by Greg Dragon
We run into the darkness, which becomes deeper as we get further from the fire. The space narrows and forms a tunnel, and soon we’re running blind, yet again. Roc manages to get a light out of our pack and flick it on.
We should’ve kept running in the dark. The images that flash into view will forever haunt me, burned into my memory till the day I die.
Skeletons: some fully intact and leaning against the wall; others broken and mangled, scattered on the floor; yet others mounted on the walls like trophies—here a skull, there a foot. It doesn’t take a genius to know they didn’t die from natural causes, that their flesh was bitten off by ragged teeth.
If I hadn’t had so little to eat in the last couple of days I’d throw up all over myself. Instead, I dry heave, as my stomach pulses repeatedly in an attempt to upchuck anything that’s left in it. Roc’s doing the same, bent over his knees, convulsing.
I spit out the little bile that has forced its way into my mouth, steal the light from Roc, and shine it further down the tunnel. The trail of skulls ends just a few feet down the path; nothing blocks our escape.
“C’mon, man,” I say, flicking off the light and tugging at Roc’s elbow. Huddled together, we shuffle through the dark, until I’m sure we’re far enough away from the…the stuff.
I turn the light on just in time to see that the tunnel is curving tight to the left. Roc seems to be recovering, so I release him and let him walk on his own.
It isn’t until we’ve walked for a couple of hours that I feel safe again. Neither of us has spoken, lost in dark thoughts, reliving the horrors we’ve just experienced.
Finally, Roc says, “All those people…” His voice sounds numb, like he still doesn’t really understand what we’ve seen.
“Nothing we can do for them now.”
A few more minutes of silence, and then Roc says, “Tristan, I’m sorry about what I said. I was just scared, that’s all.”
I grit my teeth. As angry as I was when he questioned our pursuit of Adele, I have to admit that there is some truth to it, which makes me even angrier. I feel foolish. Stupid! “No, Roc. You’re right. I dragged you into this mess. And for what? To find some ridiculous Moon Dweller girl who causes me pain every time I get near her. What the hell are we doing out here?”
Roc sighs. “I have thought that at times,” he says. “But then I think how noble it is that you’re taking a risk, defying your father. I don’t know how it’s all going to end, but if we don’t go, we might regret it for the rest of our lives. I feel like maybe we’re meant to be doing this.”
Roc sounds so solemn as he speaks, as if our trek across the Moon Realm is a sacred quest and not just me chasing after some random girl, who happens to be an escaped convict and possibly dangerous. He also makes it sound like we’re in it together. It isn’t my quest, but his, too, and he’s in it to the end. Given the argument we had just before we were about to be roasted on a spit, it’s a complete one-eighty for him.
“So we keep going?” I say.
“I was just trying to make you feel better,” Roc says with a smirk. “It’s not like we have another choice—can’t go back.”
He’s trying to downplay the wisdom in his words, but I know better. He isn’t just trying to make me feel better. He truly believes—like me—that we’re meant to be on the path we’re on, for better or worse. Better would be finding Adele; worse would be falling into the evil clutches of a mad cannibal woman with super strength. My guess: we might end up somewhere in between.
But Roc’s words have more than just cemented my belief that we’re doing the right thing. They also make me think about what we’re doing and why. To this point, it’s been all about finding Adele, keeping her safe, and potentially, if the fake suns and moons and stars of the Sun Realm align, questioning her about why being near her causes me such agony. But now it feels like there’s some deeper purpose to it all, one I want to explore.
“What did you mean when you said you thought we were meant to be doing this?” I ask as we continue walking.
Roc wrinkles up his face, squints his eyes. “I don’t know, it’s probably nothing, but…”
“What?”
“I just feel like we have a chance to make things better. You know, for everyone. I mean, the secrets your father is keeping from the moon and Star Dwellers, people should know that stuff.”
It’s been a while since Roc and I have spoken about my father’s secrets. Well, one particular secret really. I’m one of only a handful of people that know, but I told Roc anyway. At first I was stunned, but later I realized it wasn’t that surprising. It is my father, after all. I don’t see the connection to our current situation, though.
“What’s that got to do with us?” I say.
“I don’t know. It popped into my head just now. It feels like we’re in the middle of something big, or at least something bigger than what we thought.”
“You think Adele’s involved in something?”
“No…I mean, I don’t know, maybe. In any case, that’s not important. What’s important is what we do at the end of all of this, or maybe at the same time, whichever makes more sense. I think we need to tell people about what your father is doing.”
I think about it. I guess I’m not as big a thinker as Roc. I’m so focused on my own little world, my own feelings, that I don’t really consider whether we could—or whether we should—do anything to help other people, particularly the moon and Star Dwellers. I remember during the bombing when the Moon Dwellers helped us, took us in, guided us. People like that deserve a better life.
Despite the plethora of thoughts running through my head, all I reply is, “Maybe you’re right.”
“As usual,” Roc says.
We have no idea where we are, so we just keep walking in a straight line, hoping to emerge from the Lonely Caverns soon. We still have plenty of food in the pack—our Moon Dweller captors hadn’t even bothered to empty it out. Still, if we don’t find our way out soon we’ll have little chance of tracking down Adele.
Thus, I’m ecstatic when we run into one of the main tunnels through the caverns. I’m cautious, too, because I have no idea where our captors were headed—for all I know they might be just in front of or behind us, waiting to pounce. We move swiftly through the main tunnel without incident, meeting no other travelers.
It’s late at night when we reach the entrance to subchapter 16, the land of the waterfall caves. Although we’ve received no authorization to travel within the Moon Realm, we purchased some fake papers before leaving the Sun Realm. As we use them at the border, I keep my head lowered and my hat on to ensure I’m not recognized.
“Mr…Garber…from the Sun Realm,” the border guard says. “It’s a pleasure to have a Sun Dweller in our humble city.” He says something similar to Roc, and lets us both pass straight through. A man wearing miner gear behind us is being patted down for weapons. They’re asking him question after question about his reason for entering subchapter sixteen, whether he’s carrying any weapons, whether he’s received proper authorization to travel intra-Realm, and on and on. Even in his own Realm, being a Moon Dweller hurts this man.
Anger courses through me but I don’t turn around, try to forget about it. Now’s not the time.
At long last we’re back to civilization. Or at least the closest to civilization that my father’s ridiculous taxes allow the Moon Dwellers to be. The subchapter is dark, but has a decent number of street lights. I can’t speak for Roc, but I’m desperate for a real bed.
We head for the commercial district. I can vaguely remember the city zoning—a domed, circular cave with a reservoir around the outside and the city built outwards from the center—from my previous visits, but Roc remembers far better, so I let him lead.
Although we feel relatively safe, we stick to the shadows, avoiding passing directly by any late-night strollers, and choose a deserted street from which to select a hotel. And it’s a good thing we’re careful. We’ve just taken a shor
tcut through a seedy alley, and are about to turn onto a main street, when we hear a chorus of footsteps moving toward us.
We shrink back into the alley, deep into the shadows, and peer to the street beyond. A group of Sun Dweller troops—at least eight—run past us, moving toward the city center. I only see the leader for a moment as he flashes by, but I’d recognize him anywhere.
Rivet is back in the game.
Chapter Nineteen
Adele
“They’re here!” Tawni exclaims.
“Who?” I ask, above the roar of the waterfall.
Tawni and Elsey splash into the water to join us. They’re breathing hard, already soaked from head to toe like us, a result of jumping through the series of waterfalls.
“Rivet, I think,” Tawni says. “We heard them coming down the tunnel. A man was talking—I think I recognized his voice from the telebox.” Tawni’s eyes are wide and white.
“We don’t know that they’ll come through the waterfalls,” Cole says.
“Yes, they will,” I say. “They’ll have maps. They wouldn’t have wandered down this tunnel by mistake. It’s probably a shortcut.”
“But how will they get down?” Elsey asks. Her eyebrows are raised and her head cocked to the side. She looks more like a child than she has since we rescued her, innocent and naïve.
“They might have ropes,” I say. “But we don’t.”
Finally, Cole agrees with the opinion I’d already voiced. “We’ve got to jump.”
“And it’s got to be fast,” I second. “They could come through any moment.” I glance at the waterfall, expecting Rivet’s scarred face to emerge from the water in slow motion, his teeth replaced with fangs, his fingers sporting daggers for nails.
The waterfall remains untouched.
I feel like the hourglass on our lives is all but empty. We don’t have time to sit around sipping tea and eating muffins and discussing the pros and cons of jumping off a cliff into untested waters. Plus we don’t have any muffins. Or tea.
“Me first, then El, Tawni, and Cole,” I bark. I don’t have time to wait for agreement from the others. Waiting means death.
I step up and jump, not allowing myself any time to chicken out.
I should’ve at least thought about how I would jump. In my mind I’d pictured a perfect swan dive, floating through the air with grace and elegance. But my body instinctively tries to go straight down, feet first. Because of my uncertainty, I end up halfway in between, my body horizontal, chest facing down.
Belly flop time.
My heart is in my throat, and I’m feeling something between utter fear and complete elation. There’s no time to think, but at the last minute I try to turn my body to improve my landing. It doesn’t help.
When my shoulder hits the water I think I might’ve jumped too far and landed on the stone—that’s how hard the impact is. Rather than a splash, I make more of a vicious thwap! when I enter the water. Pain shoots through the nerves in my shoulder, running quickly down my arm and into my hand. When I feel myself sinking, however, I realize it’s the water that has literally put the smack on me.
The water closes in around me and I’m transported into the belly of my childhood nightmares. Falling down the well; thrashing in the water; sinking into oblivion; no way out. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt scared of water. Growing up, my dad forced me to conquer my fear, taught me to swim. Slowly, I grew to love the feeling of water rushing around my body. No! There’s no well—not this time. I can escape this nightmare.
Ignoring the pain and bad memories, I kick upwards. Once, twice, thrice: finally breaking the surface. I want to scream with pain, but I hold it inside me, trying to get through it by punching the water with my uninjured arm.
I look up and realize I’m still directly below the tunnel entrance. By kicking hard, I manage to get far enough away from the landing zone that I won’t accidentally break someone’s fall with my head.
I see Elsey jump. Her launch is more timid than mine was, but far more effective. She drops feet first in a perfect pencil dive, barely making a splash as she cuts through the water. Although I watch closely in case she needs help, I’m not worried about her; like me, El is a strong swimmer, and clearly a better jumper. A few seconds later she bobs up, smiling, like it’s just a normal day down at the swimming hole.
“That was glorious, wasn’t it?” Elsey says, swimming over.
“Not the word I would choose,” I mumble, rubbing my shoulder while treading water using only my feet.
Seconds later, Tawni’s white hair whooshes from above as she executes the perfect swan dive that I’d imagined for myself. “Just great,” I say, my shoulder hurting worse than ever. Or perhaps it’s my pride. It’s definitely one or the other.
At least I did better than Cole, whose big dark body flails down from above like he’s being attacked by an angry horde of flapping bats. In the meantime Tawni has resurfaced, so we all have a good laugh when Cole creates a liquid mountain upon smacking into the water.
My laughter doesn’t last long, however, as twenty seconds pass and Cole has yet to reach the surface. Even under the dim glow provided by the overhead cavern lights, the water looks as black as oil.
I squeal as something grabs me, pulling me under. I kick away from my attacker and come up spluttering. Tawni and Elsey are laughing.
“What the hell was that?” I say.
A deep voice from behind me says, “That was for laughing at me.” It’s Cole.
“How’d you even know I was laughing? You were underwater.”
“I just knew,” Cole says, a twinkle in his dark eyes.
“Well, what about them?” I say, motioning at the other two. “They laughed, too.”
“You were laughing harder,” Cole says, his face as serious as stone.
I shake my head. “Rivet could be right behind us, we shouldn’t be messing around. We’d better keep moving.”
If Rivet and his new gang of men are in the tunnel above us, we never see them, which suits me just fine. I hope I never see his evil mug ever again.
It feels strange being in a Moon Dweller city again. Although we’ve only been out of subchapter 14 for a few days, it’s the longest I’ve ever been away from the place. I know I shouldn’t be nostalgic but I am. Maybe subchapter 14 hasn’t been particularly kind to me as of late, but I still have a ton of happy memories there, before everything got so messed up.
The other weird thing is that we’re just passing through. It feels like after such a long, hard journey through the Lonely Caverns, we should stay awhile, see the sights, try the local fare—I don’t know, something. But that’s not an option. We’re wanted criminals, our faces known across all the Tri-Realms. There are probably plenty of Moon Dwellers who would be willing to help us, but we have no idea who we can trust. Someone pretending to be our friend could turn us in a second later, seeking a reward.
We’re dripping wet, traveling on the outskirts of town, trying to decide what to do next, when Cole says, “I don’t think this city has been bombed, has it? Just normal Moon Realm deterioration.”
We can’t see much from where we are, so I stop, trying to remember the view from above the waterfall. The city had looked pretty amazing, and definitely intact, a far cry from the smoldering wreckage of our subchapter.
“I don’t think so,” I say.
“I hope they stop that dreadful bombing soon,” Elsey says.
“Me, too, El. Me, too.”
“I’m simply famished,” Elsey says.
I’ve been ignoring my hunger for three days now, but suddenly at the thought of food, my stomach constricts, groans, twists up.
“I could eat,” Cole says, opening his pack. It seems like he’s always hungry.
“Not that stuff again,” Elsey says. Despite her overdramatic description of the food in the orphanage, she’s already growing tired of our canned beans.
“We could all use some real food,” Tawni notes.
&n
bsp; “Sure, let’s just waltz into town, looking like we crawled out of a sewer, pop into a café, shove a fistful of Nailins at the owner, and walk out with a bunch of food,” I say.
“For your information, I was thinking of something a bit more discreet,” Tawni says.
I sense the slightest hint of anger in Tawni’s voice, which is unlike her. If she starts getting mad at my misplaced, ill-timed sarcasm, this is going to turn into a long trip. Perhaps it is time to take a risk—for all our benefit.
“I could go steal some loaves of bread,” Cole offers. “I’m good at that.”
To be honest, I’m shocked. Now that I know the true story—that there was no bread, only heartache and pain—I can’t believe he can still make such a joke. To me it’s more proof of his strength. That he can be such a happy, funny, good person, after all he’s been through, is simply incredible. I even manage to laugh at his joke—because I know he wants me to.
Tawni smirks, quickly snapping out of her rare bad mood. “I was thinking more like we wait until nightfall, sneak into the city, and have Elsey pay someone to get us some food.”
“Why Elsey?” I ask.
“Because her face will be less likely to be recognized,” Tawni says, shrugging. “I’m sure she’s been on the news, too, but she’s not a wanted criminal.”
“I don’t know…” I say.
“I’ll do it,” Elsey says. When I frown, she says, “I can do this, Adele. I know I can. Please let me help.”
I take a deep breath. It makes sense and I’m tired of beans, too. “Okay. On one condition: that we stay close by in case you have any trouble.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Elsey says, waving me off as if my suggestion is the most obvious thing in the world.
The cavern returns to its natural shade of black as night falls and the lights are extinguished. The street lights remain on, but barely cast enough light to highlight the roads. We wait patiently in the dark, slowly drying out, until we’re sure it’s safe. Although I’m anxious to keep moving, I actually enjoy the break, and use it as a chance to speak to Elsey.
