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Once I'm satisfied that the branch is blocking the way in, I settle back in the cavern. I feel like I'm sitting in a stone tent with a peaked roof. I have to keep my light off for the night. Those Dwellers have amazing eyesight if they function in complete darkness so well. I take my phone and feel for my backpack, which I've set up against the wall of the cave. My eyes adjust and I barely make out the shape of the space I'm in. I have enough room to stretch out and stand hunched over, but no more.
The light fades outside and the scream comes again. It's some kind of animal. A mountain lion? A coyote? No. This is something much bigger and scarier. It reminds me of a train horn.
There's no way I can relax in here.
I sit up against the back of the little cave. I feel for the axe, which I've left somewhere on the floor. For a terrifying minute, my hand only scrapes against dirt and I wonder if I've left it outside, but at last, I find the handle up against the left wall. I need to keep this close tonight. It's still possible that something could tear at that branch I've set in the entrance and get in. I need something to defend myself. I feel a little better holding it close. But will I be able to swing it in this small space without hurting myself? It's heavier than I expected.
I check the branch again. It's staying there until I manage to yank it out with all my strength or cut away with it using the axe. I'm not even sure how I managed to do this in the first place.
Maybe I should try to sleep.
My stomach rumbles and promises a hard night. I have to sleep. I need to conserve as much energy as I can. Morning will be here soon enough and I'll have the matter of finding something besides pinecone seeds and burnberries to eat.
At least I have my backpack. I set in on the floor of the cave and put my head on it. Why hadn't I thought to pack some extra clothes in here? Another sweater, in case it gets cold? I could really use something better as a pillow.
The scream comes again, jarring me.
It's far away, I tell myself. Miles away. It'll find something else to eat and it'll go back to whatever hole it came out of.
I set my head back down and close my eyes. It's all I can do. I have to rest. I'll burn out too fast if I stand at guard all night. The screaming isn't any closer, at least.
I let my mind drift. There's nothing but silence outside along with a bit of breeze. I open my eyes to check everything again. There's a tiny opening on top of the stone tent and I make out one star through it. It's bright. There must be a great view out here for astronomers, if any have managed to wander out here. But I'm not going to head out to see any of those sights. Not tonight.
I close my eyes again and think of Shawn and how he must be spending this time. He must not know if it is night or day. Maybe he's lucky and the Dwellers have let him up so he can chop down some trees. Maybe he can get some fresh air.
Shawn.
I miss him. I want him here beside me, telling me that whatever's out there won't get us. And Talia. I miss her laugh, and our conversations that used to last until two in the morning, when we were in our houses with light and safety and food and no chance of something coming and eating us in the middle of the night.
I float away. Maybe I can sleep after all. The screaming out there has stopped, at least. Maybe that thing has found something to eat and it's busy.
Strange images float in front of my face and I realize I'm drifting off to sleep. Will I wake? I'm not sure, but either way, I'll be more likely to survive if I get a little bit of rest.
“Elaine, you can do it. Stop that crying and get up that wall.”
I look up at my camp counselor, Ella. She leans over me with both hands on her hips. Her whistle dangles from her neck and swings in front of her Camp Nature Valley T-shirt. I hate summer camp. I never wanted to come here. I hate bugs. I hate the woods. I wanted to take dancing instead. But Mom demanded that I leave home for the summer. Mom and Dad are mad at each other and Dad hasn't been home in a really long time. He hasn't walked through the door in two weeks and Mom won't tell me what happened to him. Just that I need to go to summer camp and get away.
“I can't,” I say. I eye the rock wall, where the other kids have already made it to the top. Scott's already climbing down, his feet hitting all the rungs. I hate high places. They make me dizzy. “I already tried, Ella. You told me to try, and I did.”
“I want you to try again,” she says. “I want your butt to climb to the top of the wall and get back down. Now, Elaine. I think you'll surprise yourself with what you can do.”
I turn to face the wall again. Scott sneers at me. “Are you scared?” he asks. “Are you a scardey-cat? You always cry when you have to do this.”
“It's too high,” I say to Ella. I want out of here. I want Mom to tell me why Dad hasn't come home. What if Dad is dead and she doesn't want to tell me? She could be lying about him being fine. “I want to go home. I want someone to tell me where my Dad is.”
Ella makes a strange face, like she knows something that I don't. She doesn't speak for a long time. “You're safe here. I have the harness hooked onto you. I want you to have fun. Trust me. You can do this.”
No one will tell me anything. Maybe if I'm good here and I try harder, they will.
I turn towards the wall. Why is Ella so mean? I never wanted to come to summer camp. Mom made me. I'm going to tell her that I hate it when I write my letter home. And where is Dad? He would never make me come out here. Mom wanted to get rid of me because something is happening at home. I'm eight years old. I'm a big girl and not a little kid anymore. She should tell me.
“Now, Elaine.”
I reach for the rungs. The harness digs into me and I can't breathe.
I start to climb.
Sniffing.
I jar out of sleep and nothing but darkness meets my eyes. They adjust. There's a stone tent right above my head and a little opening right above my face, only large enough to let a caterpillar through. The stars are brilliant in the night sky. There's a vaporous line of them right across the black, as if someone has taken a paintbrush and done a magical, glowing stroke across the night.
Sniffing.
I'm in this cave. In a world that's empty of people, except for the ones enslaved underground. It's night. There are bad things out there and something is checking out the outside of my shelter.
I reach for the axe. The handle's there in the dirt next to me. How did I dare let go of it? I sit up and the sound comes again. It's to my left, right on the other side of the rock. The creature has caught my scent and it knows I'm in here. What if it's whatever was screaming earlier? It knows there's a meal if only it can find a way in.
“Go away,” I mutter. I bite my lip. Hold my breath. What if it can hear me?
Footsteps patter around the shelter. The sniffing comes again. I catch the shadow of a large shape on the other side of the branch, blocking out the little starlight that's coming through. I can't move. I hold my breath and watch. The shape moves to the right a little and vanishes. Water splashes. It's gone to the river, whatever it is. I don't dare move in case it hears me. I don't want to use this axe.
Maybe the thing is finding some fish to eat. Maybe it only eats small animals. If I'm lucky, it will fill up on those and leave me alone. Perhaps I was just an interesting, unknown scent. But my heart pounds and I know that if the creature really wanted to, it could have gotten in. Maybe the pine scent simply threw it off and confused it. Or maybe it's searching for me down at the bank. I hope it follows my trail back up the river and to the valley.
I let myself breathe. The shape doesn't return. I catch another sniffing noise, but it's farther away. The creature's moving away, at least. Will it be gone by morning? What if it's still out there when the sun comes up, waiting for me to come out?
I scoot a little closer to the entrance. I can peek through and at least see what I'm dealing with.
There's the soft roar of thousands of little feet, coming from somewhere far away.
I backpedal from the entran
ce and all the way back to the rear of the cave.
The noise grows louder. I know what it is. The Dwellers have come out of the mines and they're searching for me. They've come all the way down the river in a fraction of the time I did. I wonder if Mr. Larconi and Roger are with them.
The soft roar grows louder. They're headed this way. Can they smell me? See me through the stone? Feel the vibrations of my heartbeat? They must rely on their other senses if they live in the dark. I keep still. They might be able to squeeze through the needles of the branch to get to me. If they knock me out, it's only a matter of time before they clear the barricade and drag me away. If I even survive the trip back to the mine, it'll be a miracle. Something else might grab me and eat me while I'm knocked out.
My phone.
It still has the flashlight app. I might have to use the last of my battery fending them off.
I scramble for my backpack and reach inside. My phone's still there on the bottom, a plastic rectangle in a world of nature. I pull it out and light up the screen.
The stampede turns to thunder right above me.
They're on top of my cave. I look up to see tiny little shapes darting across the opening, swarming, blocking out the stars. They're here. I remain still and wait for them to leave, but the noise remains the same. They squeak to each other. They're trying to figure out a way in.
My phone lights up. There's no use in hiding it now. They're not going to go away if I do nothing. The axe won't do any good here. They're too small for me to hit and too numerous.
The app.
I turn it on and light blazes, casting the entire cave in dark blue.
The branch at the entrance of the cave rustles. Afterimages swim in front of my eyes. I point the phone at the barricade, which turns brilliant green. I catch a glimpse of a tiny hand, green and disgusting, pushing through the needles along with a yellow sleeve. It retracts and I'm rewarded with squeaks of pain. The light's hurting them. I keep it aimed at the entrance and the skittering fades a bit. Stops.
“Yes!” I yell. This is the only way the Dwellers can get in. I have only one entrance to defend. But how much longer will the night last?
If it's too much longer, I won't make it.
I have to conserve power. I turn off the app and keep my finger over the virtual button, ready to turn it on at a moments' notice. They will probably try to return once they get their bearings. They will return. How much battery do I have? I look down.
Two bars.
It has to last me until morning.
The skittering goes farther away, then stops again like the Dwellers are reconsidering. I know they are. They didn't come all the way out here to go home empty handed. What if they think of something else to get me out? They might try to send whatever thing was out there a few minutes ago. The flashlight app probably won't do much more than make it mad unless it's like the Dwellers and it's sensitive to light.
And then the soft roar of their feet grows closer again. They're making another charge.
Wait, Shawn says. Wait until they're here. Don't waste any battery. I'm glad that in a way, he's still here with me. It's all I have.
I wait until the sound's overwhelming. Until the branch rustles and shakes. I point the phone at the entrance again and turn on the app. More squeals and squeaks sound through the air. The skittering retracts back into the night and I turn off the app.
I still have two bars. I might not make it until daybreak.
If my battery runs out, I'm dead. Or worse. At least I might be able to see Shawn again if those men decide that I'm good enough to be a worker after all. I've made it this long. I've survived and maybe that's proof enough for them.
Don't give up, Shawn says. Don't think like that.
The Dwellers make a third charge, squeaking with anger. They mean it this time. The branch over my entrance trembles and something wiggles through.
“Get out of here!” I fumble with the phone and point it at the Dweller. I catch a glimpse of disgusting green eyes and a frog face for a split second before it retracts back out into the safety of the night. “Get out!” When are they going to learn? I don't care if I'm screaming, even though it's possible Larconi and Roger are out there. Nausea courses through me and I think I'm going to vomit. Even the tiny glimpse of the Dweller's eyes have sickened me. Any more might have made me pass out. That's all they really need to accomplish a win here. I can't risk looking any more. Next time they try to break through, I have to face the ceiling.
I turn off the app.
The nausea fades and I check.
One bar.
I glance up at the sky through the crack, but there's no sign of daylight. Or is there? The sky might be turning a dark blue rather than black, or it could just be my eyes adjusting back to the pitch darkness.
Another round of skittering. They're making a fourth charge. I wonder which one of them had to draw straws to be the first this time. They might be taking turns.
And then, sniffing and footfalls join in.
Something growls outside my entrance and the Dwellers squeal, but this time with horror. The charge stops. Little feet scatter. Something's attacking them and it just might be the thing that was outside my shelter earlier in the night. The noise is disjointed. Their crowd's breaking apart. I hear one terrified squeak cut over the others and then a loud crunch. The squeak dies as if choked off.
Is this thing outside eating the Dwellers?
It must be. A gross chewing sound sounds from outside and turns my stomach. Or maybe I'm still sick from seeing the Dweller poke its face in here. The dark shape from earlier has returned and it's devouring those things. Dwellers have enemies out here after all. Predators. They must really want me back if they've risked so much to follow me this far.
Stay out there, I pray to whatever's here. Stay out there the rest of the night. Please.
More chewing. Some tiny footfalls return from farther away, but they stop and retreat again. I imagine all the Dwellers in a ring around the creature, trying to get closer to save their friend. I'm glad they just watched their buddy get munched. They deserve it after what they've done to Shawn and Travis and Talia.
And then the stampede fades again. They're leaving, maybe for good this time.
More chewing. The creature sniffs around my shelter again and walks around it. Its feet sound heavy and dangerous. Maybe I shouldn't be happy that it's here after all. The Dweller could just be an appetizer and I could be next.
I turn off my phone and sit on it to stifle the music of it powering down. It vibrates as it plays its song and goes dead.
The creature sniffs one last time and waddles off, perhaps in search of more Dwellers. Perhaps not. I hear the sound of it flopping on the ground nearby as if it's ready for a nap. I hope. Maybe it'll decide to go away once the sun rises again. I can't help but wonder if it's keeping guard or if it knows I'm Dweller bait.
I was lucky.
Very lucky.
I might not have made it to dawn. Once morning comes, I'll need to get out of here and get even farther away. I'll need to think of a better place to stay the night if I don't find whoever made that perfect, round pile of pinecones.
I eye the sky again through the crack.
It's getting lighter.
Not much, but the sky's turning gray and I can't make out the vapor of the galaxy above. Morning is coming. Maybe that's another reason the Dwellers left.
I keep my ears sharp, but no skittering returns. Perhaps they're running back to their mine or to hide in some other dark place for the day. Once the sun comes up, I'm out of here and I'm never coming back.
Chapter Five
Hungry
I lie there, head on my backpack. My stomach rumbles again. It's painful now. Desperate. Gnawing. My head's beginning to pound and another wave of burning nausea rises in me. My limbs quake. I can't still be sick from the Dwellers.
Then I get it.
I'm so hungry that I'm becoming weak and ill. I haven't eate
n in over twenty-four hours, if there are even hours in this world. What did I eat last? Oh, yes. The gross school pizza in the cafeteria while I was sitting with Shawn. He had his arm wrapped around my middle and he was telling a joke about how the grease on it could be used to slick back his hair into a 1950's cut. I laughed.
I'd give anything to have that pizza right now. To have Shawn here to share it with. I'd even give anything to be at the boring dinner Mom and Garrett would have prepared for those guys from his work. To hear how Garrett's undercutting his competition and supplying equipment to some new company.
But none of that is here.
There's only me. And survival.
My head swims. I wonder if I'm going to pass out if I stand.
The sky turns orange and then finally, to a lighter shade of blue. It's another sunny day here in Dweller land. Birds chirp. I can even hear the gurgling of the river. I hear no sign of the other creature that checked out my shelter overnight. It could be gone for all I know. Light shines through the pine needles in my barricade, my barricade that barely managed to protect me overnight. The sun forms little patterns on the stone next to my head. I try to make shapes out of them. It reminds me of all those weekend mornings in my room when I got to sleep in. My canopy bed used to filter out the sunlight and cast a lavender glow on the floor. Mom would be calling me down for breakfast right about now. She's probably at the police station, out of her mind. So is Garrett.
I hate that I got mad at her.
My stomach rumbles again.
Enough thinking. It's time to get out of here and figure out what I'm going to have for breakfast. There's fish in the river, lots of them. And, well, fish.
Fish it is, then.
The thing is, I have no idea how to catch them, especially since I don't have a pole. There's no string in this place to tie a lure to. And what do I use as a lure? There must be worms and grubs in the ground that might work, but I don't have a hook. And it's not like I can grab a fish with my bare hands.