Mind Games (11 page)

Lightning streaked and cackled as it broke through layers of mountainous clouds above. The wind grew in strength and pushed against the vehicle making it difficult to steer straight. The end of the road blurred off and down, almost in a streak. He couldn’t tell where the edge of the road was anymore.

Through the veil of wind and rain, Cameron lost sight of any vehicles in front of him. He was afraid to slow down since a vehicle traveling at a greater speed behind could easily clip him off the road.

His fears were suddenly amplified as he heard a faint cracking sound just ahead. A large tree moaned from the forceful storm and released a heavy branch onto the road, then the trunk bowed, stressed, and snapped as the large tree plummeted, covering the road ahead.

Cameron slammed on the breaks and began to hydroplane, and just as he did, a pickup behind him cornered his left end and sent him spinning into the ditch. The SUV bounced and rolled twice, triggering the violent air bag to blast Cameron against the seat.

Tilting and swaying, the SUV crumpled and crunched as it rolled. Once, twice, around and around, four times the vehicle rolled, twisting Cameron in a winding knot.

The wind howled and mocked.

Finally, the vehicle lurched to a stop.

Cameron awoke in shoc
k
, unaware how much time passed since the steering wheel knocked him unconscious.

It was dark now, and the heavy rain pelted the underbelly of the vehicle as Cameron hung upside down, face against the cracked windshield, harnessed in by his seatbelt. From his upside-down view, he could only see a foggy haze of rain and grass. A blur of green and dark grey speckled with white dots. Cameron experienced the small ice chunks as if they were falling up and sticking to a green Velcro.

He carefully crawled out of the tangled seatbelt and regained an upright orientation. His head was still spinning, and he sat inside the vehicle amongst the chaos of the ragging storm. Cameron could feel the rain against his leg through the shattered windows and noticed a series of small cuts on his limbs. His extremities were chilled in pain, and as he flexed his fingers, all ten digits responded with movement.

Cameron found the rearview mirror broken on the floor and tilted it up to his face. Aside from a few bruises and scrapes, his face had been protected by the airbag. Still, the multiple roles of the vehicle jostled him like a rag doll, and he could feel the effects of whiplash on his neck.

Cameron felt his legs and was relieved to find no broken bones. His right leg, however, had an unsightly gash in it near his upper thigh. The blood was flowing steadily, and he needed to act fast.

Every police SUV included a first-aid kit, some food, water, and a blanket. But even these necessities were now scattered all over the back ceiling of the upside-down wreck.

He found the first-aid kit and attended to his wounds. He disinfected the gash and took off his coat to make a temporary tourniquet.

Along with pain in his back, Cameron noticed a tingly numbness in his right ankle as well, which he assumed was badly sprained. He was thankful to be alive and without critical injury. Grabbing the armrest of the driver’s seat, he rocked himself forward and regained his balance.

He crawled into the back seat and lay across the flat ceiling of the vehicle’s interior. Pulling a fleece blanket over his shivering body, he gazed out the blown-out window at the non-stop rain.

In the midst of the traumatic circumstance, he’d never felt so powerless against the forces of nature. But he wasn’t going to focus on himself. Cameron figured the storm had caused his other team members to veer off course as well.

Cameron reached for his cell phone…no service. He tried again. Nothing. The phone showed less than fifty percent battery, so he decided to conserve the energy and try again after the storm passed.

Unfortunately, the storm caterwauled for another hour. The hair on his arm tingled from the electromagnetic activity surrounding the vehicle. Cameron wondered how far away from the road he’d landed. As the rain let up, he discovered there was no angle from inside the vehicle from which he could see the highway asphalt, only the tops of large semis as they zoomed by.

The SUV rolled down far enough to where he could not be seen by the traffic above.

The sun eventually broke through a section of clouds, stretching a hopeful beam to Cameron’s worn face. He carefully crawled out of the passenger window, and pressed his hand into fresh, soupy mud. He slowly slid the rest of his aching body into the pool of runny mud, and the cooling sensation was somehow refreshing.

He craned his neck towards the road, and saw just how far the SUV rolled, leaving a trail of bent grass weaving down the ditch.

Cameron wanted to get up and walk toward the steep conduit, up towards the road to wave for help, but he knew this would only prolong the healing of his right leg. He tried for cell service again, but it failed. Covered in mud, Cameron inched back into the SUV and tried to rest when his moment of calm was shortly interrupted.

In the misty distance, Cameron saw two men in yellow rain jackets emerge from the trees. The first man carried an oil lantern, and the second man toted a wheelbarrow.

They were headed straight towards the wreck.

Cameron panicked, wondering if the men were there to hurt him or help him. He thought about running, but his legs didn’t respond.

He watched as the yellow raincoats grew, wheeling towards him.

The men did not talk.

They did not look around. Only forward.

And they were focused on Cameron.

When they neared the accident site, Cameron noticed their boots were caked with fresh mud. Their feet splashed and squashed, then stopped, sinking into the watery brown fluids of the earth. The first man held the lantern over Cameron’s face. His voice was deep and clear, dripping with danger.

“Are you in need of work, sir?”

Cameron arched his neck to look up at the first man. The trauma of the wreck took the words from his mouth, rendering him temporarily mute. He moved his limp tongue, but nothing came out.

“Can you hear us?” The second voice was even deeper than the first.

Cameron looked from one to the other and bit his lip.

“Work, sir,” the first said. “Are you able?”

Were they serious? He was lucky to be alive and they were asking about work? Cameron moistened his tongue and tried to speak again. This time, only a whisper escaped his lips. “The car rolled.”

“We can see that,” the second yellow blob said. “Tonight, you rest. Tomorrow you work.”

Cameron replied with more force now. “No. I hurt my leg. Help me.”

“If we help you…”

“…you will help us.” They finished each other’s sentences now.

Then, they spoke together
,
“IF WE HELP YOU, YOU’LL WORK FOR US.”

“No, I have a job.” Cameron frantically searched for a story. “I’m a construction worker – I was just driving out to a site where we’re completing some duplexes…before I…you know...”

“Perfect. Then you’re used to hard work.” The first man nodded to the second. They pulled Cameron from the wreck and loaded him into the wheelbarrow. “We can always use more help – especially with the expansion. Now, let’s get you inside.”

The men wheeled Cameron through several hundred feet of bumpy grass and weeds, and as the motion of the wheel barrow gradually made Cameron more aware of his surroundings, he noticed a series of small lights in the distance through the crowded company of trees and foliage. It was difficult to see the lights since a thick fog settled over the ground, inhaling and exhaling waves of gentle mist. The seething motion of the fog pulled Cameron into the dim gray ahead.

The lights in the distance were different than the lantern that dimly lit the faces of the two men. The lights beyond the trees had a faintness that resembled a house-like structure. They appeared to flicker between the lofty pines as he moved parallel to them. Cameron had seen many different types of electric wind farms that blinked to announce their presence, and if the lights were indeed blinking, he wondered who might have placed them there and for what purpose. Since the two men that transported him kept quiet as they weaved through the pines, Cameron was left to decide for himself.

A flock of crows flew overhead, cawing in eerie desperation. Their black feathers almost blended in with the night, but the moonlight-soaked fog etched out their silhouettes against the rim of the sky. Flying ahead, the crows perched atop a weathered oak tree, forming a percussive song that echoed throughout the surrounding pines. The cawing had an unpleasant edge that seemed to bend the sound waves into a wafting chill, slowing only to fill the ears of Cameron and the men that pushed him along.

As the wheelbarrow neared the rusty oak, the crows followed. They focused their beady eyes upon Cameron, leaning their heads forward and raising their wings, cawing down insults upon him in their mystical language. One of the crows loomed just over Cameron’s head, then swooped down to strike him, lunging forward, just missing Cameron’s battered face.

Snapping his neck back, Cameron hit his fourth vertebrae on the sharp edge of the wheelbarrow. The diver crow, now behind him, let out a mournful caw, calling the flock to follow him. In reverent obedience, the other crows leapt from the oak, and swooped down in a sequential attack, lifting their wings only inches from Cameron’s face, then bolting back into the churning fog. The obnoxious calls of the crows breeched the crest of the fog then vanished into the night sky.

The men had pushed Cameron a considerable distance from the accident site. His leg was in far too much pain for him to run, but he considered it. Looking up at the two yellow figures, he concluded that there was no way to escape these men. They might be armed.

The small lights were closer and stronger now. When the men pushed him down a shallow hill, the lights disappeared behind a mound of dirt. The men pushed him to a clearing under the looming canopies of the pines, stopping at an extremely large tree stump. As the first man held the lantern over the stump, the second man left Cameron in the wheelbarrow and flipped the top of the trunk open like a hatch.

Cameron took a closer look at the stump and realized it did not have real bark on it. Instead, the cylindrical metal hatch was painted to camouflage into the surrounding area.

The second man climbed into the hatch and descended a ladder.

BELOW

The first man walked the lanter
n
a few feet in front of the hatch and cleared away the ground brush with his boots, uncovering a rusty sheet of metal. He waited for a moment then knocked three times on the panel. The panel dropped, forming a gradual ramp into the dark underground. The first man wheeled Cameron down the ramp, and with every inch, Cameron’s heart rate increased. He was concerned that the two men could hear his heart beating, and the shear nature of the hidden hatch system almost guaranteed he would be powerless from this point on. The first man walked back up the ramp to retrieve the lantern; and once he’d joined Cameron below, the lantern illuminated the second man’s figure as he locked the stump hatch. He brushed off his hands and gestured forward into darkness.

Cameron almost wished the men would talk about the weather or something, but their silence in the underground cavity only demonstrated their powerful position.

The air was musty and moist. Turning his head, Cameron smelled the earthy tang that was a combination of bitter and sweet scents from pinesap after years of dripping beneath the soil.

The second man flipped a switch somewhere and several lights flickered on, revealing a long, winding tunnel that curved – concealing where its reach led. These lights were dimmer than the lantern, and their combined shadows made abstract shapes upon the tunnel ground.

As they wheeled Cameron through the tunnel, amidst the gaps in overlapping shadows, he caught glimpses of earthworms and centipedes glistening on the ground, writhing in the dirt. The earth from the walls was held back by a series of long wooden panels that overlapped forming a strengthened weave.

The solid structure of the walls supported overhead paneling, causing the space to feel like a huge, elongated coffin.

Various sizes of roots forced their way through the tunnel’s barrier and became part of its very architecture.

Many of the roots jutted out into miniature tendrils that curved and spread randomly, reaching for any type of water or nutrient source. The lantern men ducked periodically as certain branches obstructed their headroom. And over time, this ducking motion became sequenced into a pattern based on the layout of the pine trees above. One of the roots stretched down far enough so that one of the men had to push it aside as to not further scratch up Cameron’s face.

The alluring movement of the roots stopped for a moment, and the man pushing the wheelbarrow stopped as well, taking the lantern from the other man. Then he walked around to the front, kneeling to inspect Cameron’s face with the light, searching for a flaw in his facial structure or possibly a flaw in his character. The flame within the lantern flickered behind Cameron’s eyes giving him an instant headache.

Holding the lantern, the man studied Cameron as if he were a hog on its way to market. The other man took out a Polaroid camera and snapped a photo of his torn-up face.

The bright flash was yet another shock to his senses. This was not the hospitality Cameron had hoped for. After a broad gesture forward, the men continued ducking under the roots.

The sustained silence of the men took on an ominous tone as they wheeled him down a gradual decline in the tunnel. When relief came, it was not through the sights or sounds of their journey; rather Cameron now felt soft, fresher air move across his face. This air smelled different too. It was the scent of ash. Cameron imagined there must have been a recently used campsite just above them, but since the forest seemed abandoned, he also wondered if the aroma was being filtered from a recent forest fire.

Within a few minutes, the men reached a dead end where three metal doors opposed them. While Cameron adjusted his back in the wheelbarrow, trying to avoid further bruising to his spine, the second man reached for a ring of keys, jingling them as he reached for the door. The man inserted the key into the metal door and looked back to Cameron with a subtle wince.

The shadows faded into changing gradients across the man’s jawline as he twisted the key before leaning into the door and pushing it open. The tunnel ahead of them benefited from brighter lights and wormless ground.

Wheeling Cameron through the door, the other man extinguished the light from the lantern and placed it on a hook by the door. This path was paved with densely packed, dry dirt that resembled the consistency of fine sandpaper. This tunnel included other advancements as well.

Digging tools including shovels, spades, and pickaxes lined the left wall. Small grooves carved into the walls, holding them in place.

They wheeled Cameron through the tunnel as it curved right, revealing six men hastily working to carve away more dirt from the walls. When they heard the squeak of the wheelbarrow, the mud-faced men glared at Cameron.

As the wheelbarrow kept moving, Cameron realized his captors were not going to stop pushing anytime soon, and he needed something to occupy his attention. He looked up at the underground lights and began to count them. In a mesmerizing rhythm, the lights tracked above him. He counted 106 lights before coming to a stop.

Just ahead, a large freight elevator with geared doors reminded Cameron of two over-sized blades. The man with the keys did not reach for them, but instead slid the safety gate open, separating the doors before wheeling Cameron inside.

The two men closed the doors behind him and the man with the keys pressed a button on the elevator’s side panel. The lift shook to life and then jerked upward, rattling as it ascended.

Cameron was now alone.

He watched vertical lights flicker through small gaps in the freight elevator just before it came to a stop at a higher level.

He sat there for a moment. His leg was still throbbing and the temporary tourniquet he’d made for the gash in his right leg was coming loose.

In painful, disjointed movements, Cameron leaned forward enough to reach the interior panel of the lift. Stretching towards the green button put more strain on his back, but he kept reaching until he triggered the doors to open. And as they did, Cameron closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see whoever or whatever might be coming towards him.

If he was going to die, he was going to do it standing up.

He wiped a gob of mud from his cheek and pushed his neck forward. Then, he pressed his knuckles to the grated floor of the freight elevator, pushing the wheelbarrow forward through the doors.

When nothing happened, he opened his eyes, squinting them to adjust to the brightness of the room.