by Sarah Snyder
“In here!” Maverick shouted from deeper inside the room.
The door on the far wall, previously sealed with a computerized control panel, was opened and lit from within. Sawyer shivered – the room kept cooler than the rest of the building by a large vent in the ceiling – and looked around the stark white, sterile laboratory. Sheets of plastic draped over aluminum tables, glass beakers and sealed dishes rested on an aluminum cart in the corner beside him. Microscopes lines a far wall, some holding samples as if those operating them were called away during their studies. A wall to his right was covered in shelves, filled with small tubes labeled as soil samples at varying dates and depths.
“How did you get in here? I thought the door was locked.”
“That portable computer.” Maverick leaned over a table to his left studying a computer monitor but turned his head as Sawyer entered. “It controls everything in the bunker, including the door locks. There is a tunnel back here that leads to the storage building.”
“What is this place?” Sawyer moved deeper into the laboratory.
“Cold storage for soil samples.” Maverick answered with an excited light in his eyes. “You are not going to believe what I found.”
“Survivors?”
“No, not yet, but you need to look at this.” Maverick bent over the computer and pulled up a series of files. “The computer in the outer room must not have been used. This one had much more information.”
“Can you upload the data to the Anastasis?”
“Of course.” Maverick answered with a confused pout. “Why?”
“I think we’ve wasted enough time chasing ghosts. It’s time to get out of here.” Sawyer ran a hand through his hair, the painkillers doing their job and spreading a sweet numbness over the pain of his concussion.
“There is so much information here. I need a few more hours to sift through it.” Maverick insisted.
“So, upload it and go through it onboard.” Sawyer turned to leave the room.
“Wait, Sawyer, we can’t leave yet. Don’t you see what all of this is? Why would they keep soil samples in cold storage?” Maverick questioned with poorly suppressed excitement.
“Mav, I’m not arguing with you about this.” Sawyer sighed and turned back to his brother. “Wil is hurt, I’m exhausted, and it is time to go.”
“You aren’t listening to me.”
“We need to go.”
“Sawyer, for once shut up and listen to me!” Maverick screamed with a frustrated toss of his hands into the air.
“Okay.” Sawyer blinked at his brother’s uncustomary loss of temper. He’s seen Maverick filled with rage, frustration, and teenage angst, but never the passion he saw in him then, as if he were lit from within. “What is it?”
“Look around, Sawyer. They wouldn’t care about keeping these samples in cold storage if they were mining for ore. There’s no need to keep soil cold.” Maverick explained. “They wouldn’t need temperature control unless there was a biological agent involved.”
“Biological agent?” Sawyer’s drug-numbed mind slowly wrapped around Maverick’s conclusions.
“They weren’t mining for ore.” Maverick’s smile spread. “They were testing soil samples for biologicals; looking for lifeforms in the soil. You said there may have been an outbreak here – some sort of illness – maybe that’s what they were studying.”
“How do you know? None of us know anything about this type of lab.” Sawyer shook his head with a furrowed brow. “Besides, nothing can live in the soil here. It’s a dead area from mining.”
“He’s right.” Zander mumbled from the doorway, followed cautiously by Wil with his arm in a sling. “These are biological samples and scanners; they would not be here for kako petra.”
“It gets better.” Maverick turned to the computer screen. “You remember the back-entrance Zander insisted they would have? Well, I found it.” Maverick stepped back to allow the others to see the map on the screen, pointing to sections as he continued his lecture. “The entire mining system is collapsed and has been for some time – sink holes, cave ins, and natural phenomena over the years – but there is a section here reinforced and maintained.”
“Only the one area?” Zander questioned.
“Yes, maybe a mile of tunnel system in total and better still,” Maverick paused for effect, “there is power there.”
“Power?” Sawyer sighed at the information, knowing before Maverick continued what was coming.
“Yes, as soon as I got the computers up and running, it showed a direct link to the computers in the mines. It looks like they are running it on generators. There could be survivors down there.” Maverick seemed to grow frustrated by the silence following his information and groaned. “Didn’t you hear anything I said?”
“I heard you.” Sawyer assured.
“And?”
“I’m considering our options.” Sawyer informed.
“Our options? This mine was not for kako petra. They found something else. This is what the Administration wanted; whatever is in this room. And, there is an area of mines with power, which means there is a chance of survivors. What other option is there?”
“Is that enough of a neon sign for you to stay and investigate?” Zander questioned.
“What are you talking about?” Maverick’s furrowed brow cleared as realization struck. “You want to run.”
“This isn’t about running, Mav. Wil is in no condition for spelunking.” Sawyer posed his first doubt of Maverick’s plan.
“Not especially.” Wil chuckled painfully.
“I can go in Wil’s place.” Maverick offered.
“Great, problem solved.” Wil shakily rose to his feet with a nod. “I’m going to load the solar all-terrain into the cargo hold. It can’t hurt to take her with us.”
He turned to Maverick doubtfully, disliking the idea of his little brother underground. “Don’t you have to run the computers?”
“I’m only uploading the information to the Anastasis, which works all by itself, so I have nothing to do except monitor it until it finishes.” Maverick shrugged. “Besides, I want to see what these mines look like.”
Sawyer sighed, the movement spreading a warm flush throughout his tender body as the painkillers took full effect. His earlier worry over his and Wil’s injuries diminished as he looked toward Zander’s hopeful face with submission. “Fine – one look. Whether we find survivors or not, we are done after this. Deal?”
“A fair compromise.” Zander agreed. “There were some headlamps in the storage room; there should be enough for the three of us.”
“No, you stay here with Wil.” Sawyer would tolerate his brother’s company, but he’d be damned if Zander’s lack of survival skills and creepy stealth steps were going with him into a dark tunnel. Sensing an argument from Zander’s unhappy pout, Sawyer was quick to form a logical purpose for his request. “Wil shouldn’t be alone, he lost a lot of blood. You are the most qualified to handle any problems he has.”
“That makes sense.” Zander nodded with a pout.
“Here.” Maverick handed a device to Zander and another to Sawyer before placing one of his own over his ear. The small, silver ring fit snugly over the ear with a piece extending inside the canal and another pointing outward. “Communication devices; I found them in the back room. They’re built to work in the mines.”
“I’ll get the headlamps.” Zander nodded.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sawyer asked after Zander left.
“Of course.” Maverick waved off his older brother’s concern. “Besides, better me than Zander, right?”
“Truth.” Sawyer sighed and shuddered at the thought of the tall, lanky man’s unpracticed strides in a mine shaft.
Zander returned quickly with two flashlights attached to head bands and a pair of heavy, khaki jackets. “It will be colder in the mines. I thought these might help.”
“Good idea. Thanks, Zander.” Sawyer nodded.
“I’ll continue to study the samples Maverick found in here while you are gone. Perhaps, I can see something he did not.” Zander sat at the computer terminal, prepared to begin his self-appointed task.
“Good idea.” Sawyer checked a light for power and – upon seeing it lit – donned the head gear it was attached to. “We won’t be long. One look in the cavern and then we are out of here.”
“I’ll have the Anastasis ready to fly when you get back.” Wil promised as they passed each other in the bunker’s main doorway.
The sun was setting as Sawyer and Maverick crossed the camp to the rear entrance to the mines. The temperatures faded with the sun, offering the land a chance to heal as shaded areas dampened and cracks filled with shifting sand. A final blaze of light flickered over the camp, casting deeper shadows, before darkness settled over the camp. The twilight was always Sawyer’s favorite time of day, when there was only a hint of heated moisture in the air. The thickness clung to him, cooling his overheated flesh. He hesitated at the secondary mine entrance, blocked by a four-by-four-foot aluminum structure with a heavy door.
Feeling as if they were being watched, Sawyer looked over his shoulder toward the bunker they’d left behind. He watched for stirring shadows, but the only movement was that of the mist as it wafted across the emptiness.
“Everything okay?” Maverick asked, looking back as Sawyer did.
“Yeah, fine.” Sawyer brushed off his anxiety and opened the door with an echoing creak. “Well, if someone is down there, they know we’re coming.”
“Good.” Maverick nodded, happy with his innocent belief the survivors would be welcoming.
A short flight of stairs led into a large cavern, filled with mining equipment and two of the Administration drills sitting to the side. The large room tapered off to a single entrance deeper in the darkness, lit occasionally with flickering, electric bulbs hanging from a wire running the length of the walls. Sawyer tapped on one of the lights, making it flare brighter before settling back to its dim standard. “Glad we brought lights.” He flicked on his head lamp and waited for Maverick to do the same.
The added light revealed the walls of the cavern in greater detail. Their smooth surfaces were covered in graffiti – symbols, words, and images – clearly left behind by the miners who spent most of their time in the darkness. Sawyer placed a hand on an image of the Administration symbol, surrounded by a red circle and slashed through with the same color. “Guess they weren’t fans of the Administration either.” Sawyer mumbled.
“Apparently.” Maverick shone his light upward, revealing the catwalk along the ceiling and the myriad of threatening messages directed toward the Administration.
“Do you feel that?” Sawyer asked, wiping the sweat from his brow. “It’s as hot down here as outside in mid-day. I think it might be hotter.”
“That isn’t right, the caverns should be fifty degrees Fahrenheit. What is going on down here?”
Sawyer turned away from the dark words and images, stripping off his jacket before continuing deeper into the mine.
They followed the tunnel until it opened into a second cavern, much smaller than the last but still covered with the same graffiti on the walls and ceiling. The soil shifted around him, different than what he’d been walking on moments before; softer. Before he could mention the odd texture to his brother, the ground began to shake. It was slight at first, only a rumble beneath his feet, but the tremor increased until rocks and dirt were falling around them. Sawyer looked up at the catwalk overhead, like the one in the previous cavern but missing large segments. He glanced around the area, seeing the fallen rocks, dirt, and aluminum randomly piled up from previous tremors. A rock fell beside Maverick, nearly hitting him in the head and Sawyer looked up in time to see a large segment of soil break free overhead. “Maverick, move!” Sawyer shouted, bolting toward his brother and shoving him out of the way as the dirt fell.
Sawyer thought he was fast enough to save them both, but he’d overestimated his speed with his current injuries. Pain shot out from his ribs at the movement and contact, rendering him slow and bent over as the ceiling came down on top of him. Sawyer looked up through the shower of dirt, seeing the horror in his brother’s gray eyes before darkness surrounded him.
“Sawyer!” Sawyer struggled up from the depths of unconsciousness, pulled from oblivion by the desperate cries of his brother.
“Sawyer, please!” He reached out toward Maverick, wanting to calm and comfort his brother, but his arms were plastered to his side. He opened his mouth to call out but closed it quickly as it filled with soil. His conscious mind came to him slowly, shifting through the dirt and ash surrounding him until he became aware of his surroundings. Memories flashed across the back of his eyelids: the tremors, the cavern walls collapsing, the large deposit of dirt and rock over his brother’s head falling, and his own instant reaction of pushing him out of the way. By the way his chest ached, and his breath came in small, dirt-filled sniffs, Sawyer knew he was only moments from suffocation.
Maverick’s soft sobbing reached him, louder than it was before. Sawyer heard the scratching of nails on rock and knew his brother was close by and desperately trying to free him from what might be his grave. The dirt around him felt softer, more liquid than solid, which made it more difficult to breathe through its thickness. Sawyer moved his hands where they were trapped at his sides, pulling them up his body with effort. As he reached his thighs, Sawyer stopped, feeling the small, rounded seeds in his pocket. Carl’s ghostly form appeared on the back of his eyelids, handing him the seeds of Nelumbo Noctis Ignus, the Night Fire:
Carl opened Sawyer’s fingers, letting the seeds fall into his palm. “If you knew nothing of these seeds, you would condemn them as useless. Your fathers took them for granted and condemned this world to Earth’s fate. I gave you knowledge – I gave you truth – and now you know; they have purpose. Without purpose, there is no life.”
Sawyer looked down at the dozen small pebbles in his hand as Carl released him. His head wrapped around Carl’s words with ribbons of uncertainty, as if on the verge of a great awareness he hadn’t mastered. Carl turned away and stared out into the darkness; “So many! They will bloom tonight.” Carl’s awed tone drew Sawyer’s focus to the buds floating in the puddles.
“They bloom that fast?” Sawyer slipped the seeds into his pocket.
“It doesn’t take time for life to bloom,” Carl’s eyes were filled with a knowing only those with a lost reality could understand. “It only takes the right conditions and a little spark to get it going.”
Sawyer thought of Carl’s words, his determination to hold on to hope even when all seemed lost. Maverick’s cries shifted to screams as he called out for Sawyer – for his brother to return – igniting the spark Sawyer needed to fight. If a fragile flower could rise through the driest grounds, the thickest mud, and bloom on a puddle of water, then Sawyer could get out of a pile of dirt.
Sawyer moved his legs and arms as if swimming, feeling like he was moving through quicksand. The harder he struggled, the louder Maverick’s cries became until they were right above him. Sawyer shoved his hand through the dirt, feeling nothing more to grab onto. Instead, a warmth gripped him as Maverick’s hand clenched around his with a tightness Sawyer feared would break his fingers.
Maverick pulled as Sawyer kicked his legs and used his free hand to push himself from the debris. Kneeling on the ground, Sawyer bowed his head – dust dripping from his black hair stained gray from residue – and struggled to catch his breath. The sleeves of his black tee shirt were tattered from the pull of rocks and debris and both of his knees were exposed through his khakis. The legs of his pants ended in frayed edges around his gray dust coated boots. He was bleeding from his head and his chest but – whether from shock, adrenalin, or his heavy dose of painkillers – Sawyer felt no pain.
Maverick’s arms wrapped around him, knocking onto his back.
“I thought you were dead.” Maverick sobbed into his s
houlder.
“Me, too, little brother.” Sawyer grunted as Maverick’s weight on his chest became unbearable. “Mav, you’re crushing me.”
Maverick rose to his knees, covering his face with his mud and dirt stained hands. “You have to stop, Sawyer.” Maverick looked down at Sawyer through his fingers before lowering his hands.
“Stop?” Sawyer struggled to his feet.
Maverick took a moment to stand and swipe at the moisture left behind by his momentary emotional reaction, leaving a streak of brown across both of his cheeks. “You have to stop protecting me; you have to stop. You nearly got yourself killed.”
“I can’t do that.” Sawyer refused.
“Why; because you think this is better? How do you think it feels when everyone else gets hurt because of you?” Maverick’s lip trembled. “What would I have done alone down here, knowing you were dead beneath that pile of dirt?”
“I wasn’t hurt because of you, Mav. I made my choice, knowing the consequences.” Sawyer assured.
“Of course, it was because of me; you pushed me out of the way to protect me.” Maverick argued as another tear slipped through. “You protected me and were hurt, Carl sacrificed himself for me, mom died for me; I can’t take it anymore! Nobody else gets hurt because of me!”
Sawyer’s mind picked apart Maverick’s ranting, unable to move past four words; “mom died for you?”
“She and Ella were hiding in the cabin; they were safe.” Maverick revealed with a reluctant sigh. “They were safe until I came in and the savages saw me. Mom came out to save me and they got her, then they got Ella when she screamed. They died because I went back for them.”
“You don’t know that, Mav. You don’t know they wouldn’t have found them anyway.” Sawyer denied through the thickness of his own emotion.
“They died because of me, Sawyer! I know they did, and dad knew it too, why else do you think he hated me?” Maverick demanded. “I told him what happened – I told him everything – and he blamed me!”
“Dad didn’t hate you, Mav.” Sawyer whispered the denial, losing his composure in the face of his brother’s emotional outburst.
