Inhabited (35 page)

“Two for one,” the voice above him said. The statement was followed by another cackle.

They continued to rise.

Justin could hear an engine idling above him. He could hear a grinding motor that vibrated down the rope. The ground beneath him began to level off, but he didn’t let go of the rope. Kristin tugged at his legs again and then she climbed up beyond him.
 

She ran past the hunched man and his vehicle. Justin pushed up to his knees and climbed the rest of the way up the slope. He looked down at his bleeding hands and then met the eyes of the old man.

His silver beard was draped around his smiling mouth. His eyes were nearly lost in a million wrinkles. The old man pulled something from a back pocket and tossed it to Justin. It was a red rag. It looked clean enough. Justin dabbed it on his rope-burned palms.

“I suppose we better catch up to the lady before she falls into more trouble,” the old man said. He began to shuffle towards the driver’s door of his old truck. The truck was backed up to the sloped road. The man hit a switch on his way by and shut off the motor that had been winding the rope onto the reel.

The door creaked as the old man opened it.

“Are you coming?” he asked.
 

Justin didn’t even glance back. He ran for the passenger’s door.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The old man drove slowly and they gradually caught up to Kristin, who was running down the road.

“Who are you?” Justin asked.

“My name is Bertrand Ulrich,” the old man said. He held out his hand and then saw that Justin had the rag wrapped around his right hand. Bert withdrew his hand and cackled.

Justin’s brain immediately tried to place the name. When it did, he blurted out what he had read without thinking. “You killed Charles.”

A cloud passed over the old man’s jovial expression. He reached forward and shut off the radio with a click.
 

“You better talk to the lady,” Bert said as he pulled alongside Kristin.

Justin found the crank for the window.
 

“Kristin, get in.”

She looked at him with her crazy eyes. He noticed that her hair had been burned in the back. Her shirt was burned, too.
 

“Get in,” he said again. Justin turned to the old man. “Can you stop for a second?”

The truck skidded to a stop on the gravel road and Kristin kept running. Justin opened the door and realized that he didn’t want to get out. If he got out, the old man might drive away and they would be left to contend with the shadows again.
 

“Will you wait for me?” Justin asked the old man.

The sparkle had returned to his eyes, and the smile to his lips. Bert nodded.

Justin stepped down out of the truck and moved around the door. He began to jog after Kristin. His heart fell when he heard the truck drop into gear behind him. He knew what would happen next—the old man would speed past him, abandoning them once more.

He was wrong.
 

The truck kept pace, but didn’t overtake him as he chased after Kristin.

“Kristin!” he yelled.
 

She glanced back but kept moving.

“Kristin!”

She jogged on, towards the highway. Justin wasn’t able to match her speed and she gradually pulled away. Until she tripped, he was sure that she would run forever. Her spill didn’t look too bad, but it took her to the ground. When Justin caught up, she was on the ground, curled into a ball.

“Kristin?”
 

Justin reached down and touched her leg. She pulled away from his touch.

“Fuck you!” She flailed her arm in his direction. “Just leave me here. That’s what you’re going to do, so do it.”

“Kristin, I’m not leaving. Bert is waiting to give us a ride. We can get out of here now.”

“Why should we trust some dirty old man in the desert?” she asked. “Just go away.”

Justin tried to straighten back up, but his legs gave out. He fell back on his ass.

“Because I’ve been exactly where you are,” the old man said. He stepped in front of the headlights and cast his hunched shadow over them. “I sat on this very stretch of road and wept. It wasn’t tears of joy that were falling from my eyes—it was pure guilt. Why was I the one who made it out, and how could I have left all my friends? Hell, I killed my own cousin down in that wretched hell.”

“What are you talking about?” Kristin asked.
 

Justin was relieved to see that she was beginning to sit up.
 

The old man scratched his white beard before he continued. “I was a miner from ’91 to ’93. In three years it felt like I spent a lifetime down in that hole.”

“You can’t be that old,” Kristin said. She wiped her eyes with the back of one of her blackened hands. The motion left clean streaks in the soot on her face.

Bert cackled again. “I turned ninety-six last February, and with a little luck I’ll live to see ninety-seven. And after all those years, I was beginning to think that I would never repay the favor. But I made a promise, and I’ve been out here on June 1
st
every year since.”

“What promise?”

Bert nodded and cast his eyes over towards the rising sun. “There’s always one who stays behind, and always one that gets away. That’s what the man told me, and that’s what I’m telling you. I didn’t figure on two of you. I always have been extra lucky.”

“Can we go?” Justin asked. Rolling onto his knees, he pushed back up to his feet. He put out his hand and was surprised when Kristin took it. He helped her up.

“That’s a good idea,” Bert said. “It would be a shame if the ground opened up and took one of you back in.”

Justin and Kristin rushed back to the truck while the old man laughed.

-o-o-o-o-o-

He slowed as the truck neared the highway. They watched a car go by and Bert brought his truck to a stop.

“Now before I take you away from here, I need a promise,” Bert said.

Kristin and Justin looked at each other, and then turned their attention back to the old man.

“Someone else is going to need your help. I can’t say if one or both of you should come. Maybe you could take turns.” The thought brought a smile to Bert’s face for some reason. “But someone has to be out here for the next poor soul who tries to escape.”

“Escape what?” Kristin asked.

“The mine,” Justin whispered.

“No, I know
that
. I’m asking what the hell is down there. What killed our friends?”

Bert shook his head. His constant smile evaporated. “I can’t say. Something lives down there, and it feeds. It feeds off of the unlucky desert animals who stumble into one of the holes. Every now and again it has a feast of foolish men who venture underground. That patch of dirt is inhabited.”

Justin nodded his agreement.
 

Kristin glanced out the back window at the desert road. “Can we leave?”

“Not until you promise,” Bert said. “I helped you, and I’m not going to be around to help the next poor soul.”

Kristin looked down.
 

“I promise,” Justin said.
 

Kristin kept her eyes down. “Yeah. I promise.”

F
LORIDA
PULLED
ONE
LEG
from the shadows, but the blackness covering her lower leg stretched back, connecting her to the pool. Meanwhile, she sunk even more.

“Hey!” a voice called.

She looked up. A person was standing there, right on the edge of the asphalt. The form moved and something tumbled out of the darkness. Florida covered her head with her arms and the shadows pulled her down.
 

It was a thin white rope. Florida grabbed it and looped it around her hands. She tugged on it and greedily took up the slack as she started to climb.

“Hold on.” It was a man calling from above.
 

A second after he yelled, the rope began to jerk upwards. Florida stopped pulling and focused her effort on simply holding on. She looked down as she was dragged up the gravel. The shadows stretched and then receded. Her legs pulled free. They no longer looked covered in ink. Florida pumped her legs and got to her feet. Using the rope, she ran up the slope.

The man had a car parked on the edge of the asphalt.

He looked to be about her father’s age.

“Thank you. Oh my God, thank you so much,” she said. She shook the coils of rope from her hands and reached out to shake the man’s hand with both of hers. “You won’t believe what happened. We all went in there to do some experiments for my class, but I think they’re all gone.” She gestured behind herself and stopped to catch her breath.

“I know,” he said.

Florida stood straighter and took a slight step back.

“The thing in the mines—It digests,” the man said.
 

Florida took another step. The interior lights in the car came on. Florida saw a woman in there. She pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped out.

“You’re scaring her,” the woman said. “It’s okay. We’re here to help you.”

“I don’t know you,” Florida said. She knew it was a stupid thing to say, but it was what came out.

“I know,” the woman said. “Listen—I was you. I was right in the same position you’re in now. It was twenty years ago, but I was you. You don’t know us, but please, let us drive you out of here. You don’t have any other choice.”

Florida glanced back in the direction the mine. She’d seen no living sign of her group. The equipment was gone. Even the bus had disappeared.
 

She turned back to the woman. Her eyes were sad and kind. She looked at least as old as the man, and she looked like life had been a struggle for her. Most of all, she looked trustworthy.

“My partner,” Florida said, gesturing over her shoulder. “He’s still inside.”

The woman nodded. “It always keeps one, and it lets one go. In our case, it let two of us go.”

The man had already moved back to the driver’s door. He slipped inside and closed the door, leaving the woman to persuade Florida.

“Can we go get help?” Florida asked.

“Of course,” the woman said. She shook her head slightly as she said it. Somehow, even that was comforting. Florida knew that the woman was lying, but she was at least being honest about it.
 

“Okay,” Florida said.

The man backed the car around and pointed it towards the highway. Florida looked at the seat beside her. The white rope was coiled next to her. That simple piece of cotton had saved her life.

“Honestly,” the woman said, “we didn’t expect you. I found that rope in my garage and I brought it along at the last minute. Justin didn’t even think to bring one.”

The man interjected over his shoulder. He defended himself. “We talked about it, but we thought it would be years before we ran across anyone.”

“What are you talking about? Are you from the university?”

The woman shook her head. “No. We’re just keeping a promise.”

Florida saw the woman reach out and put her hand on the man’s shoulder. He nodded and slowed to a stop. Florida’s hands curled into fists. She had fought for her life plenty in the past twenty-four hours, and she was ready to do so again.

“You have to make a promise,” the woman said. She looked Florida in the eyes.

“What?”

“We saved your life, and someday there’s going to be someone who needs you to save theirs.”

“A poor soul,” the man whispered.

“That’s right,” the woman said. “Some poor soul is going to try to escape and they’re going to need your help. We helped you, so our job is done. It’s your turn now.” As she said the words, some of the sadness began to leave the woman’s eyes. She actually began to smile.

“I don’t get it,” Florida said. “What is this, some kind of joke?”

“No,” the woman said. She shook her head, but there was still the ghost of a smile on her lips.

R
OGER
WAS
A
CHILD
in the darkness. The world didn’t make any sense to him until Carlos showed him the way. He had to learn where to find water, where to shit, and the sorting places. Sorting was his job. His payment was the occasional mouthful of stolen meat. Carlos would eat anything—snake, scorpion, spider, or coyote. Roger was picky at first, but as the days turned into weeks, his standards sank into the subterranean depths.
 

He spent much of the time yelling. He yelled for help, and yelled against the injustice. He was convinced that someone would hear him eventually.
 

When Carlos got too close, or had the temerity to touch his shoulder or his arm, Roger attacked. Carlos was slippery in the dark. Before Roger could do any damage, the old man was gone. Eventually, he encountered Carlos less and less. Roger moved between the sorts, doing his work and claiming his reward. He would protest—refuse to work and sit sobbing in he darkness—but hunger would eventually propel him forward.

As sight became useless, Roger could feel his own brain reallocating resources to his other senses. The echo from a drip of water would give him a clear idea of his surroundings. The texture of the rocks would tell him where he was in the cave. Roger even started to understand how the caverns shifted and breathed. Nothing was static in the dark. Passages opened and closed. Everything moved in the living rock.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Roger woke from a dream of a picnic on a summer day. His eyes had been shut so long that his eyelids were crusted over. But the dream of the sun had been so happy that tears were running down his face. He forced his eyelids open for the first time in an age.

He saw light.
 

Roger crawled towards it, climbing the ledges up and up. The light was just the tiniest flicker in the distance. He moved in complete silence. His eyes had almost forgotten how to see.