Ashes of Twilight (12 page)

“He should have given us a lamp.” I touch his arm and he grabs on to my hand and squeezes it so tight that I try to jerk away from the pain.

“Sorry,” he chokes out.

“Are you afraid of the dark?”

“I’m afraid of being enclosed,” he admits with a shaky voice.

I have to laugh. “Like living in a dome?” I can see the planes of his face now, the darkness that is his eyes and hair and the lightness of his cheeks and nose. He takes a deep breath.

“More like being underground, I think.” His voice is steadier now and his grip on my hand solid.

“Good thing you weren’t born a shiner.”

“Aren’t you afraid of anything?”

I don’t even have to think about it. “I am. Falling.” Falling into the pit and not knowing what’s below me, not knowing if I’ll land. And knowing that I’ll have to land somewhere eventually. What if the fall doesn’t kill me? What if I’m there, dying, alone in the dark like the canary, trapped and abandoned in its cage?
Falling …

I tug on his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Where? I can’t see anything.”

“I can.”

“How?”

I turn to look at him. I know what my eyes look like in the dark, as I’ve seen others just like them my entire life. They glow like a cat’s and are the same color as polished brass. Now, in the total blackness, they just shine, like beacons.

“That’s why they call you shiners.” Pace states the obvious but I don’t mind. Talking will help to take his mind off his fear. I only hope he can keep it at bay for a good long while because it’s going to get a lot worse, if what I see before us is any indication.

“And we call you bluecoats.”

“Not me. Not anymore.”

“Let’s go.” I tug on his hand and he follows me, slowly.

“Do you know where to go?”

”Do you hear the water?”

“Yes.”

“It runs downward and that’s the direction we need to go in, to go below.”

“Below?” He stops and jerks on my hand.

“It’s the only place you can hide.”

“I know but…”

“But what? You didn’t think it would be dark? Or closed in? Dirty? Smelly?” I drop his hand and step far enough away that he can’t reach out and touch me. “I don’t have to help you, you know. I can just walk away and leave you here.”

“If not for you and your friend I wouldn’t be in this mess.” I hear the panic in his voice, but I also hear that he’s thinking clearly. He didn’t ask to be a part of this. For that matter, neither did I. One reckless decision by Alex has put both our lives at risk.

But he got out …

I purposely don’t look at him so he can’t see my eyes. I feel him standing close by, so very still, as if he’s afraid that if he moves, the entire dome will come crashing down on top of us. Maybe if he knows what to expect he can prepare for it. I can’t help him if he panics on me. I can well understand his fear of being closed in. I have my own fear that sometimes wakes me shivering in my bed. He’s going to have to face his fear if he wants to survive. “We’re going to have to crawl through a tunnel,” I say. “We have to get down to the sewer level. After that it’s just a matter of finding a hatch to go below.”

“Is it like this below?”

“No. It’s bigger. Like the dome almost.”

“Except it’s dark.”

“We have light.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. What if he does stay here? Will it make any difference to me? Will it mean my life or my death? “You can come with me, or you can face the fires. Which is it?”

“I’m ready.” I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye. He’s stepped closer, lured by the sound of my voice. He may be frightened but he’s thinking things through. He’s in control of himself.

I take his hand once more and lead him forward. “First up is a tunnel. You’ll have to crawl. We’re following the water so we’re going to get wet.” I place his hand on the wall above the tunnel. “I’m going in,” I say. “Just feel your way down to the opening.”

I drop down to my hands and knees and crawl forward. The water trickles between my hands but it’s hard to keep my knees out of it. To my eyes, the water gleams like a strip of silver. To Pace it’s nothing more than a sensation. I’m no more than five feet in when the walls of the tunnel fill my ears with their dense quiet. The trickle of the water is nothing compared to the pounding of my heart in my chest and the roar of the blood in my veins. I feel Pace behind me as he scrambles to keep up with me, afraid that I will abandon him here in a place worse than the one we left. It’s too narrow to turn around.

What if we can’t get through? There’s no guarantee that this tunnel is big enough for our bodies. All it is required to do is carry water that is nothing more than condensation off the pipes. We must move on. To go back and go above is certain death for both of us.

Alex got out …
What did he see?
The sky is blue …
But what does it look like? The pictures I saw years ago in books have nothing more than emptiness where the sky is supposed to be. What else did he see?

The tunnel gets smaller as we move downward. My shoulders drag against the sides and my neck cramps from holding my head down. Pace isn’t following as closely as he was when we started. I hear him straining behind me.

“I can’t move,” he says after a long moment.

“Hang on.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says.

I grin and shake my head. If it’s tight for me it has to be worse for Pace. Not only is he much taller than me, but he’s also broader. I don’t want to because of the water but I have no choice. I drop down to my belly and wiggle onward. My clothes are quickly soaked and I shiver with cold but I’m able to make it through without too much trouble. The tunnel widens out and the smell of the sewer is strong, so strong that I gag.

“We’re almost through.” I turn around and face Pace so he can see my eyes. “You’re going to have to crawl.” He looks at me, his face ghastly white against the blackness of the dirt that surrounds him.

“I won’t fit.” His voice is hollow and distant, lost in the heavy weight of the tunnel.

“You’ve got to.” I try to sound encouraging and to keep the frustration from my voice. If not for him I’d be below by now. I’d be safe. “There’s no place else to go.”

There’s no going back …
Everything is changed now. If I could just go back to the way life was a few days ago. To the night that Alex flew. What could I change? What could I have done to make Lucy choose Alex and me choose James and for all of us to live out our lives as they were intended?

Alex got out …
I hear Pace struggling through the tunnel. Good. He’s trying. I’m able to stand, not straight, but straight enough, and I creep down to where it opens into the sewers. It’s raw with the smell and I gag once more. The wide pipes that are supposed to carry it to the septic ponds are broken and some of it has spilled out onto the ground. It’s not surprising, as they are over two hundred years old. Why haven’t they been repaired? The pipes are wide and tall and the tunnels carrying them are big enough for us to stand and move easily. The thought of walking through the waste …

“Wren?” Pace’s voice trembles. “I’m stuck.”

I crawl back into the small tunnel. He’s wedged in tight. “Can you move anything?”

He rolls his shoulders, gasps, and manages to get his left arm out from under his chest. He stretches his hand out and tries to get a handhold in the dirt. “Wren?”

He’s terrified. I can see it on his face. What am I doing here? If not for Pace I’d be gone. I should go on, leave him. Just like I left the canary stuck in his cage.

“I’m here.” I crawl as close as I can get and grab his hand. He squeezes mine so tight that it goes numb. His breath comes in gasps. He’s so very afraid. “I’m going to get you out.” I put my other hand over his and run my thumb under his palm to break his hold. “You’ve got to let go of my hand so I can dig.”

“It will all come down.” He twists his head around in an effort to see. “We’ll be buried alive.”

I gently touch his cheek. It’s so cold. “Trust me.” He leans into my hand. “This is what I do.”

He stares at me, trying desperately to see me in the darkness. The whites of his eyes surround the deep blue that is nothing more than black holes in the darkness. “I don’t want to die,” he whispers.

“I don’t want to either. I’m going to do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Pace nods against my hand and takes a deep breath. I place my hands on the dirt around his shoulders. It’s packed so tight. I dig in with my nails and scratch against it. A small chunk comes out and I pitch it behind me. “Can you slide any? Even an inch will help.”

He shifts a bit. “Not really.”

“Hold your breath and try again.”

He does but doesn’t move much. I try to dig again but the dirt is so hard and I don’t have any tools. There’s not much I can do. Pace realizes it. I can tell by the way he’s breathing. If he panics and tries to wrench free I’m afraid he’ll hurt himself, or worse. What can I do? I can’t get help, it will take too long, and if I leave him he’ll be terrified. Besides, there’s no one that will help. I can’t ask my grandfather. He’d turn Pace in if he thought it would save me.

I could go now and leave him. Take care of myself. Disappear into the mines and never go to the surface again. But he’d die here, trapped and alone, like the canary. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life thinking about his body, decomposing here as he’s eaten by the rats until there’s nothing left but bones.

Pace is the only one who knows where Alex got out.

“I’m going to pull you out.”

“You can’t.”

“I will.”

I grab his forearm with both hands. He clasps his hand around my wrist. I back up as far as I can, spread my legs and brace them against the wall. I lean back and pull with all my strength.

Pace yelps in pain.

“Are you hurt?”

He grits his teeth. “Keep going.”

I slide back a few inches, brace my legs and pull again. He moves forward. He twists a bit and pulls his right arm out.

“Again,” he gasps.

I slide back and do it again. I pull on his arm until I’m laying flat on my back. He grabs my thigh and pulls until he’s lying on my legs.

“I’m free.” His voice sounds weak, as if he’s fighting back tears. I backpedal out of the tunnel and he slowly follows, using only his right arm to pull himself forward. I wait at the tunnel entrance and help him to his feet when he reaches it. He leans wearily against the dirt wall and wipes his face across his shoulder. “I take it this is the sewers?”

“Yes.”

“The smell gave it away.”

I have to laugh. This has to have been one of the scariest experiences of his life and he’s able to make a joke. I see the bright flash of his teeth in the darkness as he quickly smiles.

“I’m going to need some help with my shoulder,” he says when my laughter fades away. “It came out of its joint.”

I take a good look at him. His left arm is hanging at a funny angle. “I did that?” I ask.

“You’re stronger than you look.”

Stronger than I ever thought. I pulled his arm out of joint. How could he stand the pain? How could I do that? Words weren’t enough. “I’m so sorry.”

“Just put it back,” he says. “This isn’t the first time it’s happened.”

“What do I do?”

“Pull it straight out and then shove it in and up until you hear it pop.”

I gingerly pick up his arm. I can feel the muscles clenched beneath the fabric of his jacket. He winces. “I’m not sure if I can.”

“You have to.”

“But it will hurt.”

“It hurts now.” He puts his right hand on top of mine. “Just do it, quickly. Once it’s done I’ll be fine.”

I nod, take a deep breath, and shove with all my might. I hear a pop and he grabs my shoulder as he grunts in pain. His lowers his head and the strain of him gritting his teeth shows on his jaw. I hang on to him, just in case he passes out, but thankfully he doesn’t. He raises his head and nods.

“Better now,” he says weakly. “I hope there are no more tunnels like that.”

“We should be okay from here,” I say. “Ready?” I take his hand once more and lead him along the pipes. I can only hope that we find a way out before they decide to search underground. I have no way of knowing how long we’ve been running or what we’re liable to run into. All I can do is pray.

10

“Do you ever wonder
where this all goes to?” I ask when we come to a joint in the pipes. I go left, in the direction of the mines. One benefit of being a shiner is that we are born with some sort of internal compass that helps us survive life underground. The way is narrow because of the pipes so Pace follows me, trusting in my eyes to get us to safety. He keeps a tight hold on the back of my jacket so we won’t be separated.

“I know where it goes,” he says. “I’ve been there. It’s not a place you want to visit, believe me.” Even though we speak quietly our voices seem to fill the space and echo off the pipes.

“Why were you there?”

“It’s the first shift you work as a cadet. Guarding the septic. The smell is horrible. I puked the first time I was down there.”

“Why do they have guards there?”

“They use prisoners to handle the waste. They have to walk in it and shovel it out. My squad leader says it makes them grateful for the fires when it comes time for execution.”

I see Alex’s face once more and a shiver runs down my spine. “I don’t think anyone would be grateful for that.”

“They drug them before execution. So they won’t fight so much.”

“Alex wasn’t drugged.”

“No. He wasn’t.”

“Do you know where he went out?”

“No. I have an idea…”

I start to say something but he interrupts me. “Don’t even think about it. They’ll roast you just like they did your friend.”

“Don’t say that.” A shiver runs down my spine at the memory of Alex’s charred body.

“Say what? Roast? It’s what they did to him. I’ll never forget it.”

Neither will I.
I don’t want to remember Alex like that. I want to remember him as he was the night before he died, when he flew, with his face full of life and wonder. “Did he say anything else?”