The Bridge to Never Land

by Dave Barry

“What is this?” she said, her voice echoing off the hard stone walls.

  “Mister Magill’s private dungeon,” said Aidan.

  Sarah pulled herself forward and got to her feet.

  “Seriously,” she said. “Why is this here?”

  “It must be a mine,” said Aidan. “Or it was a mine. It’s old. No lights. No equipment. Who knows how long this has been here.”

  “Still think I’m crazy?”

  “You don’t really want me to answer that.”

  Sarah dragged her heel on the dusty floor, drawing a line from one side of the tunnel to the other.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Marking our entrance,” she said, pointing to the small hole in the wall they’d crawled through. It would be easy to miss.

  “Now what?” said Aidan.

  “We look for clues,” said Sarah.

  “Clues?”

  “There has to be something. Magill got us this far. Somehow he’ll let us know what to do.” She pointed to her right. “We’ll start this way.” Shouldering the backpack, Sarah started into the tunnel, swinging her flashlight back and forth, the beam painting bright lines across the dark stone. She’d gone no more than fifteen feet when she stopped suddenly, her flashlight aimed at the tunnel ceiling directly overhead.

  “There it is,” she said.

  Aidan, joining her, looked up. Sarah’s light was shining on the image of a star, drawn in faded white paint. Next to it was an arrow, pointing in the direction they’d been moving.

  “Let’s go,” said Sarah.

  “Wait,” said Aidan.

  His sister looked at him impatiently and snapped, “What?”

  “I just…I’m wondering if this is a good idea. We’re getting farther and farther from where we came in.”

  “We’re also getting closer and closer to whatever Magill’s leading us to.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I just don’t like this, that’s what.”

  “So what do you want to do? Stay here?”

  Aidan looked back into the blackness of the tunnel.

  “No,” he said. “Not alone.”

  “Then come on.” She turned and started walking again, Aidan following unhappily. They walked for several minutes in silence, Sarah sweeping her flashlight beam continuously over the walls and ceiling, Aidan glancing back often, the only sound in the tunnel the echoes of their scuffling footsteps. After about fifty yards the tunnel was intersected by another, branching off to the left. On the ceiling they found another painted star and arrow, this time pointing to the left. With her heel, Sarah drew an arrow into the dusty floor, pointing back to where they’d come from.

  The new tunnel was slightly smaller, but still cavernous.

  “How far do you plan on going?” said Aidan.

  “That’s up to Mister Magill.”

  “But I mean, if we don’t find something…at some point we’re going to turn back, right?”

  “Listen,” she said, swinging her flashlight beam toward Aidan’s face, “if you don’t—”

  Aidan screamed.

  Sarah jerked violently, nearly dropping the flashlight.

  “Do not do that!” she said. “What is wrong with—”

  “I saw eyes!” interrupted Aidan, breathless, terrified. “We have to get out of here now.”

  “What are you talking about? What eyes?”

  “Yellow eyes. Right when you moved your flashlight, I saw them. Over there!” He shined his flashlight ahead. They both looked, but the flashlight revealed only the empty tunnel, fading into blackness.

  “There’s nothing there,” she said.

  “There was. I’m telling you. A pair of yellow eyes, close to the ground.”

  “You imagined it, ’cause you’re scared.”

  “Okay, listen,” said Aidan. “We’ll both turn off our lights.”

  “And that’s going to accomplish what?”

  “Then I’ll turn mine back on. But this time we’re both looking straight ahead.”

  “Aidan…”

  “Just turn off your light, okay?”

  Sarah sighed and switched off her flashlight, as did Aidan. They now stood in total blackness.

  “I really don’t see what—”

  “Shh!” Aidan hissed. “Just wait.”

  Ten seconds passed. Twenty.

  Aidan turned on his light, the beam filling the long tunnel.

  Nothing. Cobwebs, some dust swirling in the air, but no yellow eyes.

  “Satisfied?” she said.

  “No. I saw something.”

  “Or not,” said Sarah, starting into the branch tunnel. Aidan had no choice but to follow; the last thing he wanted now was to be alone. After a few minutes they came to another branch tunnel, and then another, but there were no star-and-arrow markers so they kept going straight. At the third tunnel, branching right, they found a marker directing them to the right; at the next branch they went left. Aidan glanced back constantly as they moved deeper and deeper into the dark labyrinth.

  “Sarah,” he whispered. “This is too far.”

  She didn’t turn around. “We are not turning back now,” she snapped. “Anyway, I think we’re coming to some kind of room.”

  She was right; in a few yards they entered a high-ceilinged, roughly square chamber, its floor strewn with rocks large and small. Tunnels branched off in all four directions. Sarah drew her heel mark into the dirt to indicate how they’d entered.

  Aidan was shining his light around. Suddenly, he froze.

  “Oh, no,” he whispered.

  “What now?” said Sarah.

  Aidan, his hand shaking, was aiming his flashlight at the floor. “Look,” he said. “I told you I saw eyes!”

  Sarah’s eyes followed his flashlight beam. She swallowed. The dirt floor was covered in animal tracks. Large ones.

  “Are those dog footprints?” she said, her voice low.

  “If they are,” said Aidan, “it’s a big dog. Or many big dogs. We need to get out of here.”

  “These could be really old.”

  “I saw eyes, Sarah!”

  Sarah flashed her light around the chamber. The beam swept across something in the corner. Sarah’s eyes widened.

  “Aidan! Look!” Her words echoed down all four tunnels. Her beam was fixed on a rock in the corner. On it was the star-and-arrow sign. The arrow pointed down.

  “I really think we need to leave,” said Aidan, his eyes still on the animal tracks.

  Sarah paid no attention. She was walking to the sign.

  “It’s here,” she said.

  “What’s here?”

  “It’s pointing straight down. There’s no tunnel or anything. It has to be here.”

  “Sarah, there’s big animals down—”

  “Right here,” she said, digging her heel into the dirt.

  “We need to—”

  “Dig,” said Sarah, dropping to her knees.

  “Sarah, we don’t—”

  “You start there,” she said, pointing. “I’ll start here. We work toward each other.” She propped her flashlight on a rock, then found two flattish rocks. She handed one to Aidan and began digging, starting directly below where the arrow pointed. She dug down about six inches and continued toward Aidan, who was digging unhappily but rapidly, making a shallow trench perpendicular to hers.

  When their trenches connected, he said, “What now?”

  “Dig deeper,” she said, attacking the dirt again. Aidan sighed and did the same. After a few minutes they paused for breath. Sarah was about to resume digging when Aidan put his hand on her arm.

  “Did you hear that?” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Like…breathing.”

  They both listened intently.

  “Dig,” she said. “Quickly!”

  “You did hear it!” he said.

  “Just dig!”

  The dirt flew in all directions. They had now
made a roughly circular hole about a yard across and more than a foot deep. Sarah glanced up to check the position of the arrow.

  Clank!

  Aidan’s rock had hit metal. He pounded it twice more.

  Clank! Clank!

  Now they both dug furiously, scooping up loose dirt with their hands and hurling it aside. They uncovered a rectangular metal plate about the size of a sheet of paper, with words engraved on it. Sarah brushed off the dirt and shone her light on it. Together, she and Aidan read the words.

  Use it wisely, or leave it be. Use it wrong, and death to thee.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t touch it,” said Aidan.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Death,” said Aidan. “It says death.” He started to rise. Sarah grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

  “No,” she said. “Listen to me, Aidan. We were meant for this. And this is meant for us. Look at what we’ve gone through to find this. He wanted us to find this.”

  “He wanted someone to. Not us.”

  “But it is us,” she said, still holding his wrist. “We’re going to find out what this is. And whatever it is, I promise: we’re going to be wise about it.”

  Aidan looked at his sister. Then his gaze shifted slightly, over her shoulder. He slowly lifted his flashlight. Sarah watched as the color drained from his face.

  “Aidan?” she whispered. “What is it?”

  Then she heard the growl.

  CHAPTER 6

  THE GUARDS

  SARAH FROZE, STARING INTO her brother’s terrified face.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “It’s not a dog.”

  Slowly, Sarah turned her head. Somehow she managed to suppress a scream when she saw what Aidan had been looking at.

  A wolf.

  A large wolf.

  It was less than ten feet away, its eyes glowing bright in the beam of Aidan’s flashlight. Its mouth hung open, revealing a pink tongue and jagged, glinting teeth.

  There were more wolves behind it. Sarah counted seven in all. Their fur was matted and mangy. They looked skinny. Most of all, they looked…hungry. Their glowing eyes were fixed, unblinking, on the humans. Their black noses flexed, sampling the scent of the intruders.

  “Oh my god,” said Aidan, his voice on the edge of panic.

  “What are we gonna do?”

  “Listen,” said Sarah, forcing herself to speak calmly. “We are going to get out of here. We are going to move very, very slowly. But first we are going to get whatever this thing is we just found.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Just watch the wolves,” said Sarah. With a deliberate movement she turned back to the hole she and Aidan had dug. She reached down, hooked a finger under the metal plate in the dirt, and gently pulled it aside. Beneath it was a cubical metal box, perhaps six inches on a side, its golden color glinting in the flashlight beam. She picked it up; it felt solid and seemed heavy for its size. She unzipped her backpack and put the box inside.

  “They’re coming closer,” said Aidan.

  Sarah turned slowly back. The alpha wolf, the leader, was now several steps nearer. The other wolves had moved forward behind it.

  The wolves were blocking their exit from the chamber.

  Sarah slowly raised her flashlight. She aimed it directly into the alpha wolf’s eyes. He backed up a few feet, growling.

  “They don’t like the light,” she said.

  The alpha, still growling, moved a step closer.

  “This isn’t going to get us out of here,” said Aidan. “We have to get past them. I wish Magill had mentioned there’d be wolves in—”

  “‘Feed the guards,’” said Sarah suddenly.

  “You mean…”

  “The wolves are the guards,” said Sarah. “I hope.” Keeping her gaze, and her flashlight beam, on the growling alpha wolf, she slipped out of the backpack and handed it to Aidan. “Get the sandwiches,” she said. “Hurry.”

  Aidan unzipped the backpack and found the bag of sandwiches. As he pulled it out, the survival tin fell at his feet. He picked it up and passed the bag to Sarah, who tore it open with her teeth, pulled out a cellophane-wrapped cheese sandwich, and tossed it toward the alpha wolf. He took one sniff, then snapped it up in a single bite, wrapping and all. Instantly, the other wolves surrounded him, looking for their share. He snarled at them, and they backed off—but not far. The wolves were still blocking the path to the exit tunnel. And Sarah and Aidan had one less sandwich. There were two left.

  “We need to back them up,” said Sarah. She shone the flashlight at the alpha. It growled, but this time it did not move.

  “I think it’s getting used to the light,” she said. “We need something else to scare it.”

  Aidan looked at the survival tin. “Matches,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I think there’s matches in here.” He yanked the metal tab on the survival kit and pulled off the lid. The tin was packed with survival items. He poked through them and found a metal cylinder labeled matches and a small metal sleeve labeled razor blade. He took these out and put the tin back into the backpack.

  “I got matches,” he said, opening the cylinder. “There’re six of them. And there’s a razor.”

  “I don’t think a razor will do much good,” said Sarah, eyeing the wolves. “I’m gonna try to move them so we can get past.” She raised a sandwich over her head. Seven pairs of hungry wolf eyes followed her motion. She held the sandwich aloft for a few seconds, then threw it to her right. In an instant the wolves were on it, a snarling cyclone of mangy fur and snapping jaws. The alpha wolf and several others got pieces of sandwich; the rest got only bites and scratches, blood seeping through their fur.

  The pack had moved a bit, but not enough for Sarah and Aidan to get past. The alpha stood still, watching them intently. Just behind him the other six paced restlessly, baring their teeth. The smell of food and blood was in the air.

  Sarah had one sandwich left. She tore it in half.

  “When I throw this,” she said, “we head for the tunnel. If they come after us I’ll shine my flashlight at them, and you light a match.”

  “Don’t turn your back on them,” said Aidan. “I saw this on TV. They go for your heels. That’s how they drop you. They snap your tendons so you can’t move. Then they eat you.”

  “I did not need to know that,” said Sarah.

  “They eat you alive.”

  “Shut up, okay? And get a match ready.”

  Aidan held a match head against the striking strip on the side of the cylinder. Sarah drew back her arm and threw a half sandwich across the chamber. The wolves were on it before it landed, their snarls echoing off the rock walls. Sarah and Aidan, walking sideways so they faced the wolves, moved quickly toward the tunnel.

  In seconds the sandwich was gone, the battle over. The alpha wolf, licking his lips, turned back and spotted Aidan and Sarah on the move. He ran toward them, growling, the others right behind. Sarah’s flashlight beam slowed him, but only for a second; he was coming this time.

  “Now!” she said.

  Aidan drew the match along the striking strip. The tip hissed and flared white. Instantly, the alpha stopped and retreated a few feet, whimpering. Sarah and Aidan moved a few steps closer to the tunnel. The match flame turned orange and began to wane. The alpha growled and began moving forward again. Sarah tore a piece off the remaining half sandwich.

  “I don’t have much sandwich left,” she said.

  “So make it count,” said Aidan, preparing a second match.

  All the wolves were coming now.

  “One…” said Aidan. “Two…”

  On “three” Sarah tossed the chunk of sandwich and Aidan struck the match. Again the wolves were both scared and distracted, but only for a few seconds. Sarah and Aidan had now reached the tunnel entrance. The alpha wolf was keeping his distance from the waning flame, but never took his eyes off them. The other wolves, having finished the sa
ndwich scrap, were just behind their leader.

  “One more piece of sandwich,” said Sarah.

  “Three more matches,” said Aidan.

  “That’s not enough to get us out of here.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” said Aidan. He quickly explained his plan. He shouldered the backpack by a single strap, readied a match, and said, “One…two…three.”

  Sarah threw the last piece of sandwich right into the midst of the wolves. At the same moment, Aidan lit the third match, crouched, and stood it up in the dirt floor.

  Aidan and Sarah turned and took off running as a vicious fight erupted behind them. Aidan glanced back once and was relieved to see that the tunnel was empty; the match flame was holding back the alpha. For now.

  Sprinting, panting, their flashlight beams waving wildly, Sarah and Aidan reached the first heel mark and turned right. From behind they heard snarling; the wolves were in the first tunnel. They kept running, their breath coming in gasps. The snarls grew suddenly louder. Aidan and Sarah looked back. The wolves had entered the new tunnel and were coming fast.

  “Hurry!” said Sarah, starting to run again. Aidan followed, but they were both thinking the same thing: We can’t outrun them.

  Aidan felt the backpack, the heavy golden box banging into him as he ran. He made a decision: he was going to throw the box at the wolves. He knew Sarah wouldn’t agree with that decision, but he wasn’t going to let himself get eaten to save a box. He jammed his flashlight into his pocket. Clutching the matches and razor in one hand, he used the other to unzip the backpack. He glanced back and nearly screamed; the wolves were only yards away. He reached into the backpack; his hand fell on something. He yanked it out. A candy bar.

  Sarah had reached the next heel mark in the dirt and Aidan followed as she turned left. At the same time he bit off a chunk of the candy bar, wrapper and all, and spat it at the alpha wolf, which had just rounded the corner. The wolf stopped, startled; it bent to snap up the treat, snarling at the other wolves as they went for it also. Aidan quickly bit off and spat out three more chunks, then threw the last piece at the wolves. A vicious fight broke out. Aidan turned and ran after Sarah, the howls of the wolves echoing in the tunnel behind him. As he ran, he groped in the backpack and found another candy bar.