The Death Detail (The Securus Trilogy Book 1)

by Anthony Maldonado

  “Grant, help us settle an argument.” One of the workers approaches the Guard from the opposite side. The worker is a lanky man with glasses that appear to be clinging to the tip of his nose. The other worker stands with his arms folded in front of him, regarding the lanky man with an impatient stare partially hidden by his thick, woolly beard. The Guard turns his attention to the men.

  “What are you two arguing about today?” the Guard asks, obviously exasperated by the men.

  “This man thinks it’s acceptable that his son-” the bearded man grumbles but is interrupted by the other worker before he could finish.

  “I didn’t say it was acceptable, I just said-” the lanky man protests, but he is also cut off by his partner.

  As they continue to interrupt each other they become increasingly aggravated. Their voices escalate in order to continually prevent the other from finishing his sentence. Eventually they tire of yelling at each other. Now both of the men attempt to tell their side of the story to the Guard at once. Their words become mangled together along with those of the Guard’s, who futilely attempts to calm the men down.

  This is my chance. While they are occupied, I put the camera back into my pocket while sliding along the edge of the wall. When passing under the main door, I am careful to avoid the watchful lens of the security cameras. The nervousness inside makes my head spin. As I step into The Caves, the Guard’s voice barks out. I quicken my pace and steal a glance back. He was not shouting at me. They are all huddled together, distracted by their discussion. Wanting to get far from their line of sight, I veer off to the poorly lit trails on the periphery. This lets me avoid the revealing lights that focus on the main path and initial pools. Soon, I am safely shielded from their view. The shadows from the towering stalagmites make it difficult to see. I affix my illuminator, but do not dare turn it on yet. My pace quickens, increasing the distance from the arguing men. Each step works to decrease my nervousness.

  Cautiously, I circle through the winding paths forged by the many visitors who have entered this chamber. Checking the upper tunnels would be useful, but they are on the other side of the cavern. Making it to them without being caught would be impossible. My trot slows as I near the main exit passage leading to the tunnel system. Though the opening to the passage lies far from the sight of the primary security post, it is visible from the secondary post. I peek around a grouping of thick, tawny stalagmites that rise to nearly double my height, looking back toward Securus. The secondary post is empty. I quickly dart into the passage. My progress is forced to slow as the light fades even further. Still, I do not risk turning on my illuminator. If anyone saw the glow of my light in the tunnel, it could trigger an investigation. That would make an already difficult return impossible.

  I have been through this passage many times but never without the aid of light. Needing another way of navigating, I find the wall and run my hand along the rocks as a guide. It turns out I am less adept to moving in the darkness than anticipated. Though Securus is underground, hidden from the Sun’s light, many lights constantly shine throughout the facility. The hallways always have a glow tracing the various paths from level to level.

  The only time we are close to complete darkness is when we sleep. Even then, we are in the familiar surroundings of our quarters and have the use of our illuminators to augment the faint light creeping in from the exterior doors. Now, this deep in the tunnel, I am deprived of all light. Moving through the damp tunnels entombed in utter darkness, waves of panic rise within me. The darkness feels palpable, like a cold black sludge, slowing my movements.

  Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the ground beneath my feet and the rough feel of the tunnel wall against my hand. The change of focus helps to calm me while continuing through the passage. After going in far enough for my light should go unseen, I finally turn on my illuminator. Its light gives me renewed strength.

  A sign on the wall tells me I am not as far in as I thought. It is too late to turn the light off now, so I rush further into The Caves, hoping it has gone unnoticed. Being able to see the path allows me to move much faster. Soon, I reach the end of the standard marked tunnel system. Out here it is very unlikely to run into anyone other than scattered researchers. Most of them should be in Securus on their breaks. Feeling less vulnerable releases more of my tension.

  The path ahead has a loose, rocky floor and a continuous incline that makes my steps cumbersome. I lean over to use my hands to steady my body while crawling up the path. By the time the ground levels out, I am panting heavily and in need of a rest. Because my thoughts were occupied, my pace had become more rapid than intended. I lean against the side of the tunnel and take deep breaths while letting the tightness in my muscles subside. Sitting here, I realize this trip is not as planned out as it should have been. I need to investigate Merrick’s chamber, but do not have a way past the collapse. They must have made a hole in the barrier when they retrieved Merrick. Unless they lied about bringing him back as well.

  When my breathing returns to normal, I get up to continue. The next tunnel is flat but very narrow. I turn and squeeze myself through it by sidestepping. My breaths bounce from the constricting wall in front of me, stirring up particles of dirt that irritates my eyes. The jagged walls in here limit my vision anyway, so I close my eyes while going the rest of the way through. Once emerging from the narrow crevice, I enter a cylindrical chamber that, by all appearances, is a dead end. This means my destination is close. Veiled in the shadows above me is the passage leading into Merrick’s chamber.

  Walking into the chamber, I remember the pleasure Merrick took as he watched us absorb the awe inspiring view. Despite the beauty of this area, the joy I had the first time we came here is lost. Instead, only sadness emerges. This place will be forever tainted by the needless tragedy that has brought me back here to investigate.

  I retrieve the camera from my pocket. When telling the others what really happened, visual evidence will be more persuasive than the absurd allegations of a grieving friend. I carefully document the chamber while making my way to the far wall beside the thundering waterfall. This time my climb is slow and meticulous. If I were to fall, there would be no help.

  I try to concentrate on the climb, but my thoughts keep going back to Merrick. My distraction gets worse when reaching the top platform. Now I am faced with the passage where he was murdered. My legs become anchored to the ground, unwilling to carry me in. The image of Merrick, falling before the soldier’s gun, burns before my eyes. I cannot stop here. The thought of those men getting away with their crime causes a seething rage to build within me, powering my legs to break free of their invisible chains. I will find the truth, Merrick. No matter what it takes, I think to myself while entering the passage.

  Making my way through the tortuous tunnel, I near the site of the collapse. The rubble still blocks the way, but the arrangement has changed. The wall of debris has more structure to it. Multiple new boulders line the floor on this side of the tunnel. I crawl over the fallen rocks and peer through the cracks in the wall. The area does not look the same as it did before. I contort my head and neck, searching for the man-made tunnel. There is no sign of it. That part of this alcove now ends abruptly to form a sealed chamber. Even with the unpredictable arrangement of natural tunnel collapses, this seems odd. The area appears to have been intentionally sealed off.

  I continue to take images of the area while looking for any glimpse of the passage to the tracks. All I find in the chamber is more solid rock. Frustrated, I examine the manipulated collapse before me. An area to the side catches my attention. The boulders there are much smaller than the ones from before. This must be where the search party went through. The fact that they took the time to reinforce the wall is revealing. I grip one of the rocks and pull with all of my weight. As I lean back, the pressure forces the air from my lungs. I pull on it until my hand slips, sending me to the ground. I cannot move them by myself. With some extra help, we may be able to get past this wall.
That may be useful if I return, but right now it does nothing except add to my mounting frustration. I am stuck on the outside, exactly like before.

  At least the pictures are something to show Hadwin and Sayda, though I was hoping to be able to get proof of the tracks themselves. After failing to get through the collapse, I resign to a defeated return to Securus. Before I turn away, a mechanical hum emanates from the walls. I turn my illuminator off and listen. The walls continue to vibrate as a section retracts into itself. Inside, I see the same man-made tunnel and shimmer of the tracks from before. My excitement instantly turns to dread when I realize the lights allowing me to see inside the tunnel are moving. My blood drains from me when I hear a voice.

  “Make sure it’s clear,” the voice says. The mechanical manipulation of his words by his mask is unsettling.

  “Nobody’s going to be out here after what happened last time. Besides, who could get past that cave-in?” another voice growls. “What they need to do is seal all these cross tunnels off and save us the trouble of these patrols.”

  I crouch behind the rubble, hiding in the darkness. The sound of the second man’s voice resonates in my memory. He is the one that killed Merrick. I position myself near the base of the wall, and find a small crack to see the soldiers. They are wearing the same armored uniforms as before, but their position and the low light keeps me from confirming the insignia on their chest. I take out my camera to get a picture. Only, the glare of their lights keeps washing out the image.

  “Like they would waste the resources it would take to patch up tunnels no one will ever find. It’s cheaper to keep the extra patrols. That’s all they care about, the bottom line. Everything’s quiet here. Check the supply room and let’s go,” the mechanical voice says.

  Slowly, I push myself from the floor. I want to move higher to get a better view, and hopefully a picture. One of the soldiers pushes upward on a rock positioned high on the side wall. When he does, another chamber appears. As I strain to see what is inside, the movement jars loose a fist-sized piece of a rock. My heart latches on to the rock, tumbling to the floor along with it. In the quiet tunnel, the echoing thud of its fall fills the air.

  The sound could very well be my death toll. Both soldiers snap to attention and raise their weapons. Their lights pierce the cracks in the barrier, searching for me. One of the soldiers inches toward the rocks for a closer vantage point. My body screams for me to run, but I resist the urge. I would not get far. They would spot and execute me instantly. My only chance is to hide. Slowly crouching further, I lower myself onto the base of the collapse, hoping the sharp angle will shield me from the soldiers’ view. Now, laying on the floor and facing up, a beam of concentrated light radiates from the small portal I was looking through. The light continues its search for me while I stay motionless, just below its revealing glow. I ignore the sting of my own sweat running into my eyes and remain silent.

  The barrel of the soldier’s weapon now penetrates the wall. An intense light flashes from it, exploding against the far wall. With the kick of the barrel another loose rock plummets down, catching me on the lower end of my sternum. The hallow thud it makes is masked by the sounds of the crumbling rocks in the passage. With the blow, my breath leaves me. I am unable to regain it. I struggle for air as the weapon withdraws through the crack and the light changes its focus. Even though I know the mechanism of this injury, I am powerless to stop it. My only option is to wait through the intense suffocation for my stunned diaphragm to awaken. Only then will my breath return. My analytical thoughts help keep me from panic, but the lack of breath is causing a shade to cover my vision. If I do not breathe soon, I will pass out.

  “Just some falling rocks settling,” the growling man reassures the other.

  They close the secondary chamber and return to the tunnel inside. As the wall closes, my diaphragm finally awakens. I gasp for air. My lungs fill with oxygen as the constriction in my chest eases. After a few deep breaths the dizziness subsides. With the returned clarity, I feel an intense throbbing in my chest that morphs into a piercing pain every time I take a breath. My ribs or my sternum must have broken under the weight of the falling rock.

  I rest my head against a large boulder and lay still, wanting to let the soldiers get far away before attempting to move. I wince from the pain in my chest. To distract myself, I think about my new discovery. There are two doors hidden in the passage, and I know how to get into one of them. That is more than I had before. Finally, this is something of substance for me to work with. Despite the protests of my chest wall, I get up and make my way out of the tunnel.

  After getting far enough from danger, I turn on my illuminator to examine my injuries. My shirt is tattered and blood oozes from the underlying wound. Lifting the cloth reveals a deep contusion spreading across the center of my chest. More importantly, the unified movement tells me there is not a free floating segment of ribs detached by the blow. That lends me some hope that the injury could be less severe than it feels. Either way, my injury can be investigated further on my return to the infirmary. For now, I have to endure the pain and find a way back inside Securus.

  Chapter 9

  Retracing my steps, I walk toward Securus while considering my options. The only plan that seems feasible is to find a way to blend in as a research worker. To do so, I will need something to pass off as a sample or research material. There was nothing available along the path I took that would be convincing. My plan already seems doomed to failure. Then I remember the small chamber Talia brought us to. Collecting some of the bio-luminous bacteria she discovered may be enough to convince the Guards of my cover story. Getting the sample will use up precious time but should be worth it.

  The constant pain in my chest wall slows my progress, but the return trip is physically easier with more downhill paths. Upon reaching the low, narrow tunnel that serves as an entrance to Talia’s chamber, I kneel down to painfully snake my way through it. Every time I reach out to pull myself forward, a searing pain drains my strength, making the effort particularly grueling. Halfway through, the thought of having to continue and then do this again to get out almost makes me turn back. The only thing keeping me moving is the threat of the Detention Center. If I am not convincing enough, this injury will be the least of my worries. I push forward, doing my best to endure the pain.

  As I am about to enter the chamber, a faint noise stops me. I turn off my illuminator and carefully inch my way in. With each movement, holding in the painful grunts is a monumental struggle. Even so, I must be silent. If I stumbled onto another soldier, my only chance for survival is if he does not hear me coming.

  A shadow stands on the opposite side of the room, conspicuously blocking the glow of the microbes. The figure has not seen me yet. Whoever this is has an illuminator on a low setting. A hand reaches up to turn it off. With the artificial light removed, the glow of the microbes intensifies, lighting up her face. The curious look in Talia’s eyes while she studies the microbes makes me smile despite the sadness of my trip and the agony from lying on my injured chest.

  I have seen that look before. It reminds me of when we were in school together. Whenever alone, Talia was always engrossed in some project or study material. She would intensely consume knowledge while always staying curious enough to search for more. I often stumbled onto her when she had same look she has now. Whenever she saw me coming she would stop and greet me with a smile that never failed to brighten my day. Talia was always busy, but somehow she managed to make enough time to talk with me.

  As time passed we did sought each other’s company more regularly. Even though nothing could come of it, I enjoyed our time together. One day, she asked me to accompany her to a celebration at the end of one of our school cycles. I was stunned by the invitation, but agreed instantly. That night, while the ceremony was commencing, a low light shone on her, just as the microbes’ light does now. Talia looked into my eyes with her hand on my cheek. She leaned in toward me just as our instructor cam
e to speak with her. He interrupted us, insisting she was needed by her father. I did not see her again that night, or for weeks afterward. The next day I heard of her transfer into Leadership as well as my new assignment in the infirmary. That was the last time we were able to speak alone, until she showed up in the infirmary two days ago.

  I return my focus to the present. Considering my current situation, there is no time to dwell on the past. Though it hurts to move, I force myself to stand up in the chamber. The rustling of my movement breaks Talia’s concentration. She spins toward me.

  “Who’s there? Announce yourself or I’ll call the Guard,” Talia says sternly.

  “It’s me, Kagen,” I reply softly, wincing in pain.

  “Kagen! What are you doing in here?” she asks, confused by my unexpected presence.

  “I’m trying to figure out what you’re doing all by yourself, lurking in the darkness. Why were you standing there with no lights?” I ask, avoiding her question.

  “The microbes we collected died in the lab. I think it has something to do with our lighting system. These organisms have never been exposed to actual sunlight or even our artificial substitute. I was watching how their glow changes with and without a direct light on them,” she answers. “And you didn’t answer my question. What are you doing out here? You could get into a lot of trouble,” Talia adds, with her voice shifting from surprise to concern.

  “Yeah, I know,” I say, walking toward her to explain. “I feel responsible for leaving Merrick in that tunnel. I had to go back and see it again. To know what happened and to see if there was any way I could’ve done something differently.” My words are not lies, but they are not the entire truth either. I sit down next to where she stands.

  Talia sits beside me, looking into my eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, Kagen, you did the right thing.”