Ashes of Twilight (34 page)

We are dismissed and go outside the cavern as the shrill whistle of our alarm sounds. James and Alcide are a few paces away and are in a heated discussion. Peggy has just set foot on the bridge while Cat jumps off and comes bounding to us with a curious meow. Pip pokes his head from Pace’s pocket, looks around, and then dips back inside. I’m not sure if we should try to talk to James or just go on and wait for the council to speak to the village.

I am worried about the ponies. If there is an explosion, I can’t stand the thought of them being at the mercy of fire shooting throughout the tunnels. I should be worried about my people, about the shiners who even now are fighting to protect us from the bluecoats. Cat twines between my ankles as I stand there, watching my fellow shiners gather by the bridge, and listening to the sounds of their questions as they wait to find the reason for the alarm.

Those who were awake don’t know any more than those who were asleep. Mothers hold their babies close and the men, most of whom were awakened by the alarm, ask one another the news. Peter is already up the ramp and back to the fight. The council comes forth from the cavern and steps onto the bridge just as Peggy steps off. She continues on, past the crowd and to her house. She already knows the news. She already knows we have to fight to save ourselves.

Pace and I, along with Alcide and James, stay close to the chamber. To cross now would interrupt the announcement of the bluecoat invasion. The gathering grows quiet as the council members stand on the bridge.

“We have been invaded,” Jasper says. “The lift has fallen to the bluecoats and—”

Before he can say another word the tunnels rumble and the earth beneath our feet violently shakes. The four of us on the cavern side of the bridge—me, Pace, Alcide, and James—are thrown to the ground. Cat yowls and dashes into the council cavern.

“What is it?” Pace asks as the shaking continues. The lamps above our heads swing to and fro and some fall, crashing to the earth with great popping sounds. The water sloshes from its banks and those on the opposite shore try to retreat as they are pitched to the ground.

“Methane,” I gasp. “There’s been an explosion.”

The bridge swings back and forth violently. Those on the bridge dash for either side; Adam, Mary, and Hans come our way, the rest go to the other side. A huge groan echoes in our chamber and suddenly water spouts through the wall, spraying in every direction. There are screams and cries of terror as the cave wall above the bridge splits in half and a great wave of water tumbles through.

“We’re trapped,” Pace says.

“No.” I pull him to his feet and into the council cavern. There is always an escape route. Always. But in this case, I am not so sure, as we never thought we would have to outrun the rising waters.

31

The escape tunnel
is still there. For one panicked moment I was afraid it might have caved in with the explosion, but it is still there, leading out, up, and away.

“Peggy!” Adam stands in the entrance to the council cavern and yells across the cave. The water is rising fast. Across the way we can see people, cats, and goats all running up the ramp. The birds circle around the ceiling, chirping their displeasure. The water keeps pounding and it is only a matter of time before the waterwheel gives way and the cavern is plunged into darkness. Against the far wall pieces of our lives are smashed in the frenzy of the rising tide of water. Tables and chairs, bed frames, blankets, and curtains twirl about in whirlpools before being sucked under, all traveling beneath the cave wall. Where will they end up? Will they tumble past our cave and will that cavern flood too? What about the shiners who are out fighting and patrolling and the ponies and the cats and chickens who all live in our world? Will everything and everyone be swept away?

I have no idea how many were washed away and smashed into the far wall with the first blast of water. Jasper and the rest? Those who stood on the bank when the great wall cracked and the water tumbled forth? Entire families? Mothers and fathers and tiny children?

Peggy is trapped. The water quickly rises and covers the steps that lead up to her home. It could be me up there. It could be me, standing in my doorway, screaming and crying for my husband who is being held back from diving into the water by his brother-in-law James and Alcide.

“Oh God, Peggy,” I cry out. She is running out of time as are we, as we are only a bit higher on our side of the water than she is.

Pace grabs me from behind and pulls me back into the council cavern. Cat is already gone after scrambling into the escape tunnel. Mary leverages herself up to follow.

“We must be away,” she says.

“Peggy!” I sob, echoing Adam as he screams her name over and over again. Hans grabs hold of him too as he is almost too much for Alcide and James.

“You can’t help her,” Pace says into my ear. “I know you love her. You can only save yourself.” We are plunged into darkness and I know the waterwheel is gone, along with the rest of the village. Birds fly at us, quickly dodging our heads before shooting into the escape tunnel. They are gone before we even know they have passed.

“Get in the tunnel,” Hans yells at us. The water is coming at us, splashing around our boots in its rush to get in. Pace picks me up by the waist and stuffs me into the tunnel and is on my heels before I crawl forward.

“Move it!” Hans yells. We scramble forward, moving on until we can stand and then running along the slope that leads up. Alcide is behind Pace. He drags at Adam while James pushes him from behind. Adam is dazed and I know they must have struck him to get him inside and away from the water.

“It’s coming behind us,” Hans yells. I can hear it splashing. If it catches Hans, who is bringing up the rear, it will wash him into us and we will all fall and be drowned. I know Pace cannot see. He holds on to my jacket and pushes me forward.

“Come on!” Mary yells. The way is steep and the climb is arduous. I have to lean forward to climb. “Don’t drag her down,” Mary yells at Pace. “Just climb, there’s only one way to go and that’s up.”

Pace lets go of my jacket and we scramble upward. It will level out soon, I know, but I don’t waste the breath to tell him. Alcide is on his heels and Adam is climbing on his own, his natural sense of survival overcoming his grief at losing Peggy.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry!” Hans yells. The water splashes and sloshes behind us. We climb and we climb and we climb until I know my heart will explode if I don’t stop soon. Maybe drowning will be easier. It has to be easier than this.

I fall forward and Pace falls on top of me. We’ve reached level ground. Mary drags us up as Alcide is almost on top of us. We scramble out of the way and bend over with our hands on our knees to catch our breath as the rest come up. A lamp hangs on a support in this tunnel and Pace, who has recovered quicker than any of us as his lungs are stronger, takes it down and holds it over the way we’ve just come.

“It looks like it’s subsiding,” he says. Mary and Hans stand beside him and peer down at the water.

“Poor bastards,” Mary says. “All of us. God bless us all.”

I wonder about their families. Hans’s wife and two sons and Mary’s married daughter, who teaches the schoolchildren. Mary is a widow so she has no husband to worry over. No one to share in her suffering if her daughter and all those children are lost.

Please, I pray, but who and what to pray for escapes me. I’ve lost my best friend, Adam lost his wife, and James lost his sister. Entire families are gone. I look at Adam, who stands with his hands at his sides, curling them into fists. I don’t know I have tears on my face until I see his and I run to him and throw my arms around him. He sinks to the ground in his grief and I go with him, both of us on our knees as we cry together.

“They will pay,” James says. “All of them. For Peggy and for the rest.” His voice breaks and he whirls around and pounds his fist into the wall. Hans grabs him as he draws back to strike again.

“We’ve got a long way to go, son,” he says. “We need you whole, not with a broken hand.”

James nods his head and comes to where Adam and I kneel in each other’s arms. I back away and Adam falls against James. They are best friends and they were brothers through Peggy. I know they will always stay that way. But my connection to them is now gone with my dearest friend.

Pace wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. I wipe my cheek against his shirt and Pip squeaks.

“I can’t believe he’s still in your pocket.” My voice, heavy with emotion, is as squeaky as Pip’s.

“He’s not the only one who has stuck around,” Pace replies. I look down and see Cat twining through his legs.

“We should follow the cat,” Mary says. “He’ll know the way out.”

“We’ve got to move on,” Hans says. “See if any of the others have survived.”

We set out, going the only way we can. We’re above the village and going away from the lift. Pace carries the lamp and we walk behind Mary and Hans with Alcide, Adam, and James behind us. Cat scampers ahead, meowing into the darkness. I don’t know if he’s calling out for his friends or mourning the ones he lost. He seems to know where he’s going, and as there is no other way for us to go we follow until we come to a cross tunnel. There are only two directions for us to go in, as back is not an option.

We all stop. Cat sniffs the air and takes off to the right. Hans and Mary look at each other for a moment. “I trust his instincts more than mine,” Mary says, so we continue on after Cat.

“Can’t we use one of the escape hatches?” Pace asks.

“Most all of them are on the other side of the river,” I say. “We’ll have to find a way to cross over. We’re on the outside boundary of the mines.”

“This is where we were going to make new tunnels,” James says. “Fat chance of that now as the charges are underwater.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” I say. “We won’t know anything until the water subsides.”

“The explosion must have damaged the dome reservoir,” Pace says.

“The lift was close to it,” James says. “If they shot flames down one of those old tunnels that were flooded and there was a gas pocket it would have blown the walls for certain.”

“I wonder where the birds went,” Alcide says. “They flew by us, didn’t they? Or did I imagine it?”

“They did,” I say.

“Quiet!” Hans holds up his hand. “There’s someone ahead.”

We all hear the noise, but it echoes strangely, in a way I’ve never heard before. It is louder and harsher, not muffled by the many tunnels. We move on, cautiously as if we’re afraid we will find something worse than what we’ve experienced before us. Cat keeps going but we turn off, drawn by the noise.

It takes me a while to realize that we’re in what I called our cave. The cave with the rushing river where Pace and I had hid. This tunnel never led there before, but that is because the walls were still in place. Pace shines the lamp out; the cave is too big to show everything, but from what we can see, it looks as if the dome has fallen into it. Indeed it has. Dim light filters down from above through the tangle of debris that looms before us.

“Now we know where the birds went,” Alcide says.

We all stand there, mouths agape as we stare at the destruction. “The explosion must have weakened it,” Hans comments.

“Can we climb out?” James asks.

“There’s no way to get to it,” Hans says. Indeed there isn’t. We can’t reach it and even if we could, one misstep would send us tumbling into the river.

“Hallo!”

We look over to the top of the long and sloping ledge. How many trips did I make down that ledge, going to Pace? Now it’s a death trap. Everything I had in this world is gone, lost to the raging river. I know in my heart that nothing that I lost really matters. Joy fills me at the sight of a group of people gathered as they wave at us.

“Praise God, it’s Freddy,” Hans says. “Stay put!” he yells back and we backtrack to the tunnel that will lead us that way.

Twenty people are there, most of them children from the school. “We were coming to the fight from tunnel fifteen when we heard the explosion,” Freddy explains to his father as Hans pulls him into his arms. “We found these wandering about and brought them with us,” he says of the children. Freddy is only twelve and tries to show a brave front for his father. He crumples for a moment as Hans hugs him but quickly regains his composure.

Mary kneels among the children. “Where’s Sally?” she asks.

“She was behind us when the water came,” a little boy says. “She was carrying Sarah because she hurt her ankle.”

“We never saw her,” Freddy says. Mary nods her head in understanding that her daughter is likely gone. She walks off a few paces and we give her the time she needs.

“You did good, son,” Hans says.

“We can’t go back the way we came,” Freddy says. “It’s flooded. What about Ma and the village?”

“It’s gone,” Hans says quietly so the other children can’t hear. “Some got out but I don’t know who. We got out through the council chamber. The other way was flooded.” Freddy bites his lip to hold back his grief. The little ones look at us with fear showing on their faces. A few of them cry, snuffling silently.

James, Alcide, and Adam move off in different directions to check out the tunnels. Adam goes back to the village. I know he’s hoping for a miracle with Peggy. It would have to be a miracle for her to have survived, but I don’t blame him for trying, for not giving up hope. We all know our only way out is into the dome, but we don’t know what waits for us there. It’s certain death in my mind, especially after the disaster that’s just happened.

I lean against Pace for the moment, so grateful that we are still together when so many people are lost. Cat comes back to us once more and paws at my knees. I have no answers for him. I don’t know what will happen to us. What if we’re trapped without access to food or supplies, trapped in between the world that was and the world that hates us? How long will it take us to die?

“Look what we found,” Alcide says as he comes back. I look up to see Ghost and the five other ponies that work my shift following along behind him. Their coats are wet; they must have swum but they made it out.