Tunnels (13 page)

TRAPPED

"E, did you feel that?" We were about halfway up the basement stairs. "I think we just had an aftershock from the earthquake this morning."

"Yup,
that
one I felt," he said. "And look at the light."

It was swaying on its long chain and I watched it, waiting for it to stop. But it didn't and neither did the rumbling beneath our feet.

"E, I don't think it's going to stop!" The wood stairs were shaking now, the vibrations growing stronger each second. I gripped the railing tighter to keep my footing.

"You're right!" He pointed to the shelves on the other side of the basement. Paint cans and old containers were rattling and beginning to fall to the cement floor.

This one was bad, and I couldn't help but think this was what all the geologists had been warning us about. The San Andreas Fault was finally ready to break California apart, and Nevada was about to become ocean front property. In fact, maybe the Super Volcano in Yosemite had finally erupted and the quake was from that. For the first time in my life I wondered if I was going to die. Even in the tunnels I hadn't been this scared.

"Let's get out of here!" I pulled on his arm because he seemed frozen in place.

Finally we reached the top of the staircase and I grabbed the doorknob. A loud crash came from the other side of the basement door before I had a chance to open it. But when I finally tried, that door wasn't going anywhere. Even pushing with my shoulder didn't work. My super Kat strength was an epic failure right now.

"Won't move!" Tiny pinpoints of light jetted back and forth in front of my eyes, like I was on the Star Tours ride at Disneyland. Must slow down my breathing so I don't pass out. Evan pushed me out of the way, grabbed the knob, and threw all his weight against the door. Still nothing.

"We're trapped!" he yelled. "Pops's old bookcase must have fallen in front of the door. It weighs a ton." He grunted, still pushing even though we both knew it was a lost cause.

"We've got to get under something," I pulled his arm. "Downstairs, under the old table over there." It was time to drop and cover. We'd done it a million times during school drills. But drills are more like a game when you sneak a text off to a friend while the teacher is squished under her own desk. Totally different when the ceiling could fully crush you at any second.

It felt as though I was going to take a header down the stairs, even though he was pulling at the back of my shirt to keep me close to him. My legs were wobbly and I hoped he wouldn't have to drag me the rest of the way.

Once we hit the last stair, the railing we'd just been holding gave way and crashed to the ground. We jumped out of the way then slid under the table like it was home base. He even broke his no-hand-holding rule and grabbed mine. We both curled into a ball and held on to each other. The ground was shaking and we were, too.

"What if the house collapses, E?" I yelled. I wished I'd told Mom and Dad where I'd be. What if we were buried down here?

"Just hang on. Remember what I told you? This house has been through a lot of earth—"

A loud groaning noise cut him off and we both peered up at the walls. Holding my breath, I prayed they'd stay put until we were out of there.

"Dude, we have to go
now
!" I yelled.

"But the only way out is through the hole!"

Not such a great idea if you ask me. I mean, where does the hole lead to anyhow? Was it just a small space where Emily hid the boxes or did it go further to a place where we'd be buried forever?

Chips of paint began raining down from the ceiling and I could see a crack forming above us, which immediately traveled toward the opposite wall. When would the floor above us fall through and bury us? Weren't the walls what kept the house standing? If the ceiling collapsed then everything would be history, including us.

Crawling out from under the table, we held our arms over our heads in case something fell.

"You first," he yelled when we got to where we'd made the hole.

I stepped through, then grabbed his hand to help him. The shaking was lessening, but the groaning from the house was growing louder. I felt off balance as I tried to focus on the walls. Were they moving or was I just dizzy?

"Come on," he said. "Let's get as far away from here as we can."

"But it's dark and—"

Just then, all the lights went out in the basement and he screamed. For a boy who still sleeps with the lights on, this was beyond scary.

"Calm down, E," I said, even though I wanted to scream too. But I knew we had to get focused to save ourselves. It was pitch black now and neither of us had a flashlight.

"Okay," his voice was trembling, "let's go. You lead, I'll follow."

Lead? "Do you know something I don't? I thought this was just a room."

"There's more. I'm just not sure what. I think if you feel along the wall with your left hand, you'll run into a hallway or—"

"Tunnel?" I asked. I'd imagined the tunnels could be sitting right under some of the oldest houses in Citrus Grove. Have we actually found another access point? Discovery happens by accident sometimes. Sometimes it doesn't matter how much planning and thinking you do as an archaeologist. Luck has a lot to do with it.

The lights flickered in the basement then—like a strobe light. But it was in that minute when I saw it and realized Evan was right. This wasn't just a room.

"Here, grab my hand. I'll get us out of here."

We needed to save ourselves. Then we needed to find George.

HELP FROM THE OTHER SIDE

I couldn't stop shivering. Was I in shock or was something else making my muscles twitch and my heart beat fast? As if the tunnels were answering me, a breeze floated past us. Huh? Last I checked, wind doesn't just happen ten feet below ground. And if that wasn't bad enough, somewhere in the pitch black, water was dripping. It felt like we were in some freaky post-apocalyptic movie.

After a while, when the shivering wouldn't go away, I came to a conclusion. "E, does it feel like we're being followed?"

"Oh, you aren't going there, are you?" he asked. "You need to stop watching those ghost hunting shows. We don't need to worry about anything but getting out of here, so keep it zipped."

And then, when I didn't say anything back because what was the point, he said, "Look, puh-lease don't start writing the next hit paranormal TV show starring Kat and Evan. There's been an earthquake, we're stuck in a tunnel, and that's all there is."

"Whatever, E. Way to back up the team, dude." I was angry and hurt. We'd just been through a major near-death experience, and he couldn't hear me out? Big jerk. I'd just keep my mouth shut from now on.

But a minute later, as if things were cool between us, he grabbed my arm. "Hey, I totally forgot I put this in my pocket this morning!"

My face lit up as he pointed a small pen light at me. "Better late than never," I grumbled.

"You know how Dad's always picking up this stuff at those tool conferences he goes to?" he asked. "He gave this to me at breakfast."

"Yeah, well at least he didn't give you another tube of lip balm with some wrench company advertised on the side."

"I know, right?"

Since we didn't need to hold on to the wall anymore, we walked faster and made up a lot of time using the light.

"Psst."

"What? I'm right here." Why was he
psst
ing me?

"What are you talking about?" He stopped abruptly and I ran smack into him. "I know you're right behind me."

Huh? "You didn't 'psst' me?" How strange. Was I hearing stuff now?

"Nope, think you're losing it, Cupcake."

Losing it? Not even. If I was going to go all crazy it would've been when I was chased in the tunnels, or at the library with Ms. Finstead the other night. But I kept my mouth shut as we began jogging along. Arguing about stupid stuff was a waste of time. We needed out of here. Now.

"Bet we're close to town," Evan said. "Now we've got to figure how to get out of here and find George."

"Exactly. Keep shining the light on the walls in case there's a door or an exit." In the distance I was sure I could hear sirens. Had people gotten hurt during the earthquake?

"Psst!" It was louder this time.

"Whoa! What the‒?"

"Now you hear it?" I asked.

But he didn't get a chance to answer because when he guided the light along the opposite wall, we both saw something.

"Who
is
that?"

I didn't answer him at first. How do you tell someone he'd just seen Colonel Sanders's twin in ghost form? A cold gust whipped past us as we stood there staring.

"Dude doesn't even look real!"

Guess I should tell him what I knew. "There's a reason for that. Evan, meet Kirke Woods, library ghost."

"What are you talking—"

"Psst!" Kirke interrupted Evan and then began pointing at the base of the wall beside him.

"He won't hurt us. Ms. Finstead said he's totally friendly." I grabbed his hand because I knew he wasn't going anywhere near Kirke without some help.

"Nuh-uh." He pulled his hand from mine. "You go check out your see-through friend. I'll hold the light and wait here."

I didn't argue. There was no time for it. I walked toward Kirke and threw him a peace sign for good measure. But when I got a few feet from him, his image broke apart and became wispy fog. I wasn't sure if I was sad or relieved.

"There, are you happy now?" I asked. "Come on and help me figure out what he was pointing to."

"Wouldn't call it happy exactly. By the way, since when did you become a ghost buster?"

I ignored him and kneeled down while he held the light. "There's something here," I said as I felt along the bottom of the wall. "It's square and not part of the wall. And, it's got a handle. Feels like metal." I grabbed it and pulled but of course it stayed snugly in place. Not sure what I expected since absolutely every metal door I'd tried to open in the last month had been impossible to budge.

"Here, let me try." He kneeled beside me and yanked with both hands for a while. "Crud, it's totally stuck."

"Let's try together," I suggested. "You pull the handle, I'll pull you."

But we tugged and tugged and still no luck. We were trapped and I'm pretty sure you could see my heart pounding through my shirt when I realized we might never get out.
Deep breaths,
I told myself. In, then out. In, then out. But it wasn't helping. The pinpoints of light started dancing all crazy behind my eyes again.

"What're we going to do?" Evan asked. "Keep walking?"

It made no sense. Why had Kirke bothered to show himself if it wasn't for a reason?

Suddenly there was a scraping sound and we moved back just in time to see the metal door fall open in front of us.

DESTRUCTION

"Where
are
we?" Evan grabbed my hand and I squeezed. I recognized the place. It was the basement of the library, where I'd stored the boxes for Ms. Finstead the other night. Well now it all makes sense. No wonder Kirke showed up where he did in the tunnel to help.

"We're in the library basement," I said. "Kirke must have used his supernatural force to push the metal door out for us."

"Or maybe I loosened it enough and it slipped out. Ghosts, yeah right."

"There's no point in arguing, E. I know what I know. Besides, you saw him too." The boy lives in serious denial. "Now hurry—through the door over there and up the stairs!"

When we got to the main floor, I was shocked. The wood and glass case at the top of the stairs had collapsed on the floor. It held some of the town's artifacts for the special collections we were featuring this month. Two-hundred-year-old relics found in the canyon nearby lay under the pieces of broken glass. I had just set up the display with her last week. Native American jewelry, corn husk dolls, weapons, and pottery lay among the pieces of the case. I wanted to cry for real.

Then, in the main room where the circulation desk was, the place was a total mess. And past the marble columns where the books were shelved, most were scattered on the floor.

But worst of all was the big old stained glass dome window which sat above the check-out desk, broken in pieces on the wood floor. Out of all the windows in the library, why that one? It was my favorite because it was a scene from the mad tea party in Alice in Wonderland. And then I thought of Ms. Finstead. Where had she been standing when the window shattered? I was afraid to look behind the counter. What if she was lying there?

"Come on, let's go," Evan said. "I don't think it's safe in here if another aftershock hits."

"Okay, in a minute," I answered. I made myself go over to the big wood desk, the one I'd stood behind with Ms. Finstead hundreds of times. I could see her purse still shoved in the cubby she uses.

But I didn't see Ms. Finstead or any of the other librarians that work during the day. What I did see was almost as bad. Blood. And lots of it.

"I feel sick." And I did. It was a lot of blood. How hurt were my friends?

"I know," he said. "Let's get you out of here."

Pushing through the front doors, we saw the small park in front of the library was full of people. There was a paramedic truck, and some EMTs were kneeling on the ground by someone. I recognized the shoes peeking out beyond the group and ran over. Louisa May Alcott sat on the curb, not far from Ms. Finstead, meowing the saddest meow ever.

"Is she okay?" I was shaking as I reached down to pet Louisa. She got up and started rubbing herself against me. The cat must have been seriously sprung because affection's so not her style. And when I got a good look at my friend I knew why Louisa was so upset. Ms. Finstead's eyes were closed and there was a bandage wrapped around her head. Her left leg had a huge gash on it and I could see they'd put a tourniquet around it. I wondered where the other librarians were and how badly they were hurt.

"BP's dropping," one said. "Where's the ambulance?"

"What if she doesn't make it?" I gripped Evan's arm. "She can't die!"

"Don't think that way," he said. "She's in good hands. We can't do anything for her, but we might be able to save George's life. We've got to hurry."

I wasn't so sure anymore what was right. To leave Ms. Finstead didn't seem okay at all. I loved the lady.

"I need to call my mom," I said. "She'll know what to do." But when I pulled out my phone, the screen said SEARCHING FOR SERVICE.

"Mine says the same. System must be overloaded or maybe some cell towers were damaged."

The world was upside down right now. I felt helpless as the EMTs worked on Ms. Finstead because I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do. But Evan was right. There was someone else who needed saving and we didn't know how long George had left. What time was he planning to join Emily? Or had he already done it?

"Okay, let's go," I said.

We took off toward town. There was a lot of damage to the houses around the library, but as we passed some of the newer buildings, I was surprised it wasn't as bad there.

"
Think we should start at the Methodist church?" I asked.

"Yup." Evan was already breathing heavily. Cardio? Not so much. "We've seen him the most there so it makes sense."

Just a few blocks away from the church we had to wait for a chance to cross. The street light was out and there was no policeman to direct traffic so it was pretty chaotic. People were on the streets talking, probably afraid to go back into their offices.

"Look." I pointed to the tower above the theater where they would raise and lower the stage sets in the old days. "The tower lost a lot of its bricks." Pretty scary actually. They littered the street and I saw people stepping around them. Probably not such a good place to walk if stuff started shaking again. And that's when I peered up at the sky and saw the creepiest of creepy.

"The birds," I said. "They're flying all crazy."

Crows, blue jays, and even what I think were hawks were flying in circles and screaming at the top of their bird lungs.

"That's like end-of-days creepy, and you know I don't believe in that stuff."

"Totally." I nodded. But I didn't say what I was actually thinking. Birds know stuff way before humans. It's got to mean the aftershocks aren't over.

We rounded the corner and I saw the church and sighed with relief. Seemed like it was still in one piece. Both of us sped up and for now, the world was still.