They have been walking for a while when Cole speaks up.
“Maybe we should have gone the other way.”
Reid is used to the boy by now and lets Cole talk.
“The hunter must have come from that way,” Cole says. “Which means it could have been the way he came in.”
“Or he got lost like us and sidetracked like us and fell in the damned hole.” Milo stomps along like Cole’s words offend him.
“True.” Cole shrugs. “No way to know, really.”
“Exactly,” Milo says. “So shut the hell up already.”
Cole does, sullen and hurt. Tempers have been short since the kids attacked the hunter. Reid doesn’t want to think about it anymore and does his best to ignore their sniping.
Now that his thirst is taken care of for the time being, Reid is even more aware of his hunger. It’s been a long time since he had a solid meal and he’s feeling it in his muscles. They are forced to take more and more frequent breaks as the kids run out of energy. He knows they are at the end of their endurance and wonders how much longer they can keep moving before he has to start making tough decisions.
Like leaving kids behind.
Reid has become so used to the regular placement of bulbs he notices immediately that something is different ahead. He stops, the kids shuffling to a halt behind him. Leila is right there with him, her pale eyes fixed on the stretch of tunnel ahead.
Or would be if there was any light to see.
While Reid’s tired mind stumbles over the stretch of black ahead, the kids behind him look up and pay attention. Their mutters of concern turn to anxious chatter almost immediately. Reid can feel them pressing against the backs of his legs, as though he can save them from the black.
“This is bad.” Milo slides up on his left, flickering his gaze first to Reid then Leila.
Reid nods. “Maybe. We don’t know how many bulbs are broken. It could be just this stretch.”
Leila’s fingers squeeze his. “You’re right,” she says, face turned to him, voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “It’s probably just a burnt-out bulb. One stretch. We’ll be through it in no time.”
Reid adds her ability to feed courage to his list of reasons for loving her.
“What about the creatures?” Reid’s mind goes there the instant they are mentioned. His hand throbs in sympathy, memory fluttering to the shocked look on the boys’ face, the small, furry black ball with its shining eyes and massive mouth full of teeth.
“What about them?” Milo locks eyes with Reid. “They don’t like the light, remember? So how would they get in there?”
Reid can think of a dozen different ways, through a tunnel, a break in the wall. A hole in the ceiling or because this is, in fact, the end of the road, where the hunters are driving them to so the creatures can devour them.
But, instead of saying so, he just shrugs. “Only one way to find out.”
“You going first again?” Marcus’s mutter is harsh and full of judgment.
“No,” Reid says. “We’re staying together this time. Everyone, grab a rock.” He bends, finds one himself, happy with the weight of it in his hand.
“I thought this was just a broken bulb,” Marcus says.
“If you feel like taking a chance on that and being an idiot, be my guest.” Reid hefts his stone in his right hand, the pain from the broken bones somehow not as bad as it was. “Me, I’m taking a rock.”
They scramble about, searching for weapons. Reid ignores them, focusing on the darkness, as though he could peer through it to the bulb on the other side. He listens at the same time, sure he should be able to pick up the skittering stride of the creatures. But there is only quiet in front of him while the kids settle behind.
When he glances back to see if everyone is ready, he sees Marcus has a chunk of stone in his hand and refuses to meet Reid’s eyes.
“Stay close. Your free hand should be touching someone else. No one strays. If you hear something, hit first and ask questions later but don’t hit each other, okay?” They twitter a nervous giggle at him. “Smallest to the middle, older and taller on the outside. Everyone ready?” They shuffle their positions one last time. Reid makes himself smile at them. “We’re moving fast, so be prepared. Let’s go.”
He sets the pace. It’s a tough one, but he refuses to be in the dark any longer than they need to be. As soon as his foot passes over the last rim of light, his heart heaves in fear. Reid grips his rock tighter, free hand wrapped in the front of Milo’s shirt. He can feel Leila’s fingers tighten on the front of his own.
It won’t be long and they will be back in the light. He keeps telling himself that as the darkness goes on and on. He finds himself counting steps again, as the black envelops him and squeezes him tight.
There should be a bulb by now. He’s sure of it. Someone whimpers behind him and he knows he’s not the only one counting. Reid runs on, dragging them with him, two hands pulling against the back pockets of his pants. There is nothing but the black and their breathing, growing louder and sharper as they struggle for air. Reid knows the little ones won’t be able to keep up much longer and feels someone stumble, tug against him, almost throwing him off balance only to recover.
More black. A second bulb has gone by, he knows it. And his soul despairs. He has led them into the dark and they will never escape it. For all he knows they have passed the tunnel to the way out by now, missing it in the dark, this one only sending them deeper and deeper underground.
Someone grunts. “Wall.” Marcus. They have drifted sideways then, in their run. The panting is heavier, the cries of the weakest soft squeaks of protest through tortured lungs. Even Reid is faltering, ready to stop. He has to stop, they need to catch their breath but he doesn’t dare.
As they run he feels it. Something waits for them in the black, paces them. Is counting on them giving up. It is ready when they do, to pounce, to kill and to feed. Reid’s panic pushes his feet forward, drags the ones who cling to him along, forces them to keep running while the thing in the darkness breathes in his face.
He is sure he hears it laugh.
This time it’s Milo who cries out, running into Reid. “Wall!” The boy stumbles, trips, almost falls. It’s only by sheer will that Reid keeps him up by the grip on his shirt, dragging Milo along.
White sparkles appear around the edges of Reid’s vision, fed by lack of oxygen and panic. He groans, knowing this is the end, that none of them can run any further.
When he sees the light ahead, he is sure he is imagining it at first. That single glowing bulb, a flickering beacon calling them on. The kids cry out so he knows they see it too. With one last push of energy they surge forward as one, over the lip of the black and into the light.
The pack collapses together, gasping for breath, overcome with emotion. Most of them weep, Reid among them, while he turns and glares into the darkness and dares the thing that hovers to come out into the light and face him.
There is nothing. Only his imagination and his fear. And yet, Reid is sure if they had stopped, they would be dead, if only from their own terror.
He lets them rest for a while before prodding them back to their feet. When they head out they are actually in better humor than they have been, as though this small victory over the dark has given them some measure of joy.
Even Cole and Milo who so recently let their tempers get the better of them joke and laugh at little at each other as they go.
Reid notices a large gap coming up at the end of the tunnel and slows. Cole and Milo are in the middle of giggling and don’t see it until Reid gives them both a good-natured shove and points.
“Something ahead,” he says, turning his face so the sound travels to the kids in the rear.
The fear returns, so sharply it’s like a knife blade cutting all of them. They defeated the black once. But the thought of doing it again makes Reid weak. The pack slows, matching his pace. He finally gestures for them to stop and moves up on his own.
Not the darkness this time. But something new. The tunnel comes to an abrupt end, opening into a large, empty cavern. It’s still man-made, the edges carved, not made by nature, but it’s a nice change from the endless maze. It is as dimly lit as the rest of the mine, with single bulbs continuing with frustrating regularity along the circular walls. There is just enough to see a cage of some kind directly across from him.
When Reid finally realizes what he’s looking at, he can’t decide if he should be thrilled or terrified.
Milo breaths a low whistle beside him. “Is that an elevator?”
Cole, all antagonism gone, grins. “Looks like one.” He steps out but Reid flings one arm across the boy’s chest, bringing him to an abrupt halt.
“Let me go first,” he says. “Just in case.”
Reid doesn’t wait for them to agree. Instead, he strides out into the middle of the chamber, stops and waits. His whole body tingles a warning, his overactive mind certain he is being watched, targeted. But when five seconds pass and nothing happens, then ten, he begins to relax.
Reid spins on his heel and gestures for the kids to come out. They do in a rush, spilling into the large room, spreading out like they’ve craved the space their entire ordeal underground.
The elevator door is a cross hatch of steel, a cage as Reid’s mind told him in the first place. He pulls open the door, making a face as it creaks loudly, the sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. Inside is a simple panel with two buttons. There are arrows etched in them, faded but still visible.
“Up and down,” Cole observes.
“Duh,” Milo says. Both grin at each other like it’s funny and they weren’t at each other’s throats just minutes ago.
Reid steps inside and looks up. The ceiling is the same cage grating, showing the shaft above. It is faintly lit, more flickering light bulbs. He will be so happy to see the sun, the moon even. Anything but the constant baffling illumination they’ve lived with.
“Could be a trap,” Milo says.
“Could be.” Reid sighs. Aside from back tracking to the tunnel where they left the trapped hunter, they have no other choice.
“It’s not very big.” Cole looks up too, then at Reid. “Might fit nine or ten of us.”
Two trips, then. Reid nods and steps out. “Listen up.” They do, of course. Their need to spread out is gone as they crowd around, looking at the lift. “This is our best shot. Up should mean outside.” They sigh in relief at his words, like the very mention of escape is enough. “But we have to split into groups.”
Fear, their old friend. It shines from them, triggering his guilt. But there is nothing he can do.
“This is nuts,” Marcus says, pushing forward. “Leaving the mine is a death sentence. They’ll be waiting for us out there.”
“And staying isn’t?” Reid is too tired to fight.
“We’ve had more luck down here than we have in the forest.” Marcus looks around as though expecting support but he’s burned too many bridges.
“Since when did you think being down here was a good idea?” Milo’s attitude hits Marcus like a blow. “Seems to me somebody here was bitching about it not too long ago.”
Reid doesn’t encourage his young friend but refuses to stop him, either. Payback feels too good for that.
“This is our best chance,” Reid says, putting it to them. “We have no other choices.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t blown up our only escape route.” It’s muttered softly, Reid is sure not meant to be heard but he does hear, they all do, and amid the gasps from the other kids that Marcus would dare, Reid doesn’t think, only acts.
The first punch takes Marcus on the point of his chin and sends him flying backward to land on his back in the dirt. Reid is on top of him, punching him, the pain in his hands so bad he can’t land another solid blow but his fury as hot as it had been with Joel.
Hands pull him away before he can do much physical harm but the emotional damage is done. The kids are crying softly again, hopelessness taking over. Reid cradles his aching hands against his chest and spits at Marcus as he pulls himself to his feet.
“Drew gave his life,” Reid lunges forward, Marcus flinching from him, “to save us.” Reid spits again, this time to the side, bile in the back of his throat, his grief rising in answer to the emotional turmoil around him. “So you just shut the fuck up about that.”
Reid staggers around, back to Marcus, not caring anymore.
“Ten in the first group,” he says. And points out a bunch at random. At eight he turns to Leila. “You,” he says, spinning on Milo, “and you.”
They immediately protest. Reid cuts them off with a sharp chop of his hand and instantly wishes he hadn’t. The pain is horrible. “I need you two up there, taking care of the others while the rest of us follow.”
Leila reaches for him but he steps back. “How do you know I’m doing you a favor?” A laugh escapes him, bitter and harsh. “Just go. Now. Before something else happens.”
Reid closes the door on them, hearing the soft creaks and groans from the cage as it takes their weight.
Leila’s fingers slide through the cage and Reid touches them. “We’ll be waiting for you,” she says.
“See you soon.” Reid nods at Milo who presses the up button.
Somewhere an electric motor hums to life. The elevator jerks upward, drawing a collective scream from the kids inside before settling into a slow and ponderous rise to the top. Reid steps under it, eyes locked on Leila’s for as long as possible, her looking down at him through the grate in the floor.
They listen in silence there on the bottom for a long time, waiting for the grinding and groaning to come to an end. When it does, they all sigh in relief, even Reid. After another eternity that is only a few minutes, the sounds start up again, the chain and cable that supports the cage reversing direction.
Reid looks away and sees Marcus glaring at him. It takes everything he has left not to flip the guy off.
There is someone in the elevator. Reid panics a moment, wondering if something happened but it is only Milo who waves down at him. The cage settles back on the ground and the boy shoves the door open with another protest of angry metal.
“All aboard,” he says. “Last trip.”
“What’s up there?” Reid asks as he helps kids get on ahead of him.
“Not much,” Milo says. “Two tunnels. The others are exploring.”
Reid scowls but before he can protest, Milo shrugs. “Leila’s in charge,” he says. “You shouldn’t have sent her if you didn’t want them looking around.”
Reid grins at him. “Fair enough.”
He is about to board the cage when Marcus shoves past him, forcing kids aside, to stand next to the buttons. Reid doesn’t say anything, just turns and looks behind him, some instinct triggering his need to check his back.
And sees something glitter. He almost ignores it but can’t, his curiosity winning over good sense.
“Hang on,” he says, jogging at an angle across the room.
“Let’s go!” Marcus sounds like he’s in charge or something. Reid ignores him and crouches in the dirt. He digs with his fingers around the shiny object and pulls it free.
A knife. He can’t believe it. It’s a small weapon, the folding kind, the blade only as long as his palm, but it’s the first one he’s had since he lost the hunting knife when Joel set him up. The blade is shiny despite being buried and Reid wonders where it came from.
He straightens and flips it closed, working the hinge a few times to kick out the dirt. Reid grins down at it.
His first bit of luck in a while. Reid slides it into his back pocket and turns to go back to the elevator when he hears Milo scream his name. Reid freezes, spins to where the boy is pointing.
A hunter stands at the tunnel entrance, staring right at him.
***