Authors: C. Cervi
“Are you sleeping in here?” Philip asked quietly.
“Is that all right with you?”
It was quiet for a long while, and Aaron wondered if the boy had fallen asleep. He was trying to decide whether he should lie down or just go back to his own room, when Philip finally spoke.
“I want you to,” came the soft reply.
Aaron breathed a sigh of relief as he eased slowly back onto the mattress.
“Goodnight, Keith,” he said.
Keith’s intermittent snores were his only answer, and those were soon joined by Philip’s, but Aaron had trouble falling asleep. Something was worrying him, although he couldn’t lay a finger on exactly what it was. The throbbing pain from where he had banged his toe wasn’t helping matters any, and his tired mind refused to focus.
He did fall asleep at some point, because the next morning, he bolted upright at the sound of loud voices coming from the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Keith asked, jumping from his bed.
Aaron got up and quickly headed out of the room. A man he’d never seen before was in the middle of a heated argument with Grant.
“Where are they?” the man yelled. “What is this place?”
“You need to calm down,” Grant spoke forcefully.
Aaron noticed the man was wearing a uniform like the other prisoners, but from his clean-shaven appearance, he guessed the short, angry blonde had been abducted recently.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” the man continued. “Who are you people?”
A few of the other prisoners had come out into the hall to observe the scene, and the man’s eyes darted around the hallway, taking them in. Aaron stepped forward to speak, but the man suddenly turned back to Grant.
“Get out of my way,” he said. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
He tried to push his way past the much larger man, but Grant reached out and grabbed his arm. Almost in the same instant, the man turned and punched Grant hard in the stomach. Grant barely winced, and tightened his grip on the man’s arm.
“Let me go,” the man screamed as he swung again.
Grant let loose with a punch then that sent the man flying into the wall behind him. His head left a small crack in the wall, and he slid slowly to the ground. Grant stood, breathing hard his fists clenched tightly. He took a step toward the man and Aaron braced himself—ready to intervene if need be. The man on the floor sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head. He looked up at Grant, and Aaron could see caution in his eyes, but something else too. He looked almost excited. Grant took a deep breath, and Aaron relaxed when the big man held out a hand to the stranger. The man allowed Grant to help him to his feet, and then used his sleeve to wipe the blood off his swelling lips.
“Don’t do this,” Grant said and, for a moment, the two men locked eyes. Aaron was puzzled over Grant’s words but was even more surprised when Grant finally lowered his gaze and turned and walked away.
The man stood, staring after him, and Aaron decided now would be a good time to step in.
“I wouldn’t take it personally,” Aaron said. “He greets everybody that way.” When the man didn’t respond he continued. “My name’s Aaron, and this is my brother Keith.”
The man looked between the two, and then his gaze shifted to Philip. The boy was still standing in the open doorway of his room, but the other prisoners had already followed Grant down to breakfast.
“Name’s Daniel,” he said after a moment, extending a hand.
Aaron observed the man for a moment—he had strong rugged features, and a confidant manner, but something about him had Aaron on his guard. Something about the man was familiar, although he couldn’t put his finger on just what it was.
Aaron noticed that Daniel still seemed pretty tense, and he assumed that it was over the rough treatment he had received from Grant, but there seemed to be something else there, too—anxiousness.
“If you’ll just point me in the right direction, I’ll be on my way,” Daniel said.
“There’s only one way out that I’m aware of, and that’s through the main gate,” Aaron replied, “but I wouldn’t recommend trying it.”
He then lowered his voice and leaned in close as he spoke. “At least not yet.”
Daniel stepped back and gave Aaron a hard look; he seemed to be sizing him up.
“Look, I have no idea what’s going on here,” Daniel declared loudly. “All I know is that I woke up in some strange place, with a pounding headache, and my sister is missing.”
“Your sister?” Aaron repeated in alarm. He’d wondered why there had only been one new prisoner. “I’m assuming you were both camped in the canyon last night?”
Daniel nodded, and a strange sort of smile came over his face. “Do you know where she is?”
“Don’t panic,” a feminine voice interrupted. “You’ll see her again.”
Annie had just exited her room and was starting down the hall. “They’ll let her go when they’re done with her,” she explained.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daniel demanded, taking a forceful step in her direction.
As Annie looked at the man, Aaron thought he might have seen a spark of recognition in her eyes. She took a step closer to Daniel. Her expression was hard to read, but Aaron was pretty sure it was contempt he saw in her eyes. Daniel matched her gaze, unflinching.
“What Annie means,” Aaron said, trying to keep the situation calm, “is that she’s here somewhere, and if we work together we might be able to find her.”
“Annie.” He turned to the woman who was now regarding him with an expression of indifference. “I’m assuming you know where they’re keeping her. Is there anything you can tell us that will help us find Daniel’s sister?”
Aaron watched as her gaze shifted between him and the new prisoner. For a moment, her eyes locked with his and he was confused by what he saw. Her eyes seemed to be silently pleading with him. He blinked at her in confusion and, just that quickly, her walls were back up.
“All I can tell you is that it was dark,” she answered, turning away from him back toward Daniel. “It was hard to see . . . I mostly remember shadows . . . and voices.”
“So, you don’t know where you were?” Aaron tried gently, once more.
“Like I said, it was dark, and if you want my advice—don’t go looking for her. You’ll most likely just get her and yourselves killed.” She turned then and walked away.
Aaron thought he had seen tears in her eyes—her behavior was as hard to figure out as Grant’s.
“I think I might have an idea,” Aaron said, turning back to Daniel. “You might be just what we need to motivate some of the other prisoners to-”
“Prisoners?” Daniel cut in. “What are you talking about? What kind of place is this?”
“I promise you, I’ll tell you what I know,” Aaron replied, motioning for Daniel to calm down. He noticed that Keith and Philip were looking anxiously up and down the long hallway. “It’s not safe for us to talk here though. Come down to breakfast with us now, and as soon as I can. I’ll explain.”
Daniel absently rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “But what about my sister? If they’re doing anything to her like . . . well, what that other girl said . . . I can’t just sit here.”
“We won’t,” Aaron replied. “But, if we really want to help your sister, then we have to have a plan.”
Daniel hesitated, and Aaron felt for the man that was, now, in the position he had found himself in only a short time ago. Finally, Daniel nodded and then followed Aaron down to the dining room.
They ate quickly, and as they did, Aaron glanced at the board. It was no surprise to him to see that only a handful of prisoners were assigned to the mine that day. He’d thought that clearing the mine would be their top priority, but now it seemed that they had something else to preoccupy themselves. He had a pretty good idea of where they were keeping the girl, and he shuddered as he thought of an innocent young woman in that frightening place.
When they’d finished eating, Aaron and Keith led Daniel out into the yard, heading toward the fields they had started clearing awhile back.
As soon as they were out of earshot of the other prisoners, Aaron started talking. “Okay, I think I know where they might be keeping your sister,” he told Daniel. “I’ve been there once before so, if I can get in, I might be able to get to her.”
“But you’re scheduled for the fields,” Keith said. “I don’t think Grant will let you in there.”
“That’s where you two help out,” he answered. “I need you to create a distraction, so I can slip inside.”
“I want to come with you,” Daniel and Keith both said at once.
“I appreciate the support,” Aaron said, “but, the chances of even one of us getting through without being spotted are slim, and I am the one that knows the way.”
“What are you going to do when you get to her?” Keith asked. “We don’t know how many or even who we’re dealing with.”
Aaron flexed his fingers nervously, he knew his plan only led him so far. But, at least, it was a plan, and if he was going to die in this place—he would rather die on his own terms, rather than waiting around for someone else to decide his time was up. The only thing that had stopped him from just making a break for it a long time ago was his brother, and the other prisoners.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, looking first at Daniel and then Keith. “If I’m caught, it’s not only me that will be in danger. I’ll be putting everyone else here, including the two of you, at risk.”
Aaron knew that Keith, being his brother, would most likely be the one they would retaliate against should worst come to worst.
“Well, if you’re not going, I am,” Keith answered, with a cocky grin, and Aaron couldn’t help but return the smile.
“We have to try,” was all Daniel said.
“Okay, then. We’re agreed.” Aaron said, then turned to Keith, “If anything happens and I don’t come back . . .”
“Oh no, you don’t, older brother. I need someone around to wake me up in the mornings, remember?”
Aaron nodded, and went back to planning. They continued quietly talking things over until they reached the edge of the field. Aaron was about to signal them to begin, when Daniel suddenly turned and shoved Keith hard. Keith landed on the ground a good three feet from where he’d been standing, and Aaron wondered for a moment whether the anger he saw in Keith’s eyes was real or if he was just a good actor. Keith got up quickly and rushed into the much stronger man with a startling fierceness, and Aaron found himself relieved to see that his brother still had so much fight in him.
The distraction worked just as they had planned, and Aaron slipped away as a crowd of prisoners gathered. He ran as quickly as his abused body would allow him, and when he got to the shed, he stepped inside and took a quick glance back toward his brother. The prisoners were all standing around the scene. No one was yelling—just watching with wide, frightened eyes. Grant had each man by an arm and was shaking them. Next to the giant man, they looked like children being scolded for a schoolyard brawl.
Without wasting any more time, Aaron looked around, then grabbed the only tool left in the shed—a shovel. As he entered the mine, a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds and shone down on his back. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be the last time he ever felt the warmth of sunlight.
C
hapter 15
Before Aaron entered the mine, he’d been confidant in his decision, and its successful outcome. But now that his plan was underway, his feelings of apprehension were almost palpable. He’d been inside this mine so many times, and it was always dark and oppressive, but this time was different. This time he wasn’t supposed to be there. Annie’s warning that he would end up getting them all killed rang in his mind, making him doubt himself even deeper. There was only one thing he knew with surety and that was, no matter what happened, he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, not this time. Taking a deep breath he continued forward, clinging to the hope that things would work out differently for this girl than they had for Annie.
He made his way quickly down the tunnels, knowing there weren’t many prisoners working in the mine, yet he was still cautious; staying close to the walls. He didn’t stop until he felt he was far beyond where any prisoners might be working and then, only long enough to grab a candle.
At first, he had no trouble retracing his steps from the night he and Keith had been trapped, but after a while, everything started to look the same and he hesitated. He didn’t have time to get lost. He held his candle higher, trying to decide which way to go, hoping something would come to him. He flinched when some of the melted wax hit his hand and he dropped the candle. The flame managed to stay lit, and as he bent to pick it up, he noticed fresh footprints. Carrying the candle low to the ground, he followed the tracks until they led him straight to a familiar chamber and, once again, seemed to disappear behind a solid rock wall. Stepping back out of the chamber, he scanned the ground for anymore footprints. There were none. Relying on instinct, he chose a direction and proceeded down the tunnel. A moment later, he knew he had chosen correctly when he heard a muffled sound in the distance. It was still far away, but he recognized it as a scream. Instantly, he was on the run, forgetting all about the room behind him and the need for caution—the only thing on his mind was to get to the girl as soon as possible. As he ran, the flame on his candle went out, but he never noticed. He was following the light coming from the chamber where he knew the girl was being held. He was a dozen yards from the entrance to the chamber when he stumbled over some rocks and his injured ankle gave out beneath him. He hit the ground hard, and as he struggled to push himself up, a rush of air wafted over him accompanied by frighteningly familiar voices.
“You’re too late,” they whispered.
The voices were immediately followed by a loud, anguished scream.
“No!” He clenched his fists and jumped up, ignoring the searing pain in his ankle. When he reached the entrance, he stopped for a moment and reached out to the wall for support. There were no more sounds coming from the room and he felt suddenly sick to his stomach. Drawing on a strength from deep inside, he stepped into the chamber. Several of the torches seemed to light at once, and he shielded his eyes from the brightness. When he moved his arm, his eyes immediately went to the table in the center of the room. What he saw caused his stomach to heave. He turned away and for a few minutes, retching violently. Never in his life had he seen such carnage. They hadn’t just killed the girl—she was mutilated—the words Tom had spoken about Emily’s father came back to him.
“Nobody should have to die like that.”
The whispering started again, and his body began to shake with anger.
“Why?” he screamed out to the disembodied voices.
“You shouldn’t have come,” they answered, and he froze.
He grabbed the sides of his head as Annie’s words reverberated around his mind. “You’ll just get her killed.”
The whispering was becoming louder, and he had trouble making out what they were saying, only picking out a few words and phrases.
“Your fault . . . you killed her . . .”
He covered his ears trying to shut out the noise, but not before one particular phrase caught his attention.
“Who’s next?”
His head shot up, and he looked around the room frantically.
Another rush of air passed over him, and a cold sweat ran down his back as the voices all blended into one and whispered a name.
“Emily . . .”
“No,” Aaron shouted and then turned and ran from the chamber. The words that followed him down the tunnel nearly caused his heart to burst.
“Too late . . .”
Aaron raced through the tunnels—his mind in more agony than his body. Images of the girl behind him fueled him forward. He wouldn’t allow himself to think that Emily might have suffered the same fate. As he ran, he heard a voice shouting, and it took a few minutes before he realized it was him calling the young girl’s name. He wove through tunnels, instinctively following the way out. He pushed his way past a few of the prisoners that had come to see what all the commotion was about, ignoring the faces full of confusion and alarm he raced on. His chest was on fire and his breathing was becoming ragged, but he continued to run. Finally, he could see the light coming from the entrance, and he burst through into the bright sunlight. Momentarily blinded, he still plunged on, calling for Emily when he suddenly found himself stopped by a pair of strong arms.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Grant demanded. “What the blazes is going on?”
Aaron grasped for the front of the man’s shirt, still blinking from the harsh sunlight.
“They’re going to kill her,” he gasped.
“Who?” Grant asked.
“Emily,” he said, then turned as a small voice spoke.
“I’m here, Aaron,” Emily said in alarm. “Who’s going to kill me?”
The relief that rushed through his body made his legs go weak, and if Grant hadn’t still been holding him, he would have fallen to the ground. But that relief soon turned to confusion. They had said he was too late, and yet here she was standing in front of him. His head was swimming and Grant slowly released him allowing him to put his head down.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Grant said after a moment. “You shouldn’t have gone in there. You’ve put all of us at risk.”
Aaron barely heard his words through the pounding in his head, but Grant’s next question came through loud and clear.
“Is your brother still in there?”
Aaron’s head shot up and he looked toward the fields. They were empty.
“Where is he?” he demanded.
Seizing Grant’s shirt, Aaron clawed his way up from the ground—his eyes roaming wildly around the yard. In desperation he turned to Emily.
“Where’s my brother?”
The girl’s eyes were filled with tears, and she shook her head helplessly.
Aaron began to stagger around the yard, calling Keith’s name. In the background, he could hear Emily crying, and Grant telling him to calm down. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether he should go back into the mine, or head for the house. Suddenly, he caught sight of someone in the distance, just off the side of the house. He couldn’t quite make out who it was, but he was the right size to be Daniel, and he’d been the last one to be with Keith. Aaron called after him as he started in that direction, but was surprised when Grant reached out and caught his arm.
“Don’t,” the big man said, then, looking around anxiously, lowered his voice. “This is just a game, and you’ll lose.”
The man’s words didn’t make sense to Aaron, but at that moment it didn’t matter.
“I have to find my brother,” he said, ripping his arm away.
Grant hesitated—his eyes sad and, for a moment, Aaron thought Grant might offer to help, but his hopes were crushed when the man finally did speak.
“You do what you think you have to. But, you’re on your own. We can’t help you.”
Aaron gave a curt nod and turned toward the house. Driven by desperation, he ran as fast as he was able, hoping to be in time to catch up with the person he’d seen. He could feel the panic bubbling up inside of him, threatening to strangle the very breath from his lungs. When he rounded the side of the house, he stopped suddenly. Standing a short distance away was the man he’d seen. Something about the situation wasn’t right, but he had no choice except to continue forward.
“Where’s my brother?” he asked, taking a step toward the man.
He stopped again when the man’s shoulders began to shake and, a moment later, he heard a strange sort of cackling noise. He realized with alarm that the man was laughing.
“You think I have him?” the man asked without turning around.
His voice was low and raspy, but one that Aaron recognized instantly.
His mind flew back to the chamber—to the horrific sight that had greeted him, and the eerie whispering voices. He could feel his stomach beginning to churn once again. Willing himself to remain calm, he drew his mouth into a firm line, and took another step toward the figure.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
The man still didn’t turn.
“Don’t you know?” the raspy voice asked. “I would have thought you’d read about me in that book of yours.”
Aaron drew back in alarm, and instinctively felt for the book. It was still there. How? How could they have known? His mind was reeling with unanswered questions, but before he could settle on any one of them, he felt a sharp pain at the base of his neck. Reaching back for the spot, he felt his legs buckle beneath him, and his vision began to blur, and he watched helplessly as the figure turned and slowly walked toward him. Aaron fought the darkness threatening to overwhelm him, and forced himself to look up—into a face he recognized.
“Why?” he asked, as the world started to grow dark.
“Because it’s fun . . .”
Aaron’s dreams were vivid—full of ghostly outlines and shadows. Sometimes the figures would twist and turn, finally taking shape. He recognized the local sheriff, his father, even . . .
“Mama,” he called, reaching out to her.
But, anyone he drew near would suddenly shift into a terrifying monster. He turned and ran, ducking into the nearest corner—surrounded by enemies with no one to turn to—no one to trust.
“Help me,” a desperate voice whispered, and Aaron looked up into the ashen face of a young woman.
“Who are you?”
“It’s not important,” she whispered as tears slipped from her eyes. “You were too late.”
Suddenly, the woman shifted and, in the next instant, Annie was standing before him.
“I told you what would happen,” she accused.
Aaron cried out and covered his face with his hands as she began to distort, turning into the disfigured corpse from the chamber. He fell to the floor and drew his knees up to his chest.
“Please, stop,” he cried.
Instantly, everything grew quiet and he slowly removed his hands from his face. He found himself standing inside one of the tunnels to the mine. The soft glow of firelight shone from a chamber at the end of the tunnel. He knew where it led, but he had no desire to go there.
“Aaron, help me,” the young woman called.
Aaron stood still, shaking his head.
This isn’t real.
He turned to walk away, and suddenly the voice changed. Recognizing it as his brother’s, he whipped around. Aaron’s eyes jerked open and, this time, he was in his bed, inside the house. He jumped up, wincing at the intense pain coming from his ankle. His head was pounding, but he ignored it.
“Aaron, please,” Keith screamed.
“I’m coming,” he called, and as soon as his feet hit the cold floor he knew this was real. His nightmares were coming true.
He grabbed the knob, yanking hard, and was startled to find it locked. Aaron could hear what sounded like the lash of a whip, and with each crack, Keith’s screams became more desperate.
“Aaron . . . help me.”
Aaron pulled on the door, beating his hands against it.
“Let me out of here. Philip . . . Emily,” he called frantically.
Aaron’s own desperate scream joined Keith’s with the next lash as he threw himself into the door. Over and over he used his shoulder as a battering ram until the pain became so intense, he was forced to stop. Finally, in frustration, he turned and circled his room, looking for anything that might open the door that was now stained with his blood. His head jerked when he heard a sound, and he rushed back across the room.
“Who’s there?” he called through the door.
“It’s me, Emily,” the girl answered.
Aaron shuddered as another scream from Keith interrupted them.
“Can you get me out?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I’m trying—wait, I think I’ve almost got it.”
Aaron’s brief moment of joy was changed to despair when Emily gave a startled cry, and he heard a soft thump. Before he even had a chance to react, Keith gave a final heart wrenching scream, and then all was silent. Aaron let his head drop against the door and gave in to the agony inside him. Slowly he sank to the ground as wracking sobs shook his body.
“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry.”
Aaron didn’t know how long he lay, unmoving on the floor, but he did know that if his little brother was gone, there was no reason for him to get up again. Streams of sunlight managed to creep in between the cracks in the walls and he could hear a few birds chirping—a sound that usually cheered him, but now it was just a painful reminder that life would go on, regardless of how much pain, suffering, and loss he endured. This time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go along with it. Memories of the day before came over him in waves and he had a hard time separating dream from reality. A young woman had been killed, but who she was, he was no longer sure. It had been Daniel he’d encountered by the house, but he wasn’t the same man that had been desperate to get to his sister. He was the face behind one of the voices in the tunnel. The whole thing had been some sort of sick game. A game that Grant apparently knew about and had played along with. He struggled to make sense of what he’d seen—of what was going on. Grant had tried to warn him. He’d told him it was a game and that he would lose. But, Grant had been wrong. He hadn’t lost. Keith had, and try as he might; he couldn’t get his brother’s tortured screams out of his head.