by Leon Logos
“That’s because you had a shitty one,” Cackle said. “I just hope he wasn’t as shit as you. But that can’t be possible, can it?”
“Could you quit bashing on me?” she chided. “This is why I hate you! No matter what I do, you find some fault with me and use it to put me down. You’re never going to grow up, I just know it.”
“You’re the one that’s full of faults,” Cackle countered. “Don’t blame somebody for calling you out when you deserve it in the first place.”
“I don’t!”
“That’s debatable.”
As much as she wanted to argue back-and-forth with him, it wasn’t conducive to success. She needed to compose herself and focus on what was really important: finding the trapdoor and not yielding to the temptation of combating Cackle’s incorrigible, rather habitual insolence. As long as she kept her mouth shut, Cackle wouldn’t be able disparage her.
For the next twenty minutes, she felt like she was making slow progress. But progress nonetheless. She could sense it was close, as if the skull was calling to her, it’s voice masquerading as the low, reverberating droning that was ceaselessly audible throughout the tunnels. She was so concentrated on finding the way that she didn’t even realize that the stench was worsening and the cold was exacerbating. Serenity disregarded it, thinking that it was a sign that the trapdoor was close rather than some irrational, portentous warning. The closer to their salvation, the stronger their discomfort. Of course, discomfort was purely subjective. The only thing bothering Cackle, or causing him discomfort, was her lack of competence. The two of them mutually did not like each other; this was established long ago. Yet they found themselves forced to be with one another frequently.
They walked on for what felt like another two miles. Cackle’s patience was wearing thin, and so was hers; and her chagrin was merely compounded by Cackle, who took every opportunity he could to scold her. But at a point in their trip, even he got weary of it, not uttering a sound.
“You’re unusually quiet,” Serenity spoke with an inquiring tone.
“I thought it would make you find the place faster,” he replied. “Never before have I been so wrong. WHERE ARE WE?!”
“Shh!” she hissed frantically. “Keep your voice down!”
“WHY?” Cackle said obnoxiously, not listening to her.
“There’s nobody down here but us! That’s ‘cause there’s no reason to be here!”
“I told you, I’ll find it!” she urged. “Just, chill out!”
“You keep saying that! When will you really mean it?!”
“Dude, you’re such a crybaby!” she rebuked. “Kyler’s younger than you, yet he’s nine times more mature than you.”
“Shut up,” Cackle scowled. “Find it.”
She kept her eyes peeled, satisfied at her victory. Somehow, she had managed to silence Cackle. Serenity knew her words had reached him, having an impact. He must’ve realized that her words were true. And not because she said it, but because the others had frequently called him a “child” when his wild behavior caused them annoyance. Serenity’s words had been mirrored a couple times before in the past.
During a period of thought, she wondered what had happened prior to their arrival. Cackle denigrating her wasn’t unusual; but he was doing it more than usual, with a higher level of ferocity. Something was troubling him. She could feel it. But it wasn’t the right time to ask.
“Thank God,” Serenity exhaled in immense relief. “Over there.”
Cackle shined his flashlight at the wall, spray-painted with the skull. “The narrow path to the left—go in there,” she said.
Cackle obeyed without protest, bending down as he sidled in. He pointed the flashlight upward, revealing the trapdoor.
“Up there?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “Be careful when you go up. There might be guards in the cells or something. We can’t be caught.”
“No shit,” Cackle murmured, pushing the trapdoor open with a single thrust.
The trapdoor lurched backwards violently, producing a loud noise.
What did I just say?! she reproached in her head.
“It was lighter than I thought,” Cackle said defensively, climbing up easily with virtually the strength of a single arm.
She used both of hers, as they were available. The jailhouse cellblock had its usual gloomy, musty atmosphere. It was quiet, which was a good sign. Her eyes took time adjusting to the dim lights that appeared three times brighter than they actually were. They had been in the dark for quite a while.
Cackle didn’t require her aid to find Kyler. He carelessly rose to his feet, ambling through the cellblock. Serenity caught up to him quickly, her eyes immediately landing on Kyler’s cell. Cackle stopped by it, gazing down at his brother with an expressionless face, strikingly analogous to Kyler himself.
Her stomach lurched at the sight of him. It hadn’t even been a week since she last saw him, yet he looked way worse. Gaunt, thin, and lethargic, Kyler lay at the corner of his cell, curled up like a ball. His eyes were shut, his cheeks hollowed. It looked as if he had lost fifteen pounds, his body alarmingly skeletal. Kyler’s clothes were torn and tattered, and she spotted new bruises and scratches that weren’t there before. Patches of his skin were abysmally blackish-purple. Though, the hue of his skin was a few tones lighter due to lack of sunlight, perhaps. It looked sallow.
“Dude looks like a zombie,” Cackle remarked. “Yo! Wake up!”
Serenity glowered at Cackle, angry at his callousness. Kyler slowly opened his eyes. She shuddered at the sight of them; they were zombie-ish. Dead, dejected, and forlorn. Kyler observed Cackle for a while, perhaps ascertaining if he was hallucinating or not.
“Took you long enough,” Kyler slurred, eyes half-closed.
“You don’t look so cool anymore, do you?” Cackle scoffed.
“No food…or water…?” Kyler asked listlessly.
“No, I’m sorry,” Serenity confessed, twinges of guilt assaulting her. “When was the last time they fed you? You look terrible.”
“I haven’t…eaten…days…” Kyler murmured.
Serenity turned to Cackle fiercely.
“The first thing we’re doing is feeding him,” she said forcefully.
“No,” Cackle refuted. “The first thing we’re doing is stowing him somewhere he won’t be found. Then you can feed your baby.”
Cackle reached into his pockets and took out the key. He fit it into the keyhole, twisting and turning for a good ten to fifteen seconds. Serenity’s heart sank, hoping that she had stolen the right key.
To her relief, the key worked fine. There was a click and the cell door swung open. Serenity pushed Cackle out of the way, walking in first. She crouched down next to Kyler.
“Can you walk?” she asked him.
“No idea,” Kyler said, struggling to even sit upright. “I can’t…remember…last time I stood…”
“You’re not going to make me carry your weak ass,” Cackle groaned.
Kyler didn’t respond, his lack of energy and strength limiting his ability to verbally communicate. Serenity turned back to Cackle. She knew Kyler was incapable of walking; even if he could stand, there was no way he’d be able to last the whole journey back. Somebody had to carry him, it was inevitable. And as much as she wished she could do it herself, she doubted she was strong enough. Cackle was his only hope.
“We’ll alternate,” Serenity decided. “We have to carry him. Look at him, Cackle. He probably doesn’t even have the strength to lift a fork!”
Cackle strode up to Kyler, disgruntled.
“Fine, but I’m not letting you carry him,” Cackle said. “He lost a lot of weight, but you’re probably too weak to even last five minutes with him on your back. You’d drop him, and he’d probably die.”
Serenity didn’t have any complaints, rising to her feet. Cackle grabbed ahold of Kyler. He shifted his weight to his right leg and stuck it between Kyler’s legs. He grabbed Kyler’s ri
ght hand with his left and draped it over his shoulder. Cackle’s head was now under Kyler’s right armpit, his arm wrapped around the back of Kyler’s right knee. Cackle squatted down and positioned Kyler’s body on his shoulder. Serenity them with reservations.
“Why’s he slung over your shoulder like that?” Serenity said.
“You’ve never seen a fireman’s carry?!” Cackle growled. “We’ve literally learned this a long time ago! I’m not gonna piggy-back him!”
Kyler groaned in discomfort, as Cackle recklessly handled him.
“Careful, he’s wounded!” she implored.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever! Let’s get out of here,” Cackle said indifferently.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Thankfully, Cackle didn’t need her as a guide anymore. Somehow, he had been capable of retracing their steps, finding the way back to the manhole by himself, and without her assistance. Knowing how impetuous Cackle was, it was certainly plausible that he would drop Kyler out of agitation in the event of a quarrel. This was something she wanted to prevent.
Cackle abruptly hissed at her to stop. With his hands full, she had been leading the way this time, the flashlight in her possession. Serenity was just about to question him when she heard it too. Growing voices, reverberating and bouncing along the walls, and reaching their eardrums. It was coming from the direction they were walking, steadily approaching.
Instinctively, both of them retreated to a small, arched, dark corner to the right. Serenity crouched down and turned off the flashlight, holding in her breath. It was a tight space, and Cackle just barely fit in with Kyler. They were getting louder and more comprehensible. Now that the voices were coherent, they could hear what they were saying. There were two of them, speaking loudly.
“It smells like rotten cabbage down here,” voice one complained.
“Aye,” voice two concurred. “But I reckon it ain’t a sewer system.”
“What do you reckon it is, then?” voice one asked.
“The Council suddenly orders us to patrol these tunnels, yet they don’t tell us why!”
“I never even knew this place existed, and I’ve been here twice as long as you,” said voice two, who was older than his partner.
“Hey, maybe these are where the intruders are hiding out!” voice one inferred, with enthusiasm. “Will we get promoted if we catch them?”
“Most likely,” voice two said, tone lacking in interest. “But I haven’t gotten a promotion in fifteen years. I’ve got no hope.”
“This is your chance, then, ain’t it?” voice one said.
It was at this moment when they saw the lights. They grew brighter and larger, gradually nearing the spot they were at. In no time, the two patrols passed directly by them. During the one-second window, when the three of them were in sight, the light from the flashlights sufficiently discovering them, the patrols obliviously didn’t capitalize. Absorbed in conversation, they didn’t notice them at all. Serenity got to her feet after fifteen seconds, but Cackle kicked her, signaling her to stay down. She knew he was being extra cautious, and she couldn’t blame him. For two whole minutes, they remained in the tiny space.
“All right, start walking,” Cackle said, hushed.
She got to her feet, creeping out of the space and back onto the main path. She shined the light behind her, ascertaining that nobody was there. The two patrols were long gone. And hopefully, they’d stay that way.
However, there were more pressing matters to ruminate about. This confirmed that the tunnels were not so secret. At least, not anymore. The Council had ordered them to be searched. But why? Had they discovered she had been using them? Or simply considered them to be a potential hiding spot for the intruders? One thing was definite; traveling through the tunnels would not be so easy anymore. Now that they had extracted Kyler, however, she doubted she’d be down here ever again anyway.
“I would’ve figured this underground place was a secret,” Cackle remarked. “I gave you too much praise; I though you discovered something.”
“I didn’t, a friend of mine did,” she said, keeping her eyes forward.
“There you go with ‘friend’ again,” Cackle said distastefully.
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said, preempting another squabble.
“Yeah, you hate hearing the truth,” said Cackle snidely.
She ignored him, crossing a tiny stream of dirty water to make a left. Kyler murmured something incoherent, piquing her interest.
“What?” she asked, turning her head.
“Face forward and don’t stop,” Cackle snapped.
They finally reached the ladder, twenty minutes after their encounter with the two guards. The manhole cover was closed. Flashlight in her right hand and pointed directly upward; she climbed the ladder with one hand. With the same hand, she pushed the manhole cover open and moved it to the side. This required all of her strength, something Cackle gibed at.
The fresh air alleviated her senses, as she ascended face-first to ground level. Squatting down, she turned around and pointed the light downward for Cackle and Kyler. She would’ve believed it to be a complex task, climbing a ladder with somebody on your back. However, Cackle managed to accomplish it, using his free hand to ascend without any issues.
“Okay,” Serenity spoke, standing tall. “I don’t know how we’re going to do this, but Kyler’s a known prisoner around here; if anybody sees him with us, we’re screwed as well. We need to find a place to keep him.”
“That’s your job,” said Cackle. “You’ve been here longer than me.”
“I don’t know,” she whimpered, racking her brains for recourse. “I can maybe keep him in my chamber, but all the rooms in the living quarters are cleaned by maids when we’re gone. Before lockdown, they were. And it’ll be too damn difficult to get him there. Do you guys have dorms in the barracks?”
“Yeah, but I’ve never seen them,” Cackle said. “I doubt I can keep him there. Hell no. In the damn soldier dormitories?”
“The farm,” she considered. “There’s a barn out at the farm. Nobody lives there but animals. Maybe there are farmers, but I don’t remember seeing one when I was there. I can’t think of anywhere else.”
“Is it far?”
“Umm, yeah, kinda,” she shrugged. “But we still have a problem; how we are going to transport him without him being seen?”
“I’ve got an idea,” Cackle said, setting Kyler down. “Wait here.”
“H-here?” she blinked. “How long? Where are you going?”
“Just wait here! I’ll be gone a minute!”
Not to her surprise, five minutes had passed and Cackle was nowhere to be seen. She sat down next to Kyler, despite the soggy condition of the ground. Thankfully the gardens were never patrolled; at least, never to her observation or experience. But even if they were, she doubted any of the guards would see them under the bridge. They were well-obscured. Kyler lay on his back, his eyes open, gazing up at the stars blankly. In her lifetime, she had noticed Kyler stargazing a couple of times. It was one his many idiosyncrasies; not that stargazing was a peculiar habit, but it was certainly strange by the brothers’ standards. She wouldn’t have expected looking up into space to be something Kyler was intrigued in. His mind was usually preoccupied on the family, and the job: killing Aurelians.
“You think you can hang on just a little longer?” she asked.
“Yep,” he croaked.
“In case you didn’t hear, we’re going to move you somewhere you won’t be found. And then, we’ll feed you there. ‘Kay?”
“Desmos…” Kyler said tersely, his voice raspy as result of a parched mouth. “Find him…time running out…hurry…”
“We’re trying,” she assured. “I’ve been trying. But now that the others are here, I think he can be found. I know he can.”
As confident as she was, she had her doubts. It seemed she had made zero progress with finding Desmos. And that was because it was true. She tried to convince her
self that her failure was rational, considering even the others hadn’t been able to get any leads through brief investigation in the barracks. However, they had only been here a single night. Serenity had plenty of days to uncover his location, and she needed more.
Serenity noticed Kyler shivering discreetly, undoubtedly freezing. She had been too preoccupied with more pressing matters to give the cold temperature a thought. In the jailhouse it was still cold, but still warmer than outside. Kyler’s hoodie and joggers were torn up and in poor condition. He wasn’t even wearing shoes. The whereabouts of his shoes were unknown, and frankly irrelevant at this point. His black socks had holes of varying sizes.
She removed her jacket. To her memory, Kyler wasn’t usually affected by cold climate. But here he was, feeling appreciable discomfort by it. With a layer of insulation off, the icy breeze nipped at her more fiercely. She spread it over him, like a blanket. Given the weak, feeble state his body and health were in, she presumed this inadequate constitution engendered his current intolerance to the cold weather.
Fifteen minutes went by and Cackle had still not returned. She was beginning to grow not just impatient, but worried. Not worried about Cackle’s wellbeing, but his potential inability to come back with an idea. Or to come back at all, leaving them all alone and unaided. She wouldn’t admit it openly, but she needed Cackle. They needed him; his capacity to lead them out of harm’s way through his cunning skill set and his guise as an Aurelian soldier. He wasn’t preferable, but he was all she had at the moment. She couldn’t transport Kyler all by herself, as much as she wished she possessed the strength and capability.
A half-an-hour passed, and she lost all hope. For an ephemeral moment, she was considering taking Kyler and leaving. But just as the last rays of hope diminished, they robustly grew back with revitalizing vigor. Cackle came hurrying down the slope, pushing a wagon that was the size of a sofa. In the wagon was a tattered white blanket that looked ancient and diseased; As un-Aurelian as something could be.
“What took you so long?!” she said irritably.
“I got lost!” he fired back. “This farm you were talking about was farther than you made it seem like!”
