by Holly Hook
I scan the area for a tower. Something I can walk towards. Somewhere I know where to go. There must be a park ranger kiosk or something around here if I'm in a national park. A radio tower, or something.
But what I do see makes my heart stop.
The moon, hanging low over the horizon and faint in the sunlight.
Only it's not right. The moon is larger than I remember and more brownish than the gray orb that I'm used to.
And there's a second sphere in front of it and down to the left, a grayish one that's bulging out at the sides as if something is making it stretch out into a weird shape.
This sky has two moons.
Not one.
I back away into the edge of the cliff, heart pounding. It takes all I can to keep looking at the sight as I catch my breath.
Chapter Four
First Night
I am not in the same world.
The gateway. Mr. Larconi said something about a gateway.
To here? Or back to the regular world?
Where am I?
Was the gateway that weird electric feeling that washed over us as we descended through that stairway? It must have been. The rock changed after that point, before we even got down to the mine. We really did pass into another world. The police have no chance at finding us. They won't even find the gateway if Larconi and Roger are boarding it back up.
The questions spin through my mind as I watch the two moons in the sky. I blink and blink to make sure that second one is still there. I wouldn't be seeing this if I was still on Earth. The large moon is twice the size of the regular moon as if it's closer. The second one hangs low as if it's trying to pull away from the first one. Maybe that's why it looks so stretched like that. The gravity from the big moon is pulling at it like a bully and it can't get away.
I can't believe I'm thinking this.
Another world. It can't be. I must still be passed out and lying in that mine under Badwater. I want to hang onto that explanation because it's sane. This isn't.
Or maybe I'm dead and this is where you go when you die. It's some kind of hell where you work for little gnomes for all eternity.
That doesn't make sense, either. Larconi and Roger wouldn't have mentioned a gateway or a way back if we were dead. I'm still alive and I'm walking around in another world that may or may not have living people in it that can help me.
The terror of my situation comes crashing down.
I might be utterly alone out here.
The way back must be through that mine. And those gnome things...no wonder scientists never found them wandering around in mines. They're not native to Earth. They're native to here and Talia's former foster home was just an area that allowed them to come through and snatch her. It's why Lily Abner took the lights out of Talia's room and boarded up the window. It was to allow those things to come and take her in the middle of the night and to leave her with no defense. Talia got snatched Thursday night and those things took her down to the depths, never to return to the normal world again.
This is her home now and even that's not going to last long.
You won't survive the night.
I remember those words and stand. Rock slides under me. I'm at the top of a hill, looking down on a vast, pristine wilderness.
Alone.
And I don't know what to do.
What's going to come out at night? It could be anything, if those Dwellers are any clue. Are there dangerous animals out here? Mountain lions or bears or worse?
There could be. Just the Dwellers themselves pose a threat.
I have to get moving. But do I head back to the mine and let the last of my phone's battery guide me through? I still have the flashlight app, but it won't last long. It might drain my phone in ten minutes. I can go down there and search for the stairway that leads back to my world, but it might be no use. I have no idea where to go and the Dwellers will find me before I even get close. But I can't just leave without Shawn. And if I do manage to get out, any police I send down to that mine will end up here, too.
And the battery could quit in the tunnels, leaving me in darkness forever. Even if I can avoid the Dwellers down there, there's little hope of surviving long enough, feeling along those walls and finding my way out before I die of thirst. I at least have water up here.
My stomach growls.
Panic explodes through me and my heart leaps into my throat.
What am I supposed to eat out here?
There's no refrigerator, no restaurants and no fast food joints. There's no reception and I can't order a pizza. I glance at the river, to where another pair of fish swim above the gravel. They struggle against the current, trying to make it upstream against the flow. Those fish are suddenly a lot more important. But how do I catch one? Cook one? I don't know how long I'm going to be here.
That could be the rest of my life, if I don't find help.
“Hello?” I call. “Is anyone out here?”
My voice echoes off the cliffs and flies into the sky. Another bird takes off into flight. There's no way I'm going to catch one of those fish by hand. Shawn would know what to do out here. He used to fish all the time with his grandfather, but even he had a fishing pole and a lure to catch them with. I have nothing but this axe and that's not going to do me any good here.
And I'm still within a few miles of that mine entrance. It's mid afternoon by now.
I have to move.
I can think about that later. I have to make sure I live through whatever the night is going to bring.
There has to be somewhere I can hide while I figure out how I'm going to feed myself.
I walk. It's much easier, going downhill. There's dirt here, stamped down by bird feet and flattened by water. Nothing but annoying weeds grow up on either side. They slap against my jeans. At least I have water and it looks clean. Clear. I hope. I think of bacteria and e coli and all those things they talk about on the news that poison food and cause companies to recall their products. Are those in this water as well? What about that scary brain eating amoeba I read about online? That might be here, too. God. I'm going to have to drink this and I have no way to boil it first.
Already, my throat is getting dry and sore. I've been walking in the heat and my feet are growing achy.
I reach the bottom of the first hill, to where the water bubbles up as it rolls over some larger rocks. One of the fish leaps out of it, splashing water in my face. I drop the axe and lean over. Cup some of the water in my hands. Take one drink, and then another. It's cool and tastes just as clean as the well water at Shawn's house. I still might get the runs from this and die. I could get sick, but it's a risk I have to take.
Keep going, Elaine. Shawn's voice echoes in my head like he's my coach through all of this. He'd say something about how we could boil the water to make sure it's safe, but what do I have to boil it with? I have no pots or pans on me. Nothing to start a fire. Oh, God. I might need that tonight, to hold back whatever horrors the dark will bring. Other things might live underground with those Dwellers, waiting for the opportunity to come out and hunt.
I walk faster. My feet sink into mud. My shoes are getting dirty, dirtier than I've ever let them become. Mom would be furious if I walked into the house with these. When am I going to get a bath again?
I check my phone again. It's useless. No bars. And there never will be again. I can't even get on Facebook to let everyone know I'm stranded in another world.
The trees grow tall around me again. Birds chirp and insects buzz. It's so strange to hear nothing else but that and the wind.
“Hello?” I call, cupping my hands over my mouth. Maybe I shouldn't shout and give away my position. “Hello?”
Something snaps. I jump to see a flash of light brown. It's a small deer, tearing through the trees and underbrush. At least, I think it's a deer. It has sunflower-yellow spots on its coat, spots that shine in the sun. It bounds away, yellow tail waving back at me.
Not everything here is dangerous, then.
&n
bsp; “Hello?”
I really shouldn't be doing this. There could be someone out here I don't want to meet. There could be more Flamestone Society members out here looking for escaped miners. But someone's had to have escaped at some point if the Flamestone Society has been operating more than a few years. There could even be a settlement out here, far away from that Dweller hole. It would be next to a river. Next to resources and next to an easy way to travel. That's what I would do if I made a settlement.
But that's a huge if.
Another deer-creature bounds away from me, vanishing into the emerald glow of the forest. The world is so lush and green. I walk slower and catch my breath.
My stomach growls again, so loud that I can hear it this time.
How long has it been since I've eaten? I should have stayed for dinner at Mom and Garrett's. They would have made something awesome. Garrett might have even used his griddle and made us all some breakfast food. My stomach growls again just thinking about it. I could have eaten anywhere from a few hours to a day ago.
I want to be home, so, so bad.
The underbrush is thick. I spot several bushes with purple, round berries hanging off in clusters, almost like grapes. They grow in the shade of the smaller pine trees, the young ones that haven't had time to spring up to two hundred feet. Those berries could be toxic. What if in this world, the berries are so poisonous that even one can kill you?
I pick one of the berries, smash it between my fingers, and smell it. I gag. It smells like rotten dish water. I'm not eating that.
And my skin starts to burn where the purple goo's touching it.
It burns more. And more.
“Ouch!” I scream, rushing to the river.
I dunk my hand in the water and another fish swims away. Cool relief washes over my fingers and I keep my hand there until the burn is gone. I take my hand out and examine the skin. My fingers are a bit red from the contact, but the skin's intact. I don't want to think about what would have happened if I didn't have this water right here.
I smell again to make sure it's gone. Check. The berries—those burnberries—are out, then. I'm just glad I didn't try to eat one first.
There must be something else. It's not like I'm in a barren wasteland. I have to keep walking. Or should I? There might be no one out here at all.
I pass a pile of pinecones, sitting right on the edge of the river.
Something's strange here. I stop.
They're arranged in a neat circle almost as if someone's put them here to mark a path. An animal could have done it, but I can't be sure. This is a perfectly round pile and the pinecones have been stacked on it with care. Some of them even look picked apart, as if whoever or whatever has put them here has foraged for food.
And they're gigantic pinecones, the size of corncobs.
Are there seeds in these?
Can you eat them?
“I guess I'm going to find out,” I say out loud. I don't even feel stupid that I'm talking to myself. What am I going to talk to in this world? That guy in the one movie had a volleyball with a face. What am I going to use? A rock, maybe. But what do I paint it with?
I laugh and face the two moons in the sky. I'm losing it.
“Come on, Elaine,” I say. Maybe I've stumbled on something, some kind of marker that someone's set up for people who escaped from the mines, a sign to tell them they should keep going down this river. It gives me hope. No animal would do this.
My stomach rumbles again and I have to try to eat something. I've never heard about pinecones poisoning anybody—but these aren't Earth pinecones. Or are they? The trees don't look much different from the ones back home, except for their size and age. Maybe, sometime far back in this world's history, a squirrel or something wandered into a gateway and brought some seeds here.
It's worth a shot. I pick up the first pinecone and tear at the little gaps. A few seeds pour out into my hand, little helicopters with raised middles. There's a pine smell that reminds me of the stuff Mom uses to clean the kitchen floor. There are no bugs. I'm not touching those.
I pour five or six of them into my hands and stick them in my mouth.
Chew.
They're not too bad, a bit woody, but somewhat like the pumpkin seeds I used to bake with Mom every Halloween. They won't be enough to sate my hunger, but they're something. I sit next to the pile and go through the each cone, spending time tearing them apart and pouring the seeds into my hands. I didn't even know you could eat this stuff. So far, I'm not dropping dead, but my stomach growls, begging for more. This is just an appetizer. It's no meal. I'll have to find something better, and fast.
My hands ache by time I get through the entire pile and my stomach still rumbles, but not quite as bad. This might get me through the rest of the day if I'm lucky.
I look up at the sun.
Curse.
It touches the edge of the cliffs that I've left behind. It's going down. Once darkness falls over this emptiness, those Dwellers come out. They stampede this way. It makes sense that anyone who escapes from that mine entrance will follow the river. There's no other way out of that valley. If they have any amount of intelligence, they'll come this way.
I stand up. Look at the forest around me.
It's thick and darker inside. Light cuts through the trees, forming beams that cast whatever they touch in brighter green. Dark shadows form under the trees and a shape moves in the distance. A twig snaps. I hope it's another one of those deer.
I'm not going in there. I know nothing of this world except that there are Dwellers and burnberries. There could be predators in those woods. And where do I hide? It would be one thing if I could climb a tree, but their trunks are too high and the first branches don't even start until about twenty feet off the ground. There's no way I'd make it up one and besides, heights terrify me. I'll have to find some other option, and something close to the river. I have no compass. If I get lost, I stay lost.
I put my backpack back on, grab the axe, and rearrange the pile of pinecones in a circle for the next person to find. Assuming it isn't Larconi or Roger. Or maybe I should mess them up and throw them in the river so they don't think it's me who did this.
I kick at them and send them all into the water. I rub out my footprints from the moist earth with the edge of the axe and start to walk again.
Shelter.
I need shelter.
There's no way I can start a fire tonight with what I have.
The river slopes downward again and the landscape grows rockier. Large boulders jut out of the ground, but none are high enough for me to climb and feel safe. There could be things flying around in this world for all I know, giant bats or something that come out at night. I'm not going to take that risk.
The light turns long and tired. The sky's turning orange on the horizon and I look behind me to see bright orange and yellow beams coming from behind the cliffs. It would be a beautiful sight if it wasn't for Roger and Larconi's words.
“Come on, Elaine,” I tell myself. “Do something. Get somewhere.” My stomach rumbles again. I ignore it. Food will have to wait until morning. “Get somewhere and hunker down for the night.”
Then I spot it.
Another large set of boulders, huddled together like they're frightened of whatever's going to come. And right in between two of the largest ones is an opening, just large enough for me to crawl through. There's darkness inside, but I don't care. It might work. If I can get inside and block it off with something, I might have a chance of avoiding the Dwellers and whatever else might come out at night.
I take out my phone. It still has a use after all.
I turn on the flashlight app. I shine the light inside the boulders. It lands on dirt, stone and pebbles. It's a space about eight feet long and three feet wide—big enough to fit me for the night. It'll have to work. I search around for something to block the entrance with. I need something heavy. I spot a few smaller boulders and try to lift one.
Nothing. It's
so heavy that I don't even think Travis could lift it.
“Crap,” I say. What am I going to use? I'll need something lighter, something that will block off the whole entrance. Stones won't work. I don't want to trap myself. My heart pounds and my head aches with the stress. My feet cry out in pain. “I need something, please.”
Branches.
They lie at the feet of some of the trees, on a carpet of browned pine needles. I spot one not too far away, about a hundred feet in the woods and right under a beam of dying light. It's fresh. Covered in green pine needles. It's thick enough to serve as a curtain for the night...but maybe not thick enough to stop anything that really wants to get in.
It'll have to work. I have nothing else.
I rush over and grab the branch. It's heavier than I expect. I pull it along the ground and my arms ache with the effort. Sticky sap gets between my fingers. It makes a loud dragging noise as it scrapes across the needles. The light is dim now, bluish almost. I have little time. When it gets dark out here, it's going to get dark. Once I have no light, I'm done.
And then I hear it.
A loud screaming sound from somewhere distant. Something's waking up. The scream stretches out for a few seconds, then fades. It sounds as if some monster from the depths has risen and let out a war cry.
I freeze. How far away is it?
It comes again. Louder. Closer.
I really have to go to the bathroom.
“Later,” I tell myself. “Later.” I don't want to meet whatever's making the sound. I drag the branch over to the boulders and squeeze myself into the opening. At least it smells clean in here and nothing seems to be using it at the moment. I have to crouch. I drag the branch inside with great effort. I want it on the inside, so whatever's out there can't simply pull it off the entrance to my little cave and snatch me out.
“Come on!” I shout. I bend the branch and a pine smell fills the little cavern. It cracks a bit and I shove it up against the entrance, blocking out most of the light. It's lodged between the two walls of the cave. Only little pinpricks of blue manage to get through the thick needles that now block the way. I'll be able to tell when it's morning, at least.
