twentieth or the thirtieth, even. But one day, you will find it, and then the kingdom of glory will open up for you and... Well, I don't need to tell you how it'll feel when you finally get back to them.”
“I know. And -”
Letting out a sudden gasp, I step back against the wall. For a fraction of a second, I feel a rushing sense of absolute completeness, as if finally everything is right with the world and I'm surrounded once again by the people I love. The sensation ends as abruptly as it began, but I know deep down that I was just granted a glimpse of the future that's waiting for me. My heart is racing and I want to feel it all again right now, but I don't deserve such happiness. Not yet. Not until I've done what is asked of me.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “Thank you so much.”
“It feels good, doesn't it? It feels right. But for that to happen, you need to do the other things. So go to bed, get some sleep, and prepare yourself for the hardships of tomorrow. And don't think about your time at the hospital. The hospital poisoned your mind, Liam.”
I stare at the closet for a moment longer, before turning and trudging back toward the master bedroom. The house is completely dark, but I know my way perfectly, and I don't even stop when I hear Mom's scream ring out again. Instead, I make my way into the room and start
getting undressed, leaving my blood-stained clothes on the floor as I finally climb onto the bare mattress. Folding my hands across my chest, I close my eyes.
I want to think about Doctor Ericsson again, but I mustn't.
After all, I know the hospital was bad for me.
Suddenly a shot rings out and I hear Dad's body fall to the floor. And then it starts all over again, as I hear Mom screaming next to me on the bed. I know she won't stop, not until I wake up in the morning, so I simply close my eyes and try to ignore her.
One day the screaming will stop and I'll get my family back.
Twenty
Ramsey Kopperud
“Maleficus,” I whisper, as my fingertips finish tracing the last of the carved letters. “Maleficus?”
I'm guessing that Maleficus is something bad, maybe something evil, although I don't know exactly what the word means. I don't even know for sure that I've managed to get all the letters right, since I still can't see a thing down here and I'm relying entirely on touch. I've run my fingers against the words over and over again, but it's still not easy to be sure that I'm getting them right.
“Diaboli maleficus,” I say out loud, putting together the two words I think I've managed to figure out so far. Whatever they mean, they don't sound particularly good, and I can't quite imagine why anyone would be carving words into the rocks down here in the tunnels. In fact, the whole thing is starting to feel creepier than ever.
I pause for a moment.
“Kids,” I murmur finally, trying to convince myself that a bunch of dumb kids must have come down here at some point and started messing around.
Kids or goths. That's all. Nothing worse than that.
Still, as I run my fingertips further down the wall, I realize I can feel plenty more words carved into the rocks, although I'm not sure there's really any point trying to decipher them. After all, everything so far seems to be in some other language, maybe Latin or something to do with some cult, and I feel like maybe I'm wasting time. I'm sure the people responsible for these carvings are long gone, but I bet they'd help me if they happened to still be down here. I'm sure they'd be friendly.
I mean, these words have to have been left behind by a bunch of people who were just messing around. Still, if somebody came into this part of the tunnel system, I can't be that far from an exit.
Turning, I start making my way along the tunnel again, still wincing slightly as I feel pains in my legs and chest. I've given up even trying to keep track of how long I've been down here, but it must be several hours and I'm certain morning must have come. Maybe it's even midday by now. Looking up, I hope to spot some crack of daylight breaking through the roof, but I see nothing at all and, a moment later, I feel tree roots brushing against my face. Finally I stop and listen to the silence for a moment longer, and then I realize that since I must be miles and miles from where I fell through, it might be worth trying to call for help.
“Hello!” I shout, hoping against hope that somebody might be able to hear me above-ground. “Help! I'm trapped down here! Hello?”
I wait, but all I hear is silence.
“Can you hear me? I need help!”
Again, there's no reply, and after a moment I realize that this is dumb. If anyone was up there and could hear me, then I'd be able to hear them in return. If I was anywhere near town, I'd hear cars rumbling overhead and people and all sorts of other noises. Plus, if I'm close enough to the surface to feel tree roots, I'd probably have started running into the foundations of buildings. I don't know exactly where I am, but I'm sure as hell not under Deal. At least, I'm definitely not under the main part of town. I might even -
Suddenly I hear a scratching sound behind me, and I turn, staring back into the darkness. I tell myself that I must have imagined the sound, but already it seems to be coming closer, and I swear it sounds exactly as if something is clambering along the passageway. My heart is pounding, but now I can hear another sound on top of the scratching.
Sniffing.
Something's sniffing and snorting, sounding half like a man and half like a pig. And whatever it is, it's getting closer.
I step back for a moment, but my whole body seems frozen by a sudden, throbbing sense of fear. My bones are too heavy to move, and I can feel wriggling ants crawling along my ribs as my heart starts beating faster than ever.
It's coming.
Whatever it is, it's coming straight for me. It's as if pure fear is curling along the tunnel and wrapping itself around my body, paralyzing my mind until finally my panicked body takes charge.
Turning, I start hurrying along through the darkness, trying not to stumble as I desperately struggle to keep ahead of whatever's making that scratching noise. It's almost as if somebody has let some kind of wild animal loose down here, and I can hear it getting closer and closer as I keep running while holding my arms out to make sure that I don't slam straight into one of the walls. I almost trip several times, but pure fear keeps me going and finally the sound of my pursuer drops away into the darkness, almost as if I'm leaving him – or it – behind.
Shaking with fear, I stumble and bump against the wall. I turn and look back into the darkness, but now all I hear is silence. Slowly, my mind takes control of my body again.
Maybe it was a dog.
Maybe the dog from earlier has somehow found his way down here, although that thing didn't really sound like a dog. Besides, what are the odds of the same dog making a surprise appearance twice in a row?
Or maybe I really am just losing my mind.
I stay completely still for a few more seconds, just in case the scratching sound returns, and then I turn to keep walking forward. I need to keep my head together. I'm still shaking slightly, but I feel much calmer, as if the fear was some kind of physical switch that was turned on and then – just as suddenly – got turned off again. I've been scared before, of course, but never in such a strong, binary way. For a few seconds back there, I felt more like an animal than a person.
“Damn it,” I whisper, shocked by how violently my body reacted to a simple noise in the darkness. “Hold your crap together, girl.”
Suddenly a shrill, ear-piercing scream rings out from somewhere behind me, filling the pitch-black passageway and forcing me to immediately clamp my hands over my ears. I have no idea what kind of creature could make such a noise, but it sounds as if something is in terrible pain, although after a moment I start to worry that maybe the pain is actually anger. Whatever it is, it's definitely not too close, but the sound gets louder and louder before fading away into a kind of guttural growl that eventually stops altogether.
I keep my hands over my ears for a moment longer, before slowly moving them away.
The darkness is completely silent again, but I can feel and hear my heart pounding in my chest. There's definitely something down here with me. Even if it's a dog or a pig, I really don't want to run into anything that could make such a horrific noise. Or that could cause something else to make a noise like that.
Turning, I start limping along, keeping my pace up in case I hear anything else in the darkness. I know I'm making plenty of noise now, since I'm out of breath and I keep almost tripping, but whatever's down here can't be that good at tracking or it'd have caught up to me already. At the same time, I don't have a particular idea of what the hell the thing looks like, or what it wants to do to me. I just have a memory of the fear that gripped my body, and a fear of that fear coming back.
A moment later, I hear a loud but distant bump.
I wait, waiting to hear the sound again so I can figure out whether it's coming closer or getting further away, but now the darkness has fallen silent again.
“Please,” I mouth silently, with tears in my eyes, “just get me out of here. I'll do anything you want, I'll even go home and never complain about anything again and I'll tell Mom I'm sorry, but just get me out of these tunnels.”
I don't even know who I'm expecting will answer that prayer. God, maybe. Mom. Dad, even
. Anyone will do, but I've been down here for hours now and -
Suddenly I feel it again.
The fear.
I try to push the sensation away, to tell myself that it's all in my head, but it's creeping through my chest again. I swear, I almost feel as if something is edging closer through the darkness, something that's bringing the fear and radiating it out toward me. Taking a deep breath, I tell myself to grow the hell up and stay calm, but there's nothing my mind can do.
My body is in charge now, and my body is reacting as if something absolutely terrifying is getting closer.
Forming my left hand into a fist, I try to stay calm. When that doesn't work, I do the same thing with my damaged hand, but even the pain isn't enough to drown out my fear. Whatever's causing this sensation, it's getting closer and closer, almost as if something is leaning its face toward mine through the darkness. I'm sweating now, and barely able to breath, and I don't dare make a noise.
There's no scratching or sniffing this time, but I know it's close.
Is that something's breath I can feel on my face? A gentle flutter on my left cheek as something inspects me up close in the darkness?
I wait.
Silence.
But the fear is shuddering in my chest, like the haze of a hot day. And I swear, I feel certain that if the lights all suddenly came on, I'd find another face just in chest just inches from mine.
And then, just as suddenly as it arrived, the fear starts to fade again. I'm still trembling, but less than before, much less. Less and less with each passing second, until I let out a sigh of relief.
A moment later, I hear a faint clicking sound. Something's foot, perhaps, brushing against a rock just a few feet away. I wait again, but the fear is really subsiding now, as if it was a tide that has begun to go down. Maybe it was all in my head the whole time, or maybe there was something and it came close and then, with no warning, it slipped away again.
Staring into the darkness ahead, I listen for any hint that something might be staring back at me.
