The Breeders Series: The Complete Box Set Page 44

  I shake my head. We don't give up. Not ever.

  We stumble into the unlit hallway leading to the hole. No exits. The only thing here is the deep dark crevasse.

  “We have to go down,” I sputter, wishing I could think of anything else.

  “Go down?” Ethan slips out of Clay's arms and drops to the ground. He points to the dark, yawning hole. “Go down there?”

  “Riley, no.” Clay shakes his head. He opens up the revolver and examines his bullets like if he looked harder there'd be more than four.

  Footsteps pound behind us. They're coming. This time they have guns.

  “Go,” I say, shoving them forward. “Go!”

  They stumble to the incline. I take the lead and slip down the dark spiral, one hand on the wall to keep me from falling. Behind me, their shuffling steps let me know they've followed.

  “This way,” I say over my shoulder, trying to keep the terror out of my voice. The truth is my heart's doing jumping jacks in my chest. I hate this hole. Sensations from the last time trail over my skin: rancid breath on my face, wispy hair on my shoulder. Whatever lived down here saved me, but the fear still clings to my skin. I fight my panic and keep my feet moving forward. One hand on the rough stone, I walk down the circular incline for what feels like forever. Each step is terrifying in the dark. I keep picturing myself falling off the incline and dropping to my death.

  My foot strikes something and I stumble, my hands skidding over the concrete. When I sit up, there's an ache in my shoulder, but I think I've reach the bottom. I stand, hold my hand out and call to them. “This way.” A hand fumbles into mine and a yelp escapes whoever just bumped into me.

  “It's me,” I whisper. “Rayburn?”

  “Yeah,” he says, his body pressing close in the dark. Then he rocks forward and there's an umph behind him. “We're stopping,” he says to those behind him.

  “Riley?” It's Mama. She sounds scared.

  “Yeah. I'm here. Is everyone okay?”

  Four yeses echo in the dark.

  “So, what's the plan?” It's Clay's voice. His hand fumbles for me and then slips around my arm.

  “I don't know.” I try to pick out any shape in the blackness and come up empty.

  “You down there!” a voice calls from above.

  I jump. Clay's hand twitches on my arm.

  The voice above echoes down. “We're posting guards! If you come up, we'll shoot. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay down there and starve to death.”

  I squeeze Clay's hand to tell him not to bother to answer. Nothing we say will make a difference. They're not coming after us. It's great news and yet, somehow I don't get it.

  “Why wouldn't they just run down and kill us?” I whisper.

  “Maybe they don't have guns after all,” Clay muses.

  “Or m-m-maybe there's monsters in here that will, uh, eat us and save them the t-t-trouble.” Rayburn's voice shakes.

  “That's enough of that.” It's Mama's voice. “There's no such thing as monsters.”

  I think of whatever freed me and say nothing. Better not to scare them yet. First, we need light. “Anyone hiding a flashlight in their pocket?” I ask.

  “Anyone have m-m-matches? A lighter?” Rayburn asks.

  Matches! I dig out the matchbook and find the little green Bible in my pocket beside them. I pull the book and the matches out. “Hold this,” I say to Clay, pressing the book into his palms. “Open it to the middle and hold it out for me.” He does as I ask. Then I pull a match out and strike it, holding my breath.

  There's a hiss. A little orange flame dances on the end of my match, barely lighting the thick darkness. It's enough to see Clay and the Bible cupped in his palm. I set the little match tenderly on the pages.

  “I'm sorry,” I whisper. Who am I apologizing to? The book? The gods that supposedly inhabit it? The Messiah whose blood has dried on my face?

  The little book catches flame, the first pages coiling and crinkling. Clay looks at me with wide eyes.

  “Set the book on the ground,” I say. “We need to look around before the flame goes out. Anything else to burn?”

  Rayburn offers his T-shirt and it gives us a little more time. We shuffle outward, circling the walls of the crevasse. The stone is rough and useless. I find the spot where I was chained and skirt around it, the fear creeping up my neck. A child's shoe is overturned in one corner and it reminds me of Mage. How is she doing with her dad's death? Will I see her again? I drop the shoe into the flame. Clay produces a very old newspaper, which burns up, smelling foul. Ethan runs up triumphantly, a huge smile on his face. In his hands he holds a lantern.

  I reach for him. “Where did you find this?”

  “Hanging on the wall over there.” He points.

  “Just hanging there?” It's a little electric lantern like the one I used when I came down after Clay. I look down at the black toggle switch on the front. “They must store one down here for emergencies.”

  Ethan nods, his face beaming.

  “Don't get too excited. It might not have batteries,” I say. When I flick the switch from off to on, a beam of yellow light joins the orange of the sputtering fire. I kiss Ethan on his head and swing the light around the cave.

  The walls are mostly gray rock. There are large cracks that zigzag up to the surface. Boulders lie in the corners as if this hole was forged by an earthquake or a sinkhole. As I aim my little light forward, a dark tunnel leads out toward the lake where the men took Clay. Even though that water is likely poisoned and will make us crazy, it is our best bet for finding whoever is down here. Whoever lives down here will know if there's another way out. And if not, they might be willing to help us fight against our common enemy.

  “So, we go on then,” Clay says, half statement, half question. He sidles up to me, close enough to feel the heat of his body. I put my hand on his arm.

  “We go on,” I say, sounding less sure than I'd like. My brother takes my hand. Rayburn and Mama slide up beside us and stare at the pitch-black tunnel. “I'm looking for someone who lives down here. He might be able to help us find a way out.”

  They stare at me. “Someone lives down here?” Rayburn and Clay ask at the same time. Clay's hand floats down to the revolver tucked in the top of his pants.

  I shrug. “Think so. When that bastard Andrew locked me down here, someone came and freed me. He was a little…crazy, but maybe he can help.”

  “These caverns could go on forever,” Mama says, tightening her grip on Ethan. “How do you know we'll be able to find him?”

  I shrug. “He needs water, right?”

  Rayburn's brow furrows. “If there were other, uh, other exits, wouldn't he have used them?”

  “Maybe,” I say. “But, it's worth a shot. We don't got a lot of options.”

  Clay nods, pulling out the revolver. “Doubt he got any firepower.” With his revolver in his hand, Clay's face settles into his battle-hardened stare. It's amazing how much that comforts me.

  “What's down there?” Ethan whispers, pointing into the blackness.

  “A lake.” Clay flashes me a look, but doesn't say how the water turns you into a drugged lunatic or that it slowly kills you from the inside out. What'll we do if we can't find clean water? We'll have to drink eventually.

  “How far is it?” Mama asks. Her face looks sunken and pale.

  “Not far.” I reach up to pat her arm. Voices sound from above. I can't tell if they're coming closer. “Let's go before they decide to finish us.”

  We shuffle slowly ahead, bodies touching. None of us wants to be the one who slips off into the darkness alone. The little light illuminates the path a few feet ahead. Darkness, thick and heavy as cowhide, lurks beyond the reach of my lantern, making my insides turn loops. Maybe there are other creatures trapped down here that aren't as friendly as the one who freed me. Maybe they're all mad. I picture arms reaching out of the darkness.

  “You okay?” Clay whispers in my ear. His hand presses
on the small of my back.

  “Stay close.” I pull even tighter to my family.

  “I don't get it,” Clay says, his voice echoing slightly in the cave.

  “Get what?” I ask.

  “The Messiah pulled that trigger. Not me. His finger jammed mine down. I felt it.” He turns confused eyes to mine. “Why'd he kill himself?”

  “Maybe he knew he was gonna die. You saw the sores all over his body. Flesh peeling off.” I think of the Messiah's sore-covered skin showing through his wet robe.

  Clay shakes his head. “With what they did for yer ma,” he nods back to Mama, “you'd think they could do something for their beloved prophet.”

  “Maybe he was sacrificing himself t-t-to the Gods.” Rayburn’s voice travels up to us.

  I look over my shoulder at him. “He put a bullet in his brain-pan to appease his Gods? I thought he was going to kill everyone else to do that.”

  Rayburn shrugs his hunched shoulders. “The most important story in Christianity t-t-tells of Jesus sacrificing himself on the cross for the sins of, uh, mankind. The Messiah dressed like Jesus. He clearly read his book.” I think of the little green Bible we burned. Rayburn continues. “Maybe he thought if he k-k-killed himself, the Gods would spare everyone else.”

  Clay snorts. “Or maybe he was baked in the brain from one too many cups of crazy juice.”

  I mull this over, remembering the look of sadness on the Messiah's face when he gripped my arm in the hallway and asked the Gods to take this cup from him. Was he acting out Jesus's last days? It makes his death much more heroic.

  I turn to Rayburn. The lamplight shines off his glasses as he trudges behind me. “Never knew you were religious, Rayburn.”

  His mouth quirks up. “We covered religions in school.” He shrugs. “Among other things.”

  “Huh,” I ask, stepping over a large rock.

  “I grew up in the hospital. I was born there. A dud, actually. I was supposed to be a girl.” He blushes. “All I ever wanted was to be a doctor. Prove I could be useful. When I f-f-finally finished school and learned what they were really doing… I guess being a doctor wasn't, uh, wasn't exactly what I thought it would be.”

  I picture a little Rayburn running around the hospital, the nannies chasing him for a bath.

  “We learn something new about you every day,” Mama says to him, smiling.

  He grins, the first in a long time.

  Up ahead I hear the trickle of water.

  “Lake's this way,” Clay says, taking the lantern from me and striding a bit faster.

  Clay, Ethan, and Rayburn walk ahead a little, but I hang back with Mama. I offer her my arm and she takes it.

  “You doing okay?” I ask, trying to keep inside the Clay's lantern light. I can barely see Mama's face in the dark.

  She leans hard on my arm. “I'm…fine.”

  I shake my head, my heart calcifying. “You never tell me the truth, do you?”

  A sad smile touches her lips as she looks at me and presses her palm to my cheek. “When you have children, you'll understand. You'll do anything for them. Give your life if need be.”

  “Don't talk like that.” Thinking about what may be happening inside her makes my own insides twist. I can't stand to see her pain.

  We walk in silence. The sound of trickling water grows louder as many little streams flow toward the underground lake. Ahead, Ethan hoots at the sight of it, his voice echoing around the cavern. Clay shushes him.

  We catch up and stand next to the boys, the lake at our feet. I had forgotten how the cave opens up here, a three-story ceiling dripping with cones of rock that dangle above like fangs. The lantern light dances on the surface of the water. Ethan steps toward the lake and leans down to touch it.

  “No!” I say, grabbing him.

  He shoots me a confused look as I drag him away. “What? I'm thirsty.”

  “This water isn't…” I look at Clay. He frowns. “This water might not be clean.”

  “Not clean?” Ethan says, stepping carefully toward the shore. “What's wrong with it?”

  Clay clears his throat. “The Messiah's men brung me down here during their little induction ceremony. We drank this water.” He nods toward the lake, his eyes growing hard. “After a while, I felt real strange: dizzy and not…right in the head. It made me feel like I could do anything. Then I…” He looks at me. “I don't remember what happened that night.”

  I nod, not wanting to remember his rough hands on me, dragging off my clothes.

  Rayburn peers around. “We'll need water soon. If there's not another source, we'll be forced to go back up the way we came down.”

  Everyone frowns. I shake my head. “Let's find the guy who helped me and make a plan from there.” I survey the water, thinking. There's so many caverns. So many dark passageways. Well, the only way to begin is by beginning, as Auntie would say. “Okay, so we'll walk around the lake in two groups.”

  Clay swings the lantern, making the light waver. “We only got one light.”

  I point to the torches on the walls. “We can light those.” I hand him what’s left of the matches.

  “So, me, Mama, and Ethan will go this way,” I point to the left, “and Rayburn and Clay will go right.”

  Clay frowns. “Don't like it. Rayburn should go with you. Me and little man can stick together.” He smiles at Ethan. “Right, little man?”

  “Yeah!” Ethan says, jumping out of Mama's arms. He latches onto Clay's intact hand. “Let's go.”

  I purse my lips, but say nothing. Too late to ruin their fun. I turn to Mama. “You ready?” She nods reluctantly, her eyes searching the dark corners.

  Clay and Ethan march off, the torch painting their path with its dancing orange flame. Rayburn, Mama and I head the other way, our lantern throwing steady yellow beams onto the rock walls. Even though I've put on a good front for my family, my heart patters. The rancid creature's breath still seems to cling to me, although it was hours ago. What'll he look like? I picture dripping skin, pocked flesh, rotting eyes. Stop, I tell myself. Imagination has to be worse than reality.

  We reach the halfway point around the lake and I shoot a look back at the boys. The torchlight disappears around a corner. They must've found another cavern. I hope they don't go too fa—

  A scream tears across the lake. Mama, Rayburn, and I exchange terrified looks and turn toward the sound.

  Two gunshots crack through the cave. Clay's gun. My boys are in trouble.

  Chapter 21

  Why would he fire? Clay knows how precious bullets are. He would only shoot if they were in danger. Danger. The word sparks in my head like a match. I sprint over the rocks, my lungs burning.

  I tear around the lake toward the boys. Rayburn straggles at my heels. Mama is somewhere behind.

  Another scream. It’s Ethan’s. Then a moan. I hurdle a small rock, a prayer on my lips. Please, God. Please.

  Two forms explode out into the main cave. Clay with Ethan on his hip. Clay runs with his loping stride, Ethan clinging to his neck. Terror is plastered on their faces. Clay waves me back, the revolver still clutched in his hand.

  “Run!” he yells. “They're coming!”

  “Who's coming?” I shout, skidding to a stop, rocks flying.

  He doesn't have to answer. Grotesque, mangled creatures lurch out of the darkness. Their skin is pocked with weeping red sores. Their hairless heads and wide, sightless eyes make them look like…like walking dead. The one in front has a raw stub where her hand should be. Another behind her is naked, her sagging breasts, pale and puckered in the torchlight, the only indication of her gender. Two, three, four of these monsters straggle out, hands reaching, slack mouths moaning awful. More appear behind, just as grotesque, just as angry. How many are there?

  “Holy shit!” Rayburn yells behind me. He turns to run.

  Terror bursts through my body. I turn and run. How can we get away? Where will we go?

  Rayburn and I sprint around the lake, Clay trai
ling behind with Ethan still in his arms. The moaning echoes through the cavern until it sounds like they're everywhere.

  “Are they…z-zombies?” I yell through panted breaths.

  Beside me in the dark, Rayburn shakes head. “No such thing. The water…”

  I shoot a glance over my shoulder as we run along the lake shore. They're slower than us, held back by their deteriorating limbs, but they're determined. One growls at me when its eyes lock with mine. Its teeth look like fangs. There's at least a dozen of them. They must've been hiding when we came in, hoping we'd go away. They aren't hoping for that any more. Now they want to kill us. On my count Clay has three bullets. And these monsters have nothing to lose.

  “Why're they so angry?” I ask through ragged breath.

  “Killed one.” Clay looks back, shudders and keeps running. “Pissed 'em off.”

  “You shot one?” My boot splashes into a wet puddle, spraying water up my leg.

  Clay nods. “They came right at us. What was I supposed to do?”

  We reach Mama, who's standing at the lake's edge, terrified. “What are they?!” she asks, grabbing my arm.

  I look at the mob. They sneer at us from across the lake and keep coming. One decrepit woman splashes through the water, cloudy eyes wide with anger. She gnashes her remaining teeth.

  Clay raises his revolver, aims, and squeezes the trigger. I cup my ears. Across the lake, the first creature falls. The others pause for a moment and stare at the downed body. Then they turn and lurch at us again, mouths curled in awful sneers. Clay raises his gun.

  “Don't!” I say, tugging down his arm. “You only have two bullets and all you're doing is pissing 'em off!”

  He whirls on me, his eyes wide. “What d'you suggest? Stand here and die?!”

  I shake my head, looking around. These monsters can't be very bright. In front of us, a tunnel winds away from the lake. “Come on,” I say, grabbing Mama's hand.