by Scott Mebus
The soft light grew stronger as they approached the bottom of the stairs. Soka could hear the loud drip of water sliding down the old stones, each drop sounding like a gunshot in the quiet stairwell. They reached the bottom of the stairs, where a trapdoor waited in the middle of the floor.
“This must be the air lock,” Fritz said. He hopped down off Clarence and gave the rat a pat. “You wait here, old boy. The ladder’s a killer. We’ll be back soon enough.”
“Let’s go spelunking!” Bridget said brightly, leaning over to lift the trapdoor. A sickly yellow glow rose up out of the hole in the floor, but Rory didn’t hesitate before climbing down through the hole, with Fritz riding on his shoulder. Bridget followed and Soka went last, pulling the trapdoor shut after her.
The room they descended into was just large enough to hold them. An old lantern lit the space from one high corner, though it barely beat back the shadows. A round wheel poked out of the wall, and a second wheel rose out of the floor next to another trapdoor. Soka guessed it led down to the caisson. On the wall near the ladder hung a strange-looking clock, with a single arrow pointing up to the number 0.
“That’s the pressure gauge,” Fritz told her, noticing her confusion. “That tells us when it’s safe to go down, and later, when it’s safe to go up.”
“So now what?” Bridget asked.
“Now we pressurize,” Fritz said. “Soka, could you turn that wheel by you on the floor?”
Soka leaned over and gave the wheel a big turn. The sound of air hissing into the room cut through the silence, and the arrow on the pressure gauge began to move, sliding past number after number as the air pressure rose to match the pressure down in the caisson. Finally, the hissing stopped, as did the gauge.
“Can I open it now?” Rory asked, kneeling by the trapdoor.
“Yes,” Fritz answered. “But remember, this is the easy part. The hard part will be when we come back. Then we’ll have to reduce the air pressure and wait twenty minutes before opening the trapdoor above us. Any sooner and Rory and I run the risk of being crippled or even dying. Soka is a spirit, so she should be safe. I don’t know what would happen to you, Bridget.”
“I don’t want to find out!” Bridget said. “I’m already feeling a little weird.”
“Emily said the air pressure can play tricks on your mind,” Fritz warned them. “Some of the men reported hallucinating while they worked. So stay focused, find the package, and then we get out! Okay? Rory, I said, okay?”
“Okay,” Rory answered impatiently, his hand on the trapdoor. “Can I open it now?”
“Yes.” Fritz lifted his helmet over his head and nodded. Rory pulled up the trapdoor and it fell over with a thump, making them all flinch.
“Careful!” Fritz warned. “We don’t want to attract any attention.”
But Rory was already disappearing down the ladder, taking Fritz with him. Bridget followed and finally Soka climbed behind them into the depths of the caisson.
They climbed straight down through a cramped shaft barely wide enough for their bodies. Even Soka could tell the air was strange down here—she felt it pushing on her like an invisible hand trying to suffocate her. The shaft was pitch-black, with only the dim light coming from the air lock to cut through the darkness. Soka felt like she was descending into hell. Eventually, flickering red light began to rise up around them, and then suddenly they passed out of the shaft and into the caisson proper.
The ladder led down to the rocky ground, where they carefully stepped off the final rung and gathered in a small group. Gazing around, Soka felt a shudder run through her. This truly was a hellish place. The caisson looked more like an ancient underwater cave than a man-made room. Rocky walls rose up on all sides, though wooden walls separated various sections of the caisson from one another. Wooden supports rose up along the rock wall every few feet, keeping the ceiling, and the entire bridge, from falling down on top of them. Red light from various lanterns cast devilish black shapes onto the walls.
Everywhere they looked they saw the shadows of men, swinging pickaxes into the stony ground or lugging wheelbarrows filled with rocks toward larger shafts, where they dumped their cargo into large containers at the base. One such container, completely filled, began to rise up its shaft, disappearing into the ceiling. That must have been how they cleared all the rubble from the site, Soka guessed. The men spoke to one another in low tones, but Soka could not pick out any words. It sounded like meaningless rumbling. The only other sounds were the bite of the pick into the stone and the grunts of the men. Soka swallowed—she prayed none of the shadow men looked in her direction. She clutched her bow, which hung from her shoulder as always, but she didn’t know if an arrow would do any good down here.
“Quick, let’s find it and get out of here,” Fritz whispered. Soka remembered Emily’s instructions. She’d hid the package beneath an overturned wheelbarrow near one of the wooden walls. Soka gulped as she looked around—the caisson stretched on in every direction, seemingly without end. Which wall did she mean?
“I’ll go this way,” Rory said, and started to walk off in one direction. Soka grabbed his arm, holding him fast.
“We stick together,” she hissed. “Otherwise we’ll never find each other again.”
Rory started to argue, but then he reluctantly nodded. They picked a direction and began to walk toward the nearest dividing wall.
That particular wall didn’t have any wheelbarrows nearby, and neither did the one after that. Soka’s heart was in her mouth as she glanced around—with every second that passed she grew more fearful that one of the shadow workers would notice them. But so far, they stayed away, keeping to their work. As they searched, however, a new worry cropped up. The first sign came from Rory, who kept glaring at the walls.
“Someone’s watching me,” he muttered. “I can feel his black eyes on me.” In his fear, his voice grew louder. “Where is he? I can feel him!” Soka placed a hand over Rory’s mouth to shut him up, furtively looking around to make certain no one heard them. They checked the next wall—no wheelbarrow. Now Bridget was starting to look uncomfortable.
“Soka, I don’t want to freak you out,” the paper girl said quietly, pulling out her little wooden sword. “But I think my sword is whistling. Do you think the shadow guys can hear? What song is that? It’s on the tip of my brain! Man, it’s killing me!”
“It’s the air,” Soka whispered. “It’s making you hear things. We’ve got to find this package quickly before we all go crazy.”
“Too late,” Fritz said from his place on Rory’s shoulder. He started to talk louder, as if struggling to be heard. “I feel like I’m inside a seashell!”
“It’s ‘Jingle Bell Rock!’” Bridget exclaimed. “I love Christmas !”
“Be quiet!” Soka hissed. “It’s all in your head!” Some of the shadow men had started to glance in their direction. It was only a matter of time before they realized they had strangers in their midst. At the next wall there was a pile of stones, but no wheelbarrow.
“Maybe somebody is using the wheelbarrow,” Bridget suggested. “Man, I could use some eggnog right about now.”
“Emily swore that the wheelbarrow hadn’t been used in a century,” Soka reminded her. “These men are locked in a hellish routine. They’ve got no reason to change it.”
“We better find it soon,” Rory said through gritted teeth. Soka was alarmed to see how haggard he looked. “I can’t take much more of this demon’s voice in my head. Wait, what’s that!”
The next wall had come into view, and there was a wheelbarrow, overturned near the rock wall. Before anyone could react, Rory bolted forward, staggering as he pushed through the heavy air to reach Emily’s hiding place. He righted the wheelbarrow in one smooth motion, sending it clattering against the wall. The shadow men had really started to notice them now; some were leaning against their pickaxes and watching them with great interest. Even their mumbling had started to hum a little louder, though Soka still could
n’t make out the words. She had a bad feeling about this.
Rory was oblivious, however, desperate to escape whatever voice he was hearing in his head, and he dug through the dirt where the wheelbarrow had been with his bare hands. Bridget knelt down next to him and began to dig as well; her paper-and wood hand cut through the dirt more easily than Rory’s flesh ones. But Rory dug with such abandon that Soka worried he’d hurt himself. She glanced around—the shadow men were still watching. She tried to gauge the distance from their spot to the ladder—it seemed a mile away.
“I found it!” Rory shouted, the compressed air making him completely heedless of the shadow men. He lifted a brown wrapped package into the air, dirt still falling in clumps from his prize. In his elation at finding the treasure, he didn’t watch what he was doing, and his other hand grazed a sharp rock by his knees. A red line appeared along the back of his hand, and a single drop of blood landed on the ground.
A hush fell over the caisson as all work ceased and the mumbling dried up in an instant. Rory didn’t seem to notice, but Bridget was looking around with worry on her face and Soka could feel her stomach turn as she realized that every single shadow man was staring at that drop of blood. The murmuring picked up again, growing louder and louder, but this time Soka could make out a word being repeated over and over again.
“Mortal. Mortal. Mortal. Mortal. MORTAL!”
“Rory!” she called. Rory looked up, his eyes widening as he saw the spirits all around. “Rory, we’ve got to run. Are you ready?”
“Wait!” Fritz ordered them. He pulled something out of his armor. “Go on my signal.” He tossed something through the air, which landed at the feet of the nearest men. A loud crack sounded, making the shadow men leap back in confusion.
“RUN!” Fritz screamed, and Soka took off, Bridget and Rory behind her. The shadow men’s confusion didn’t last long, and soon they were giving chase. Fritz threw firecracker after firecracker at the men up ahead, clearing a path to the ladder. But it looked so far away.
It didn’t help that Soka felt like she was running through mud, forcing herself to push forward. Rory passed her, his face in agony as he pushed himself to move faster. A group of shadow men reached out to grab him and he kicked them away, reaching down to grab an ax on the fly. The package still tucked under his arm, he flailed the ax around one-handed, trying to clear a path.
“He’s like the Terminator!” Bridget gasped at Soka’s side. But then a shadow man ducked, letting the ax swing wildly above his head, before reaching for Rory’s throat. A thwack sounded through the air as an arrow appeared in the man’s chest, driving him back. Soka lowered her bow.
“Even Terminators need help,” she said, and ran to catch up with Rory. Soon she was firing arrows left and right as she ran, even as Fritz continued to toss firecrackers. There were just too many of them. Bridget began throwing rocks at the scores of attackers, but she couldn’t keep up—for each man struck, three took his place. They reached the shaft, and Soka gasped. The ladder was completely surrounded by shadow men. How were they going to get past them all?
“We’re trapped!” Fritz exclaimed.
“No!” Bridget cried. She held her sword up high. “Ready, Buttkicker 2? Time to deal some justice!”
With that, she ran toward the ladder, blindly whacking at the group of shadow men before running into them headlong and toppling them like bowling pins. The shadow men recovered quickly, trying to stop the dynamo in their midst. But Bridget was like a girl possessed, and she beat back everyone in her way, opening up a passage to the ladder.
Soka ran up to Rory, grabbing his arm even as Fritz kept the shadow men around them at bay with his firecrackers.
“Come on!” she cried. “Your sister is clearing the way!” Together, they ran for the ladder. Bridget continued her battle, smacking any shadow man who came too close. One of her fingers was bent back unnaturally and some of her hair littered the floor. But Bridget smiled proudly.
“I’m a superhero!” she cried before smacking another shadow man in the face. She looked so happy that Soka feared she’d never be satisfied as a simple mortal again. She pushed Rory to the ladder, turning to send more arrows flying into the seemingly endless army of shadow men. Even close up, she couldn’t make out their faces—they were only sweaty bodies in dirt-streaked clothes. But she knew what would happen if they got too close.
“Bridget,” she called out. “Time to go!” Bridget kicked at the large group of shadow men before climbing up the ladder. Soka turned to send another arrow into the mass of shadow men that now completely surrounded her.
“Come on!” Rory screamed from above her, and Soka spun, leaping halfway up the ladder and starting to climb. A hand reached out to grab her ankle and for a horrifying moment she was certain she was about to be pulled down into the mob. But Fritz sent one more firecracker down the ladder, knocking the hand clear off and freeing her to climb.
It seemed to take forever to make her way up the shaft in the dark. But finally she spied the yellow light of the trapdoor. With a relieved sigh, she pulled herself into the air lock. But her relief was short-lived as Fritz looked down through the trapdoor.
“They’re coming!” he warned them, sending another firecracker down the hole. “That didn’t even faze them. We’ve got to close this trapdoor!”
Bridget sprang forward, yanking down the trapdoor just as hands appeared in the opening. She slammed the door down a few times until the hands fell away and she could finally close it. Before they could relax, however, the trapdoor began to shudder, as if someone were beating on it. The hinges began to rattle with each blow.
“The door won’t hold for the twenty minutes it takes to decompress,” Fritz said. Soka looked around at the brave battle roach, the loyal paper girl, and the determined Rory Hennessy. She reached out to touch his face.
“Good-bye, Rory,” she said quietly, the fear in her stomach gone. It was time for her to do the protecting. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Be well.”
With that, she turned to the trapdoor, pulled it open, and dropped into the hole.
She landed on top of a mass of shadow men hanging from the ladder like mindless animals. Looking up, she reached for the trapdoor she’d just opened and grabbed it.
“Whatever happens, don’t open this door!” she shouted, and then pulled it shut, leaving her in the dark with the shadow men. She kicked down, hard, driving the men away from the trapdoor. She wasn’t mortal, so she knew they weren’t as keen to take her, but that wouldn’t stop them in their killing frenzy. She wouldn’t let them pass, however. She refused to let them get to Rory. He would survive, if it took everything she had.
She began to feel warm, and then suddenly she realized she could see a little. Something was lighting her way. The warmth intensified and she was able to make out the faces of the shadow men below her. They were black as soot, eyeless, with red slits for mouths. The light grew brighter and she suddenly knew where it was coming from. It was pouring out of her. All the magic she’d been missing for the past few days flowed through her again, only this time it was tenfold as strong. The light grew blinding as the power flowed through her and she suddenly felt the earth surrounding her. She was a part of the land that gave her strength. Her mouth opened to say the words and she dropped like a burning stone into the mass of attacking shadow men, exploding like a sun melting everything in its path . . .
Rory stood frozen, staring helplessly at the trapdoor Soka had just dropped through. He felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. What was she thinking? She’d pulled the door shut before he could stop her. He fell to his knees by the door, reaching out to grab it.
“Don’t touch that!” Fritz yelled. “Don’t waste her sacrifice!” Fritz ordered Bridget to turn the wheel on the wall, which she did, and the air began to hiss. The gauge dipped lower and lower, but with painful slowness.
“And now we wait,” Fritz said, pulling off his helmet. He looked devastated, and Bridget fell in
to the corner, sobbing her dry tears. Then, suddenly, the ground began to shake. Rory had to reach out to steady himself as dirt fell on them all from the ceiling. Finally, the rumbling ceased, leaving them all looking to one another in confusion.
“Was that an earthquake?” Fritz asked. He placed his hand on the trapdoor, pulling it back with a gasp. “That’s hot!”
Rory held his hand above the trapdoor, which indeed radiated heat. “What did she do?” he muttered.
“I don’t know,” Fritz said. “But whatever it was, it sounds like the shadow men have been beaten back.”
Bridget collapsed in a new wave of crying, and Rory reached out to give her a hug. She fell into him, clinging to him as she sobbed. Finally, her crying slowed, and Rory leaned back against the wall, exhausted and heartbroken.
Time passed, so slowly, and they didn’t speak. They were in too much pain. Rory didn’t even bother to pull out the package Soka had sacrificed herself for. It hurt too much. Finally, the gauge hit zero. Fritz crawled over to Rory and climbed into his shirt pocket. “Time’s up,” he said gently. “Let’s go.” Forcing down his tears, Rory pulled down the trapdoor and climbed up the ladder. Clarence was waiting for them, and Fritz hopped aboard his rat steed, leading the way back up the stairs. The climb up seemed much longer than the descent. Their steps were heavier with their loss. Rory kept visualizing Soka’s face before she left. He could still feel her lips on his cheek. It had sent his heart racing. But then she was gone.
They reached the top of the stairs and stepped out onto the bridge. The sun had set, but the beautiful lights of New York City lit up the sky in every direction. And all Rory could think was that Soka would never see these lights again. She’d just begun to live her life outside of the Trap, and now it was over. He’d never see her again.
He walked over to the rail, where he had watched Soka gazing with wonder at the Manhattan skyline. He would remember that look on her face, so beautiful in her delight. He would remember it always.
