Ascent: (Book 1) The Ladder (2 page)

Chapter Three

            Well away from the entrance to the vertical tunnel, the escaping teenager climbs higher up the Ladder. As he stares up the tunnel shaft, peering as far up as his eyes are able, the light seems to be swallowed by an infinite darkness. The observation would be a fact if it wasn’t for the spots of light that look to get higher and higher yet sparser and sparser.

            The lights inside the mouth of the tunnel only get dimmer as the teen climbs higher. It doesn’t take long for doubt to set in. The conditions of working the mine are dismal at best. Over the years and as the kids grow up, some of them figure out that hard labor is and always will be their life. And while they’ve only seen pictures of the surface and been given the promise that one day they’ll actually ascend from the Mines to the open air of the ground above, none of them can speak of a friend or anyone who has ever done so. All they know is that up must be better than down. Enough have tried to make the trip up the Ladder that those below know the consequences. Still, every now and then a few of them feel they must try.

            As the tunnel darkens with the distance between lights growing farther apart, the certainty of the Mines becomes more and more appealing. Bad as they are, at least they’re familiar. For all the tiring work and harsh conditions, the Mines are still home. The teen shakes off the thought and continues up.

            For the most part, the tunnel looks the same all the way up. Rock walls with some stone jutting out. The orange hued light illuminating the wall distorts its real color but farther from the light, it’s easy to tell the dirt-covered surface of the stone is a dark gray mixed with darker patches of red clay. If it wasn’t for the bottom of it being exposed, anyone would think the brown Ladder is black as it all but disappears, blending with the tunnel’s walls between the sparse patches of light.

            As the teen climbs higher, he worries less about anyone coming after him. After all, the Guard has never chased anyone up the Ladder. He’s never had to. But the teen’s speed does slow as he cautiously makes his way up.

            Passing one last light, he looks up to see a green spot on the wall, its light slightly diffused by the swirling motion moving around in line with it. He grabs the cable connecting the lights and shakes it in an attempt to find out what the swirling is. The cable passes through it, harmlessly but the green light doesn’t move at all. It’s a strange feeling to fear escaping what most would call a bad situation.

The teen looks back down but can only see the lights at the bottom of the tunnel. The tunnel opening has practically disappeared. The teenager presses forward.

            Nearly under the green light, he sees that it is the only one attached to the wall. Structurally, it’s very different from the other lights. The other lights of the tunnel are like those in the bunks, small, singular bulbs that are warm and of an orange hue. If it weren’t for the living conditions, those lights would be rather comfortable and inviting. The lights in the Doctor’s office and in the Gear Halls are a white, piercing illumination. Typically they are long tubes installed in rectangular boxes attached to the ceilings. But this green light looks like a cup turned upside down.

            The teenager reaches for the light and touches it. It is not hot like the bunk lights and it feels sturdier than the lights of the Gear Hall. He looks at the surrounding swirl in which he’s found himself. The smog cloud is a shade lighter than the green of the light illuminating it. It takes little time for his lungs to be affected by the cloud as they try to reject the smog through coughing. It’s a deep cough but it is difficult to expel the swirl of green in which he stands. Deciding it’s better to get above it, he continues past the cloud, discovering that it hangs in only the one spot. It neither rises nor falls.

            The time for investigation quickly grows short as the coughing gets progressively worse and more frequent. If that doesn’t halt the teenager’s climb the sudden onset of vertigo certainly will. It doesn’t help his grip that the world has become a clash of tilting back and forth, in and out. The teenager hooks one of his arms around the nearest rung of the Ladder for fear of losing his grip under the dizziness. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate on making the tunnel stop moving.

            Looking back up only reveals more of the lights farther and farther apart. And with the feeling of vertigo, the lights look to be moving even further still. He looks down and notices that even the fog cloud seems farther beneath him. With more and more coughing, he realizes that going up the Ladder has become more dangerous than he originally thought and he longs for the familiarity and safety of the Mines.

            The decision made, he unhooks his arm from the rung and nearly loses his balance. With difficulty, he steadies himself. He wants down as quickly as possible but definitely not that fast.

            With slow but sure steps down, the teenager goes back through the smog cloud, trying his best to hold his breath. If a moderate amount in his lungs makes him feel like this then more can only make it worse.

            He lowers himself through the cloud and is tempted to look up at what could have been but thinks better of it and keeps his attention on each rung that he passes. Focusing on one point helps with the dizziness.

            As the cough worsens, it’s a relief to see the tunnel lights become more frequent and in greater numbers.

             It becomes more obvious that he is closer to the bottom as the tunnel brightens and the sound of voices becomes louder. Some of them are yelling for him to go back while others urge him to hurry down. He knows he is back at the mouth of the tunnel as the brightest of the lights flood his vision. His foot enters the Junction, followed by the rest of him. He finally looks down and sees the Ladder is surrounded by other kids, all yelling. The noise echoes in his ears, amplified by the vertigo, almost making him lose his grip. But he is able to recompose himself. He takes one more step down when a strong hand grabs his ankle and yanks him off the Ladder.

            The teenager hits the ground and panics as the air is forced out of his lungs. It’s painful but grants a temporary halt to the coughing. The Guard reaches down, grabs the teenager’s shirt and yanks him off the ground. The teen tries to catch his breath but success only serves to bring back the cough.

            “See? You all come back. And what did it get you? You got the Sick. I should put you in the Ban with it. Let you think about your choices.” The Guard sneers at the coughing teenager.                  The teen’s legs wobble as they try to find solid ground behind the vertigo but the Guard won’t let him find his balance.

            “Let me through,” a voice urges from behind the Guard. The Doctor pushes her way through the mob of kids. “What is wrong with you? He needs to be quarantined immediately. Before we’re all infected.” She grabs hold of the sick teenager and works hard to pry the Guard’s hands off of him.

            The kids surrounding them quickly raise their hands to cover their mouths. Some of the bigger kids cover the mouths of the younger ones. It is a rare thing that the Sick is caught too late. Most of the time the Doctor gets to it fast enough to save the rest of the Mine. Further infection is rare but it has happened before.

            “If we had machines doing the mining, this wouldn’t be a problem,” the Guard calls out as the Doctor helps the teenager through the crowd of kids to her office.

            Joe looks at Lauren with his shirt covering his nose and mouth. Lauren kneels on the ground with her own hand covering her mouth and another covering Marvin’s.

            “That could have been you,” she scolds.

            “Don’t get the Sick, Joe,” Marvin seconds with genuine concern in his voice.

            Joe knows that they’re right. Of course they’re right. It’s the one rule of the Mines. No one goes up the Ladder. Certainly not without something bad happening. Still, he looks back at it and tries to figure out how to make the climb work, but also wondering if it is even a good idea to try. After all, no one has ever made it to the top. As far as any of them know, anyway.

            “Get to work, Slingers,” Joe doggedly orders as he turns to leave with the rest of the kids.

Chapter Four

            In the Doctor’s office, the teenager’s dizziness becomes too much for him to even sit up. He lies down on the cold, steel medical table while the Doctor, now wearing a mask, dumps antiseptic on his arm. With the exception of the Doctor’s office, the conditions of the Mines are so dirty that the slightest cut can lead to infection. Showers are uncommon in exchange for drinkable water and what is needed for use in the Mud Hall.

            She takes a clean cloth and scrubs on the teen’s arm. The jostling makes him groan in his dizziness. Satisfied that his arm is clean enough, the Doctor opens a cabinet and takes out a small vial of clear liquid.

            “How far up did you get before the coughing started?” It’s a question she’s grown accustomed to asking.

            “I got to the cloud,” is all the teen can mutter between coughs. It’s the same answer every kid who has climbed the Ladder and come back with the Sick has given.

            The Doctor opens a drawer and pulls out a syringe. She punctures the vial and pushes the needle into the liquid. Pulling the plunger back draws the liquid into the syringe. She pulls the needle out of the vial and squirts out just a little to make sure it is free of air bubbles.

            “This is going to cure you. You’ll just sleep for a little while,” she assures him. The words sound rehearsed because they are. She’s spoken them so many times before.

She injects his arm and the liquid empties out into him. His wince is nearly inaudible. It’s a testament to how uncomfortable the coughing and vertigo are compared to a needle in the arm. One final, small cough escapes before he falls sound asleep.

            The Doctor takes off the mask. If she’s done this once, she’s done it too many times. The injection has no medical name. Everyone in the Mines just calls it Remedy. Years ago kids would climb the Ladder and come back down sick. The entire Mine was almost infected from it.                  The Remedy has always been available. Even from the first days of the Mines. Unfortunately all attempts at a vaccine have been unsuccessful. As hard as it is to believe, the Guard is there to protect everyone from getting sick. Though his methods at protection are questionable.

            The Doctor leans on the medical table. “We can’t keep doing this.”

            “Doing what?” A gravelly voice responds to her from the entrance of her office.

            “What? Oh, Scraggle. Nothing. It’s…” She trails off not wanting to sound like a deserter.

            “Got another one, hmm?” Scraggle is the oldest person in the Mines. None of the kids are really sure when he showed up but it is certain that he’s not in his right mind. Often roaming the Mines, talking to himself or grabbing one of the kids and just staring at them. He’s mostly harmless. That is, he’s yet to hurt anyone. The Boss tolerates him because there’s nothing else that can be done. Scraggle stopped putting work or effort into the Mines a long time ago.

            “Is there something I can help you with, Scraggle?” the Doctor asks. Her voice is calm but tired.

            “Yes, Doctor. There is.”

She shakes her head, knowing what’s coming next.

“You can help me find the Dreamer. When the boy wakes up, ask him about his dreams. Then report right to me.”

            “Please stop. There is no Dreamer. There is no—”

            “Prophecy? I am afraid on that we disagree, my good Doctor. You see—”

            “Yes, I’ve heard it. And I have asked you before, to please stop putting ideas in everyone’s heads.”

            Scraggle wasn’t always crazy. There was a time when he helped make repairs to the Mines. From equipment to structural issues in certain areas, everyone knew that Scraggle was the man to see. That was years ago. One day, something in him changed. He was no longer interested in fixing things. He had only one thing on his mind. Some prophecy that he ran around the Mines yelling and telling to anyone who would listen. One day The Dreamer would come of age and lead everyone up the Ladder and to the Surface. To freedom from the Mines. A few of the kids took it to heart and attempted to lead others up the Ladder. They all came back down sick. It didn’t take long for people to stop listening to Scraggle. Eventually, he started keeping to himself though he still mumbles about the prophecy and the Dreamer. He’ll still tell the story to anyone willing to listen. Over the years the number of people who would listen has grown less and less. No one climbs the Ladder with the intention to lead others. Now when any of the kids try to climb it, it is simply to get out.

            “Though, we could use a little hope down here.” The Doctor sighs.

            “How many have tried to climb it this month?” Scraggle asks.

            “They’re getting bolder. Four have tried just today. One of them died from it. I’ve never seen anything like that.” She points at the teen on the table. “The others just came down sick like him. Like so many before.” The Doctor rubs her eyes. “And I’m running low on Remedy.”

            “The dark days are here. Truly these are the days of the prophecy. The time of the Dreamer.”

            “Scraggle, there is no prophecy. There is only the dirt, the Mines, these poor kids and that damn ladder.”

            Scraggle peeks outside her office and looks at the Ladder. “The Ladder. The true guardian of The Mines. That which watches over us.”

            “Of course they’d try to climb it. It stands there just begging them to try. And for what? What’s the point of a ladder that no one can use? It’s taunting and it’s cruel.” The Doctor sits down on her stool, her arms folded across her chest.

            “There is one who can and will climb it,” Scraggle says, his voice ready to shout to the ceiling.

            The Doctor just stares at him. His words are exhausting to her. It’s not been a good day and his words do nothing to help.

            “The Dreamer. Only the Dreamer has the strength to ascend the Ladder and thus give us the strength to follow. In your blood, you know the truth.”

            “Please leave.”

Scraggle relents to her request. He does make sure that others hear the tale, though.

            “The time of the Dreamer is upon us.” His voice trails off as he walks further into the Junction.

            The Doctor laughs under her breath. “Scraggle, you are mad…But I do hope you’re right.”