by Roland Smith
I’m taking the left shaft for no other reason than it is slightly bigger than the other shaft.
It has a low ceiling. I have to keep my head down most of the way. A quarter mile down it opens into a big cavern with five openings. Three are directly in front of me, and two are on either side.
I’m taking the middle of the three in front, again because it appears a little bigger than the openings on either side.
I should mention here that all the tunnels I’ve passed appear to be long. I haven’t been able to see the end of them with my brightest flashlight, but I suspect that some of these tunnels intersect with each other.
It’s a maze down here, easy to get lost, easy to get confused.
Speaking of which …
I’m getting confused, or more accurately …
I’m getting anxious.
The rock walls are damp. They’re cold to the touch, but I’m hot.
I’ve stripped down to my T-shirt. But I’m still sweating. My left hand still throbs. I’m still out of breath.
I’m not doing well.
This tunnel goes on forever. It’s descending two thousand feet — maybe more.
My ears are popping. I’m thinking about turning around. I’m not sure if I have the strength to make the climb back up the tunnel.
What’s wrong with me?
“What are you doing down here?”
“Who’s there?”
“How many people are with you?”
“Where are you?”
“How many?”
“Just me.”
“Then who were you talking to?”
“Myself. I’m talking into a tape recorder. Where are you?”
“Turn your headlamp off, turn the tape recorder off, and don’t talk so loud. Sound carries for miles down here. People will hear you. You could be hurt.”
I need to get this down.
In every detail so I don’t forget our first face-to-face meeting …
After the voice in the dark — the first voice I’d heard in days — I heard footsteps, then nothing for a full minute until someone whispered …
“What are you doing down here?”
It was a young girl, by the sound of her voice.
I couldn’t tell how far away she was.
My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet.
“It’s not safe.”
“I know,” I said. “I think I’m lost.”
“That’s not what I mean. Getting lost is the least of your worries. You shouldn’t be down here at all. You’ve crossed the River Styx. No one has ever come back after crossing.”
I laughed. The River Styx is a mythical river separating Earth from Hades written about by the poet John Milton in Paradise Lost, and by Dante in The Divine Comedy, which wasn’t at all funny.
The girl didn’t think it was funny either.
“I’m serious. They know you’re here. They’re looking for you.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“You know as well as I do. The Pod.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m a member.”
“Were you looking for me too?”
“Yes, and you’re lucky I found you first.”
“Why?”
“Because I can get you out of here before they find you.”
“I don’t want to get out of here.”
“Then you’re crazy.”
“A little.”
She turned on a small flashlight and pointed it at my swollen hand.
“And you’re hurt,” she said.
I saw her face for the first time.
The light was dim, but there was enough to see.
Black hair. Pale blue eyes. Petite. Wearing jeans and a pink sweatshirt.
She was beautiful.
She had a flashing Bluetooth in her left ear. I was curious about the Bluetooth, but I was more surprised about how I was feeling.
Tongue-tied. Anxious. Embarrassed.
Feelings I wasn’t very familiar with.
I wasn’t sure of the cause. It was either because I had given more credence to the Community’s description of the Pod as demonic barbarians than I’d thought, and I was ashamed I had listened.
Or else there was something very special about this girl, something …
“What happened to your hand?” she asked.
“No big deal. It’ll be fine.”
“It’s infected.” She took a closer look. “Badly infected. It’s not going to get better on its own.” She flashed the light on my face. “You’re sweating.”
“It’s hot down here.”
“It’s sixty-two degrees. It’s always sixty-two degrees in the Deep. You have a fever. You need to go above and have your hand looked at. Get some antibiotics and then rejoin the Community. Never return … and never tell anyone what you saw down here.”
“I haven’t seen anything down here.”
“Perfect answer,” the girl said.
“You don’t understand,” I said. “I really haven’t seen anything down here, and I’m not going above until I do. Why do you have a Bluetooth?”
“So I can hear the radio transmissions.”
“How do radios work Beneath without towers?”
“That’s not important. What’s important is that you get out of here.”
Something rubbed against my leg.
I looked down.
It was a little brown-and-white dog with a curled tail.
“What’s his name?”
“Her name is Enji.”
I squatted down and scratched her head with my good hand.
“You’re starting to make me mad,” the girl said.
“Why?”
“Because you’re not listening to me. Because you don’t believe you’re in danger. Because I’m trying to save you and you’re totally ignoring me.”
“Sorry. I know your dog’s name, but I don’t know your name.”
“Kate.”
“Glad to meet you, Kate. I’m —”
“Coop,” she said.
“How —”
“We watch the Community, but I knew about you long before you went Beneath. I’ve watched you tap above.”
“Wait! You’re the girl with the shades. I’ve seen you above on the street. I’ve tried to follow you!”
“I know,” she said. “Why did you try to follow me?”
“I don’t know. Curiosity? Why were you watching me?”
“Maybe I like tap dancing.”
I laughed. “I didn’t know the Pod ever went up top. I thought you —”
“Only a few of us are allowed up top. The Community couldn’t possibly supply us with everything we need. And there are things we need and do that we don’t want them, or anyone else, to know about.”
“Like what?”
She didn’t answer.
I tried another question. “You’ve watched me tapping?”
She looked away, embarrassed, and said, “Several times.”
“Was I any good?”
“We don’t have time for this. They’ll be here any minute.”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
She looked back at me.
“You could die.”
but they didn’t catch up to us until we reached the gondola.
There wasn’t time to throw the hook and pull ourselves across the Styx.
I didn’t want to cross anyway.
Kate led me down a side tunnel, then pushed a large rock away from the wall.
“Stay inside. Don’t move until you’re certain it’s safe.”
I crawled inside, and she rolled the rock back into place.
There was barely enough room for me to sit up.
Kate was right about one thing.
My hand felt like it had been smashed by a sledgehammer.
I couldn’t catch my breath.
The dogs arrived first.
They snarled and pawed at the rock.
The dogs ran off. Seconds later I heard footsteps and saw flashes of light through the cracks around the rock.
“Did you see him?” someone asked.
“He was trying to get the gondola across,” Kate answered.
“What did you do?”
“I pushed him into the river.”
“You should have waited for us.”
“It was easy. He was standing on the edge trying to throw the hook across. He didn’t even know I was there. He dropped like a rock. Hit his head on the wall twice on the way down, slammed into that outcrop, then he disappeared beneath the surface. I think he was dead before he went under.”
“You still should have waited, or at least radioed in. He might have hurt you.”
“What would you have done?” Kate asked.
“Probably the same thing … Get Max on the radio. He and Susan are at the river cave. Tell them to keep an eye out for a floater.”
“It’s not likely they’re going to find one. He was wearing a heavy backpack.”
“Did you recognize him?”
“No.”
“Not a member of the Community?”
“Definitely not. He was just a kid. Probably doing some urban exploring.”
“How do you feel?”
“About pushing him into the river?”
“Yes.”
“Happy,” Kate said. “You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.”
“That’s my girl. Get the dogs. Call off the chase.”
or passed out.
I opened my eyes.
Pitch-dark.
Just the sound of the Styx in the distance.
No voices.
No snarls.
Every bone in my body felt broken.
I pushed the rock with my good hand.
It didn’t budge. It took both feet to move it.
Kate was a lot stronger than she looked. And a lot tougher by the harsh words she used describing my alleged death.
I crawled out and had to use the wall to get to my feet.
I stood in the dark wondering what I should do.
Drink water.
Eat.
I stumbled down the tunnel to the Styx hoping Kate had stashed my backpack.
I couldn’t find it.
All I had on me was my headlamp, recorder, pocketknife, and watch.
I looked at the watch and thought it was broken. I couldn’t have possibly been crammed in that hole for ten hours. But the digital seconds were clicking by one by one.
Ten hours of feverish oblivion.
There wasn’t a morsel of food, but I did find an old empty can.
Pork and beans.
I punched a hole in the side with my knife, lowered it into the torrent with the hook and rope, and drank about a dozen cans of rusty water.
After that I felt a little better, but I still had major problems.
My hand. Kate was right — it wasn’t going to get better on its own.
Food. It would take me at least two weeks to get back to the Community. I’d starve before I got there.
Light. My headlamp was working fine, but it wouldn’t last. I couldn’t make it back to the Community without light.
My thoughts were spinning.
There had to be a shorter way.
I must have been walking in circles before I found the opening.
It couldn’t possibly take the Pod two weeks to get up top.
The men and women Kate was talking to at the river would have killed me.
Kate saved my life.
Kate watched me tap.
She’s part of this.
But I’m not sure what role she plays.
If I go back now, I might never see her again.
I’ll never discover what I’ve been looking for.
By the sound of it, Kate is way up in the Pod hierarchy.
Why did she risk her position — maybe her life — saving a complete stranger?
I want answers.
If I make it back to the Community, I might never get them.
“Why are you still here? Why are you still talking into that tape recorder?”
“Quit sneaking up on me!”
“I thought you’d be long gone by now. If you’d been listening instead of talking into that recorder, you would have heard me walking up.”
“Did you hear what I was saying?”
“Some of it.”
“Did you throw my pack into the river?”
“I had to make it look good. They snagged it downriver. They were disappointed you weren’t attached to it.”
“Everything I own was in that pack.”
“Now everything you own is in the hands of the Pod. You can replace it all when you return to the Community.”
“I’m not going back up to the Community. It took me weeks to get here. I’ll starve.”
“Enji will lead you back. I don’t know how you got down here, but it will take you twelve hours to get back to the Community if you hurry. Maybe a bit longer in your condition.”
“I’m staying.”
“You’re delirious. Didn’t you overhear the conversation I had with the Pod?”
“ ‘You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.’ ”
“Not that part. The part where Lod couldn’t care less about me pushing you into the Styx.”
“I thought Lod was a myth.”
“He’s no myth.”
“He seemed concerned about how you felt after pushing me into the river.”
“He’s protective of me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m his granddaughter.”
“How long have you been down here?”
“I was born in the Deep.”
“How many of you are there?”
“I don’t know. Not all of us are in the Deep. We have people …”
I had this irrational idea that I needed to breathe … through my ears.
The space had gotten impossibly tight.
With every ragged breath, my chest touched the rock overhead.
Kate moved faster, as if she could sense my panic.
“Can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Breathe.”
“I …”
“We’re close to the end. Keep up. Fifty feet.”
“We’re out. You’re safe.”
I heard the words, but they weren’t clear.
They were too far away.
I was too far away.
Where was I?
Something wet touched my face.
I tried to sit up.
Something held me down by the shoulders.
“Not yet. You’ll pass out again. Rest. Breathe.”
The words sounded closer.
I was gasping.
I opened my eyes.
Kate was looking down at me.
She had a wet cloth.
She wiped my face.
Gently.
“How —”
“Don’t talk. Save your breath. You almost made it. Ten feet short. I had to crawl out and come back in headfirst to get you. I thought you’d had a heart attack. You stopped breathing.”
My chest hurt.
Maybe I did have a heart attack.
I closed my mouth and tried breathing through my nose.
It didn’t work.
“You’ll be all right in a few minutes.”
A few minutes passed.
I was not all right.
I sat up and nearly blacked out.
Kate gave me a sip of water.
Finally I could breathe through my nose.
“Tell me we don’t have to go back through there again.”
Kate smiled. “I already told you: Coop is bigger than you. He’d never make it through.”
“Good.”
I took another sip of water.
“Thanks for pulling me out.”
“
It was the least I could do. I was the one who made you go in. And to be honest, I didn’t think you’d make it as far as you did. That passage sometimes makes me panic, and I’ve been through it a dozen times.”
“You were born in the Deep,” I said. “Your grandfather is the Lord of the Deep.”
“We have some time, and you should probably rest for a while.”
“You should probably tell me what’s going on.”
“What’s that?”
“The title of a song from 1965, written by a musician named Bob Dylan.”
“So?”
“Just listen. You’re going to need your strength for the rest of the trip.”
She took a drink of water and continued. “In the song there’s a lyric that goes, ‘You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.’ In the late 1960s my grandfather was one of the cofounders of a group called the Weather Underground Organization, or WUO. They came to be known as the Weathermen, and they blew up government buildings and banks to protest the Vietnam War.”
“Your grandfather was a terrorist?”
“Don’t talk,” Kate said. “Back then they were called radicals. The Weather Underground always warned people before the bombs went off so nobody would get hurt. Or at least that’s what he told me …”
A look of doubt crossed her face. It was the same expression she had when I asked her if anyone had ever gotten away from the Deep.
She proceeded to give me the short history of the Pod …
Lod did not stand for Lord of the Deep … at least in the beginning.
His real name was Lawrence Oliver Dane.
In 1974 he led a group of thirteen faithful followers Beneath. He and a couple of the others were wanted for bank robbery, destruction of government property, kidnapping, murder, and several other lesser offenses, but they were all presumed dead, killed in an explosion and fire, and removed from the FBI’s Most Wanted list in 1973.
Included among his followers were his wife, his son, and his son’s wife (Kate’s parents).
Lod had not gone into the Deep to hide. He had gone down the rabbit hole to establish a commune and continue the work of the Weather Underground, which was to destroy the US government.
The Weathermen who remained above were arrested, served their time, and most were now living relatively normal lives — their radicalism subdued or redirected.
But not Lod.
His life and the Pod’s were anything but normal, and their radicalism was more extreme than it had been in the previous century.
