Carl looked up at the starry sky, at the misshapen shadows of the surroundin trees, at the water in the lagoon, anywhere but at the lights. Leastways he tried not to look. But as much as he wanted to stop it, his gaze kept driftin back to the sinkhole…and the lights.
They’d set him here on the ground, his back against one of the Indian hut support posts. They’d been ready to tie his hands behind him when they remembered that he only had one, so they lashed him to the post with coils of thick rope around his arms and body.
He’d overheard Semelee mention that Jack had found her shell but how’s it would have to wait till tomorrow. Tonight was too important.
The air was warm and wet and thick enough to choke a frog—maybe that was why they weren’t peepin. Even the crickets had shut up. The lagoon and its surroundins was quiet as a grave.
The lights had started flashin a little after dark, strange colors and mixes of colors he never seen nowheres else. That was when it really got crowded around the hole. But there’d been lots goin on before that. Luke and Corley and Udall and Erik had been settin up some sort of steel tripod over the mouth. It had a pulley danglin from the top center where the three legs came together. They threaded a good, long length of half-inch rope through it, then tied that to some sorta chair.
He kept telling himself, Naw, she ain’t really gonna do that. She ain’t that crazy.
But come full dark, when the crazy flashin colors was lightin up the trees and the water, sure enough, Semelee put herself into the chair. She was danglin over the hole, with the lights reflectin even stranger colors off that silver hair of hers, and then Luke and a couple other guys Carl couldn’t recognize cause their pan-o-ramic backs was to him started lowerin her down into the hole.
After she disappeared he could hear her voice echoin up from below.
“What’re you stoppin for? Keep me goin!”
Luke called out, “You’re deeper’n you should be already. How much to go till you hit the water?”
“Can’t see no water. Looks like it all dried up.”
“Then where’s the bottom?”
“Can’t see no bottom, just the lights.”
“That’s it,” Luke said. “I’m haulin you up now.”
“Luke, you do that and I ain’t never gonna speak to you again! You hear that? Never! It’s like nothin I could ever dream down here. The lights…so bright…all around me…feels like they’re goin through me. This is so cool. You keep on lettin out that rope. I want to see where they come from.”
Carl wasn’t sure of a whole lotta things in life, but he was damn sure that was a real bad idea. He was glad he was back here, away from the lights. He would’ve liked to be even farther, like in his trailer watchin TV. He was missin all his Friday night shows. But he couldn’t worry about that now. He had to get outta here.
He’d been usin his hand, workin at the knot behind his back, but this was one good knot. When you lived out here in the wilds, specially on the water, you learned how to tie a good knot. But that didn’t keep him from tryin to loosen it up.
“Keep a-goin!” he heard Semelee call up from the hole, her voice faint and all echoey like.
Luke shouted, “We’re almost outta rope!”
“Take me down to the end! As much as you got!”
Good, Carl thought. They’s all concentrated on her.
If he could just get this knot loose, he could sneak down to the water and steal a canoe and slip away real quiet like. He could be long gone before anyone noticed. Then he’d—
He jumped at the sound of a scream, a long tortured sound like someone havin their skin tore off—not just a piece, but the whole thing.
Everbody around the hole started shoutin and callin and movin this way and that. Four-five guys was haulin on that rope as fast as they could. Finally they got to the end. Carl caught a peek between the shufflin bodies and saw Semelee still in the chair. But she was all slumped over like a piece of fish bait and not movin a muscle.
She looked dead.