by C. Cervi
“Keith,” Aaron called urgently, trying to keep his voice soft at the same time.
The other prisoners had already exited, and Aaron silently cursed his younger brother as he grabbed a candle from one of the nooks in the wall and headed after him.
Aaron raced ahead, calling for his brother. Just when he was starting to worry that he had lost him, Keith came barreling out of a side tunnel, nearly knocking him down.
“Aaron,” he said excitedly, “I didn’t catch him, but it was definitely a person. I followed his footprints into a small chamber.”
“Show me,” Aaron said quickly.
Following Keith into the small hollowed out chamber, he confirmed what his brother had said. The footprints led up to one of the rock walls and then just disappeared.
“The wall must open up,” Aaron said after a moment.
“Well, come on, let’s look,” Keith answered as he started examining the wall.
“No,” Aaron said, “not today. We’ll come back tomorrow when there’s more time. Right now I think we need to get back and get some food.”
Aaron could see that Keith wanted to argue, but he held himself back and, after a moment, nodded in agreement.
The two brothers raced through the tunnels, but finding their way back took much longer than Aaron would have liked. After quite a few wrong turns and dead ends, they finally found the main tunnel. As they neared the exit to the mine, Aaron sensed, before he saw, that something was wrong.
“The entrance?” Keith cried in alarm.
“It’s been closed up,” Aaron said; his voice deceptively calm voice.
A large iron gate, similar to the one in the front of the house, was now blocking their exit and after a few futile attempts to open it, Aaron and Keith turned back to face the long tunnels. It was then that a sudden rush of air blew toward them and the flame on his candle blew out.
Aaron could hear Keith next to him, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. It was still raining, and the sky was black, making it impossible to see out into the yard, but the gaping tunnels behind them seemed even darker. His brother was on the verge of panic and Aaron pushed his own feelings of concern aside as he tried to calm him.
“I’m right here, Keith,” he said, keeping his voice even.
“Aaron, we have to get out,” Keith said with an edge to his voice. “We can’t stay in here all night.”
“You’re all right, Keith,” Aaron answered, reaching out to lay a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“I can’t see anything,” Keith said, and Aaron knew he was working to keep the tremble out of his voice.
“I know,” Aaron said. “I’ve got a candle. Can you think of anything we can use to light it?”
Aaron could feel Keith fidgeting nervously and he gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“I’m . . . I’m okay now, Aaron,” Keith said. “I’m sorry. I just panicked for a minute there. I don’t remember seeing any supplies in here. I think they’re all in the shed outside.”
Aaron sighed, and began to wonder if they might just have to spend the night right where they were.
“Wait, what’s that?” Keith said, grabbing at Aaron’s sleeve.
Aaron managed to follow his brother’s finger to what seemed to be a small glow in the distance. Quickly heading toward the light, Aaron was relieved to see that one small candle had managed to stay lit. He used it to light the slightly larger one that was still in his hand and then turned back toward the gate. After examining the blocked entrance carefully, Aaron knew that without some outside help there would be no way to get the heavy gate open. The outside air was frigid and they agreed to move farther back into the tunnels. Together, he and Keith stumbled down the tunnel, feeling along the wall for the small nooks where the candles were set up and lighting them along the way.
“Why would they lock us in here?” Keith asked after a while.
“I’ve been wondering that myself,” Aaron answered. “The only thing I can come up with is that it’s another form of punishment. Probably because we left the group.”
Keith huffed loudly beside him.
“Things sure would be easier if they handed out a rule book when we got here,” he said.
Aaron chuckled softly.
“I can think of quite a few things that would make being here easier,” he answered.
“Yeah,” Keith said, “like for starters, not being here.”
Aaron stopped walking and turned to face his brother. Taking him gently by the shoulders, he turned him so that he could see his face. Despite Keith’s sarcasm, he could see the shadows of fear flickering in his eyes.
“Keith,” he said, “we are going to get out of here. You have to believe that.”
“I know,” Keith whispered, hanging his head. “It’s just that everyone here seems so . . . well, like they’ve just given up. Like it’s hopeless,” he finished.
“That’s exactly the problem,” Aaron said. “They have given up. They’ve stopped asking questions and are letting their fear control them. We aren’t going to do that.”
Aaron turned then and continued down the tunnel with Keith close behind.
“Aaron,” Keith asked cautiously, “when we leave here, we’ll take Emily and Philip with us, right?”
“When we leave here, I intend to take everyone with us,” Aaron stated emphatically.
As he finished speaking, the two found themselves standing before the small chamber they had followed the footprints into earlier.
“We’ll start getting some answers right here,” Aaron said.
Aaron and Keith searched for over an hour for any sign of a door or hidden latch, but without any success.
“I’m getting pretty tired,” Keith said after a while. “Maybe we should rest for a bit?”
Aaron nodded and the two settled on the ground, their backs resting against the hard wall.
Keith was asleep within moments and Aaron shook his head as he watched him. His youngest brother had always had the ability to fall asleep just about anywhere. Aaron thought back to the time when Keith had been about four years old. They had been playing hide-and-seek and Keith had hidden inside a nearly empty pickle barrel in the store room, and fallen asleep. Aaron had searched frantically for almost two hours before the sleepy head poked out of the barrel, munching on pickles and asking what had taken him so long. Keith had smelled like pickles for days after that.
Aaron wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep or for how long when the sound of distant voices pulled him back into consciousness. He jerked awake and was relieved to see Keith still sound asleep beside him.
He strained to listen and could just barely make out the sound of whispering. He glanced at Keith one last time and then, taking a candle from the wall, left in search of the voices. He slowly walked down one of the tunnels until he came to a fork. As he listened carefully, the whispering seemed to be louder in the tunnel to the left, and he continued to follow the sounds. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being deliberately led somewhere, and holding his candle near the ground, he was confused by the lack of footprints.
Whoever it is I’m following must be floating.
Aaron squinted to see up ahead. The tunnel he was in eventually led him into another chamber. He looked down as he felt the rocky, dirt floor give way to hard, cold stone beneath his feet. Taking another step inside, the whispering abruptly ceased he glanced around cautiously.
In the center of the room was a low table made of rough stone. He could make out a shape on the table but, with the low light, he couldn’t be sure what it was. Approaching cautiously, he grimaced when he realized it was a pair of heavy chains. Glancing around the room, he saw that there were also chains set in the wall about every six feet or so. In between the chains were torches and Aaron walked around, lighting a few of them. The increased light drew his attention to several dark stains covering the room—the table, floor, even the walls. He wondered if the stains were blood and found himself shivering, in
spite of the heat. The flames cast eerie shadows on the walls, making it look as if contorted figures were dangling from the chains. For a moment he felt as if he had stepped back into the dark ages, and had stumbled upon an ancient torture chamber. He was becoming increasingly alarmed, and his mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. There was nothing intricate or orderly about this chamber. It was crude and harsh, almost primitive.
What kind of madness is this?
Just being in the room was beginning to fill him with a sense of dread and he quickly turned back to the tunnel. The whispering instantly started up again and he hesitated, trying to make out what was being said. His eyes grew wide a moment later when all the voices seemed to blend into one, and he shuddered when it whispered his name. It was the same voice that he’d heard the night he was knocked out by the front gate.
“Who’s there?” he called, darting the candle around the room.
“Don’t leave,” the voice whispered.
It seemed to be coming from several different directions at once, and Aaron wiped his hand over his face.
“Show yourself,” he demanded.
“Come closer,” was the eerie response, this time it seemed to be emanating from the table in the center.
Aaron’s logical mind told him to go, face his enemy, and demand answers, but as the voice continued to call, his feet steadfastly refused to move forward.
Come on—pull yourself together.
He stood, frozen to the spot, his body pulling in one direction, his mind in the other. His battle came to an abrupt end a moment later when he heard a scream coming from the tunnel.
“Keith!” he cried as he raced back to his brother.
C
hapter 6
Aaron ran as fast as he dared, following the sound of his brother’s voice. His loud cries filled the tunnels and Aaron had to stop repeatedly, and listen, to make sure he was running in the right direction. It was obvious that his brother was in pain but, at the same time, his intermittent screams let Aaron know that at least, whatever had happened, he was alive.
“Where are you?” Aaron called out, sure that he must be getting close.
“Over here,” Keith answered, his voice coming from just up ahead. “Be careful!”
Aaron forced himself to slow down and proceed cautiously. A sharp left, finally, led him to his brother, and he gasped as he took in the situation. The tunnel path ended abruptly, leading to a dangerous drop off, and Keith had gone over the side. The only thing keeping his brother from falling to his death was his right arm, firmly wedged between two jagged rocks. His arm was at an odd angle, and Aaron could see blood seeping from where the rocks were digging into his flesh.
“Hurry,” Keith shouted.
Aaron was on his knees in an instant and grabbing Keith’s free hand along with the front of his shirt, quickly yanked him onto solid ground. Keith’s scream as his arm was suddenly ripped free caused Aaron’s heart to race, and he heard Keith suck in a sharp breath as he reached out to examine him.
“I’m sorry . . . ” Keith said, his breathing labored “ . . . wasn’t paying attention. I . . . my arm got caught. I think it’s loose.”
“Yeah, it’s loose, Keith,” Aaron said, bracing himself for what was to come.
Over the years his active younger brother had managed to pull a limb out its socket on more than one occasion, and loose was the term they’d come to refer to it by.
Aaron took hold of Keith’s upper arm and braced his other hand on his shoulder. Keith instinctively reached out his good arm and managed to grab a handful of Aaron’s clothes, along with a good deal of skin. A moment later both brothers let out an exclamation of pain when Aaron popped the limp arm back in to place.
“Sorry, Aaron,” Keith panted, this time referring to his brother’s leg, and Aaron gingerly rubbed the tender spot.
“That’s okay. It will match the bruise on my other leg.”
Keith glanced up quizzically as he wiped the sweat from his eyes.
“I hit it on a rock while I was helping you up,” Aaron answered his unasked question. “What happened here?”
“I woke up and you were gone,” Keith began. “I started to follow your footprints when I . . . well, I thought I heard someone calling from this direction. I took off running and when I rounded the corner I fell over the edge. If my arm hadn’t gotten caught on those rocks . . .”
Keith shuddered as his voice faded. Aaron wondered why this passage hadn’t been closed up. Someone was sure to end up getting killed, but then again, everything about this place reeked of death. After a thorough examination, Aaron was convinced that Keith’s cuts were superficial. He didn’t have anything to clean the wounds with though, and he was worried about them becoming infected. Ripping the sleeve off his shirt, he used it to make a sling for Keith. Aaron wished he knew where to find some water. He was sure it must be long past midnight, and they hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since the afternoon before.
“Well, I don’t feel much like sleeping anymore,” Aaron said. “I think I’m going to look around a while longer and see if I can find us some water.”
“Not without me you’re not,” Keith said, jumping up quickly. “I think we should stick together.”
Aaron would have preferred for Keith to rest but, from the tone in his voice, there would be no persuading him to stay behind. Part of him wanted to go back to the chamber where he’d heard the whispering voices to try and seek out some answers. Thankfully, a larger and much stronger part of him took control and, giving Keith a nod, they headed down yet another tunnel in search of water. In the next few hours, they came across dozens of chambers similar to the one in which they worked every day, but there was no water to be found.
As they explored, Aaron kept his senses alert. He had always possessed a keen sense of intuition and, right now, that inner voice was telling him to tread carefully, as they were being watched. His eyes darted around, watching the various shadows play against the wall, his ears constantly listening for any unfamiliar or unexpected sound. From his brother’s sharp, fidgety movements, he knew Keith was sensing the same thing.
“Aaron,” Keith said after a moment, “do you get the feeling that . . .”
“Yeah,” he interrupted. “Just keep your eyes open, and be ready to move fast.”
They were approaching a small tunnel they had already passed several times in their wanderings. It was low and narrow, and up until now they had avoided it, choosing instead the wider and easier paths. This time, Aaron stopped and held his candle in that direction. The opening was covered in cobwebs and it was obvious that no one had been that way in quite a while. Listening once again to that still small voice inside him, Aaron turned to Keith.
“I think we should try this one,” he said.
Before Keith had a chance to answer him, there was another sudden rush of air. Aaron managed, just in time, to keep his candle lit by turning away and holding it close to his body. It was the loud whispering, following the onrush of air that caused his heart to race. He turned to Keith and could tell from his chalky appearance and wide eyes that he heard it too. Up until now, he hadn’t been sure whether or not he’d been imagining the voices. A loud scraping noise came from somewhere in the distance, followed by the sound of heavy, shuffling footsteps. The voices suddenly blended again to form one haunting tone.
“Wrong way . . .” was its frightening whisper.
As the shuffling grew louder, Aaron grabbed Keith’s uninjured arm and, moving almost as one, they dove into the small tunnel. Aaron’s stomach lurched as he felt something grab the back of his shirt. Picking up his pace as much as he was able, he wound his way through the narrow path until it came to an abrupt end in front of an old, rotting, wooden door.
“What do you think?” Aaron asked Keith.
A low moan wafted down the tunnel toward them and, without answering, Keith threw his good shoulder into the door, forcing it open. Once inside Aaron quickly shut the door an
d, taking a quick glance around the room, the two grabbed an old table and used it to blockade the door, leaning their own bodies against it for extra support. They sat in silence for several minutes, the sounds of their heavy breathing and the small light from their candle being the only indicators of their presence in the small room. After a while, Aaron finally felt that it was safe to move. Holding the candle high above him, he moved around the room and was relieved to see a few torches built into the walls. The room took on a soft glow, once the torches were lit, and Keith moved to join his brother.
It seemed the room, at one time, had served as quarters for several people, although from the looks of it, that had been long ago. Keith became immediately interested in some unopened crates near a wall, while Aaron’s curiosity led him to a small desk in the opposite corner. There were many worn and yellowed papers strewn across the top of the desk, but his hand came to rest on a small book in the center.
“Hey, Aaron,” Keith practically shouted. “Come look at this.”
Aaron shoved the book inside his waistband and turned to see what Keith had discovered. His brother had scooted the crates around, and was now kneeling in front of a small crawlspace that had previously been hidden. As Aaron joined him, he could feel air flowing in through the small tunnel and he prayed that it would lead to a way out of this eerie, black prison.
“Come on,” Keith said excitedly.
Aaron took another quick glance around the room. He knew instinctively that going out the way they had come in would not be an option. He and Keith opted for the tunnel and, crawling on their hands and knees, were halfway through the tight fitting space before they heard the crashing of the door being forced open behind them.
Even with Keith’s tender shoulder, he managed to move with amazing speed. Aaron followed closely on his heels as a terrifying growl sounded down the tunnel. Suddenly, Keith disappeared and an instant later Aaron fell on top of him. The tunnel had opened out into a small room with an old rickety ladder standing in the center, and they could see the sky above it. Aaron and Keith both gave a shout of excitement as they quickly made their way toward freedom. Aaron instinctively shoved Keith ahead of him up the ladder, and they had almost reached the top before he heard a snap. He barely managed to hang on when Keith came sliding back toward him.
