by Rainy Kaye
Houses and stores lay in strangely shaped heaps, some spilling into each other and onto the cracked roads. Vehicles were overturned or covered in debris. One building had somehow survived but jutted from the ground at a strange angle that defied physics.
“That was some tremor,” Randall muttered.
“Whatever it is, it’s getting closer,” I whispered. “Or stronger.”
We shuffled forward, gripping each other’s hand until my fingers went numb. Still, I didn’t let go. It seemed like if I did, I might slip off into an endless void.
A tingling sensation burned along my skin. I could not discern the source.
Randall gave me a questioning look.
“You feel that?” I asked. “It’s almost like electricity.”
Randall tipped his head. “I don’t feel anything. You all right, Saf?”
The sensation tugged at me, and I tried to tune into it, to determine the direction it was coming from. I inched along, checking every few steps, letting the tingle guide me until I found myself standing in front of a pile of rocks and debris. The ground nearly pulsed with some unseen force.
“It’s under here,” I said.
Randall stood next to me, staring down at the spot. “I assume you’re wanting to investigate?”
“That’s probably a terrible idea,” I said, but bent and shoved the first heavy rock out of the way.
Randall joined in, pushing aside debris. We rolled rocks as big as our heads and worked together to lift broken sheetrock out of the way.
The whole mess caved in with a roar, dust erupting in our faces. I jumped back, coughing and waving my hand in front of me. When the dust cleared, a gaping hole stared up at us, that led farther back into darkness.
The sensation rolled out in waves, beckoning me.
I bit my bottom lip and tasted chalk. “I can think of a dozen things I’d rather do than go down there, one of which is licking the eye socket of a cadaver.”
“I bet you’re wild in bed,” Randall said, deadpan.
I sidestepped away from him.
“It was just an observation,” he said. “Is going down there really any worse than coming to a city with a powerful, evil mage running around?”
I pinched my chin with my thumb and forefinger, willing myself to contemplate this, but we both already knew we were going to investigate.
With a huff to clear the dust from my nose, I started forward first, working my way down the rubble that sloped from the entrance, into the tunnel. Randall came behind me, rocks shifting under our feet as we worked our way to the soft dirt floor of the corridor.
“This must be manmade, right?” I asked, but Randall murmured a noncommittal answer as we stared into the darkness ahead.
The entire tunnel shook. I realized a moment too late what was happening.
“Earthquake,” I stammered, swinging back around to the pile of rocks and debris. I clamored up the slope towards the opening.
The tunnel rattled harder. The rocks slid from under me, and I landed on my ass as I toppled down to the floor. I landed with a heavy thud.
I pushed upright as the tunnel shifted. The opening collapsed in a puff of dirt, sealing us into the darkness.
11
“Let’s pretend that was totally by accident,” Randall said from behind me.
Without a word, I started moving aside the bricks and wood and rocks that filled the tunnel, blocking our way. With each piece I moved, the slope shifted and threatened an avalanche. All I managed to do was puff more dust into my face and mouth.
Wiping my tongue, I turned around and pushed under his arm into the tunnel. Even after letting my eyes adjust to the dark, I still couldn’t see anything. The collapse had closed off all the light from outside, and as far as I could tell, there was going to be no easy way out. Our only option was onward, into the unknown.
The buzzing feeling continued to radiate down the tunnel, but I still couldn’t identify what it might be.
This quest was really starting to lose its appeal.
I put my arm out to my side, touching the wall, and used it to guide me forward. Randall stayed right behind me, so close the heat of his body melded with mine. I felt strangely comforted and tired, despite being trapped in an underground tunnel.
We inched along the path in silence. Our breathing seemed to be doing the talking for us. My heart thudded through my body. Part of me believed the roof of the tunnel must be right above our heads, and the other part of me didn’t want to know. I resisted the urge to reach up and check. The last thing I needed was a sudden bout of claustrophobia.
Randall tugged my arm a little, veering me to the right. My hand on the wall slid into open air, and I realized the tunnel had either widened or forked. Randall must be also using his free arm as a feeler on the other side of us, like we were some kind of blind insect. The tunnel tightened, and I had to shift closer to him, until I was tucked under his arm instead of holding his hand.
My brain raced with things to say about our predicament, but none of them made enough sense to reach my mouth. There was only one real concern, anyway: did the tunnel lead anywhere, or were we only going to find dead ends?
And what was that irritating buzzing electric feeling?
A sound caught my attention. I tensed, listening. Randall paused right beside me. Even though he couldn’t possibly see my expression, he kept quiet.
The noise came again, and it seemed to be behind us. It sounded like heavy footsteps, but maybe my imagination was revving up. I held my breath, trying to decipher what the sound could be. Just the wind outside? People walking above us? The tunnel about to finish collapsing?
The noise picked up pace.
“Ah, shit,” I hissed.
Randall yanked my arm and we were off.
The footsteps pounded down the tunnel, charging toward us. It didn’t sound human, as if I knew what humans running through an underground tunnel would even sound like.
My heart seized in my chest as Randall and I scrambled down the tunnel. My hand danced along the left wall as we went, but it was all smooth, silky dirt. The tunnel curved ever so slightly, and as it did, warm rotten air rolled through like fog from behind us.
My stomach churned, as much from the stench as from the realization that whatever was behind us was close enough I could smell its breath. I picked up my pace. Randall and I alternated pushing and pulling on each other, the tunnel not quite wide enough to accommodate us side by side. We seemed to war with saving ourselves or being altruistic. My hand hit nothingness, and then tapped on the wall.
I kept running, but my brain churned what that meant. Before I could put it into words, I spun around and, grabbing Randall’s arm, darted into the opening. The space was tight, the walls jagged and broken. My face met a dead end. I pressed my palms against the barricade in front of us, making out rocks and loose dirt, different than the walls in the main tunnel.
“I think the roof collapsed here too,” I whispered, as I shifted around to face the direction we had come. We weren’t so much in a full tunnel anymore, but a remaining crevice just big enough we could squeeze into it together.
Outside the opening, footsteps paced. The longer I listened, the more I was certain the creature had four legs. In my mind, I envisioned a tiger, but that couldn’t be right. What would a tiger be doing underground in New Orleans?
Then again, what the hell was I doing underground in New Orleans?
Even though the dark persisted, I closed my eyes. All that seemed to do was make the beast’s smell stronger. The rotten meat stench was underscored with musk and damp mold, and the longer I stayed cramped up in the tiny space, the more I couldn’t begin to identify the creature.
Not that it really mattered. There were enough tell-tale signs that it probably wasn’t a house cat.
The pacing stopped. Breath billowed into our hiding spot, followed by several snorts. Something told me if I outstretched my arm, I would touch the creature’s nose. Dirt tumbled down o
nto my shoe, and as I listened, the sounds of scraping became clear.
It was trying to dig us out.
I backed into Randall farther, as far away from the opening as we could go, and then reached up in hopes of finding an escape above us. My fingers met rough dirt and dangling roots.
More dirt spilled onto my feet. Even if the creature didn’t reach us, he was going to cause our hiding spot to finish collapsing. We would either be caught or buried alive.
I flicked my fingers, sprinkling magical crumbs to the ground. They weren’t bright enough to break the darkness more than a few inches around it, but my magic was available.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I drew up power from the ground, letting it fill me, and then darted forward, hand outstretched. My palm slapped onto moist skin. I unleashed heat like I was warming my coffee, but let it keep pumping forward. The creature reared away with a strange gasping sound.
Then it slammed into the opening.
Dirt toppled around us on all sides. I choked, covering my mouth with the back of my free hand.
I shot my arm out of the opening and grappled for the creature. My fingers sunk into wet thick fur. I nearly pulled away. The creature tried to twist from my hold, but I shoved heat down my arm and out through my hand. With a grumble, the creature bucked and shook free. I blindly swept at it again, aware I might be down a limb before this was over.
The creature rammed into the wall. Dirt piled just below my knees. I strained to pull one leg free and brace it on top of the mound. Leaning forward, I ducked halfway out of the opening, into the rampaging darkness.
Something knocked me to the ground, dragging its moldy furry underbelly across my back. I twisted around, yanking my other leg free of the cave-in.
The creature charged back over me again in the other direction. I reached up with both hands and grabbed its fur. My back dragged along the floor of the tunnel as the creature barreled through. When it spun around, I kicked off the wall and hoisted myself up on its side. Straining, I climbed the rest of the way on its back.
I was prepared for it to buck me off, but instead it continued to stampede back and forth in the tunnel. Panting hard, I dared to let go with one hand and grab a few inches farther up its back. I inched forward, alternating hands as I went. Its spine curved up to its neck until giving way to a wide skull. I patted around, trying to discern where its eyes might be. My palm landed on something hard, and I followed it upwards as it branched out of its head.
It had horns.
This was the worst game of charades, ever.
Swallowing hard, I refocused my attention on what actually mattered. I scooted forward a little more and tightened my thighs around its neck. Mustering up my magic, I slammed my hot palm against its eye.
The creature gave a demonic sound that was equal parts roar and bleat. It kicked hard from the back and shook its head. My grip slipped and I slammed into the wall. My chest seized, and I fell into a crumpled heap on the ground.
I struggled to move, but my limbs wouldn’t budge. Panic flittered across my brain. If that creature doubled back around, it would trample me. I dug my fingers into the soft dirt on the ground, but it was more the twitching of a dying bug than anything productive.
The footsteps faded away. I waited, tensed but unmoving. Seconds or minutes passed—it was impossible to tell—and the silence remained.
My body melted against the wall, my head lolling to the side.
Crunching sounds stirred my attention, but it was still too dark to see anything. Someone loomed over me. Strong arms reached down and pulled me to my feet.
Randall.
I slumped against him, and together, we shuffled our way down the path, in the direction we had been headed before the creature had chased us.
Nothing said it wouldn’t come back, but we would worry about that when the time came. For the moment, we kept walking. There was nothing else to do.
A twinge of guilt fluttered through my chest. I hadn’t known what else to do to prevent the beast from killing us either under its hooves or in a cave in.
When light broke through the darkness, it felt like something had gone wrong. I whimpered and buried my face in Randall’s neck until both my vision and my brain cleared.
Something up ahead was glowing, and the illumination revealed the tunnel split into two paths. It took me a moment to determine the light was coming from not one, but both sides.
“That doesn’t look like sunlight,” Randall said, his hand going to my hip as he wrapped his arm around my waist.
“Nope.” I couldn’t imagine what else to say about the situation. Anything could be down those tunnels at this point.
“Flip a coin?” he asked, nudging me a little. “You call it.”
I stepped forward, away from him. “I suppose we’re going to die on either side.”
Even as I spoke, I brought my magic to the front, felt it warming my fingers. I wasn’t actually planning to die today, despite the odds against us.
I shuffled forward to the entrance of the first tunnel and peered into it, but I couldn’t see anything past the hazy glow. Randall joined me, and together, we crept down the tunnel, into the light.
I looked up as I realized the source of the light came from above. Blue orbs of magic hung in the air, illuminating the way.
I scowled at them for existing.
Up ahead, the tunnel came to an end. Hanging on the dirt walls was an empty golden frame, thinner than the one that had been around Eliza Brown’s painting but no less grand. In a way, it seemed nearly an homage to the portrait frame.
I closed the distance to the frame and stood an arm’s length in front of it, taking it in. If I expected the frame to give me a clue to its purpose, it did no such thing.
With blue magic twisting around my hand, I reached out and touched the empty center of the frame. Electricity jolted through me, and everything went dark as I dropped to the ground. Agony pulsed through me in time with my heart, and I had forgotten how to breathe.
Something touched my shoulders, on my bare skin, and I screamed despite myself as flashes of white heat surged through me. The contact stopped and I lay in dark, blissful silence, floating along.
Finally, reality came back and I found myself lying on my side, my head cocked in the dirt. Randall hovered over me, concern creasing his face.
With effort, I pushed myself upright, my muscles tense and unforgiving. Randall crouched as if to help me up, but paused before touching me. He had probably tried to pick me up before and made everything worse. He put his hands out, ready to catch me if I fell as I staggered to my feet.
“I don’t think we can go that way,” I muttered, lazily wiping drool and dirt from the corner of my mouth.
He nodded, his worried gaze assessing me as we headed back the way we had come. I toppled into the wall and pushed off it as we stepped back into the main tunnel.
“I guess the same thing is down the other tunnel,” he said, gesturing toward the path not yet taken.
I grimaced at the thought that more than one of those awful traps could exist in the universe. The question was what purpose that frame had served. Just a mean trick? That didn’t seem right, but these days, nothing really did.
We took the second tunnel, because the only other option was to go back the way of the demon goat and that sounded even less fun. At the end of this tunnel hung another matching frame, but red lines of magic traced the interior edge. It looked a bit like when Joseph had opened Eliza Brown’s portrait, but there was no painting here either. Past the frame, the wall no longer seemed to exist, instead boasting an empty abyss of darkness.
“Head back?” Randall suggested, already turning away, but I reached up and grabbed his arm.
“It’s different.”
He glanced back at the empty frame. “What is?”
“The red lines,” I said. “I think, maybe, it’s…open.”
“Open?” he asked, but strolled forward, reaching for the frame.<
br />
I jogged up to him and ducked under his arm so I stood in front. Magic was my thing, for better or worse. I would put my hand into the trap first.
I held my breath and tentatively reached into the middle of the frame. My hand slid through, into the darkness, disappearing from view up to my wrist. I felt warmth on the other side.
“I’m going through,” I said, and then ducked through before either of us came to our senses enough to stop me.
Light filled my vision, and I stepped forward, staring up in awe as if the heavens had parted.
In a way, they had.
It took a moment for me to realize that the light wasn’t sun, but artificial. I took a few steps, stiff-legged and tender, and found I had entered into a hallway in a house, like we had emerged from a doorway and not a tunnel across town.
Behind me, Randall ducked through a large empty picture frame on the hallway wall. He blinked, rocking back on his feet, as he took in the view.
“I got nothing,” I said.
He gave me a silent, agreeing look, and I took his hand as we crept through the hallway. I kept my ears alert, listening for any signs of occupants. The house seemed still. I couldn’t decide if it was peaceful or unnerving.
Of the few doors lining the hallway, one stood ajar. I strode over to it and, gripping the knob, dared to peer inside. The lights were on, but the room was empty.
A tall wooden wardrobe stood to one side, and a large bed with an intricately carved white headboard rested opposite of it. The end of the bed and a small chest held down an enormous flower-patterned rug.
There were no indications of who might have lived here, or if they still did. Perhaps they had gone to the Mardi Gras parade and been turned into mask-wearing demons. No one expected an evil mage to come into town.
Not that I had any idea where the mage had gone off to. He seemed to be doing a lot of damage without having to make an appearance.
I pushed back the thoughts and found myself strolling over to the wardrobe. Curiosity had the better of me, though I couldn’t say why. Randall remained in the doorway, but his gaze locked onto me and followed my every move, as if he were ready to launch into attack at the first sign of danger.
