Reap (The Harvest Saga Book 1) (27 page)

About twenty minutes later, the sound of crunching echoed from just down the creek. “Just a bit further,” he yelled back, leading us down the creek in the direction from which he had just come. We walked along the creek bank for about five minutes and then came to a rocky cliff in the landscape. Enormous, jagged boulders, draped with bright green moss, dotted the valley along the creek’s edge. These megaliths loomed down even on the tallest member of their group.
Thwump!
Dad’s bag struck the ground.

“Home sweet home,” he said sarcastically. I searched around to find shelter anywhere. My gut wrenched when I saw the dark black void creeping out from under the rock face. How would we fit inside?
Oh, Crap. Surely, this isn’t our sanctuary
. “Don’t worry, Claire. Looks can be deceiving,” said Dad, with his lips upturned in an almost smile. Crouching down, he stiffly ducked and shifted his body down under the lip of the mountain. His voice emanating from the rock, “Come on. You’ve all gotta see this.”

I looked around at the others, shrugged my shoulders and stooped under the lip of the rock myself. The rock opened up into a large cavernous room. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and took in the majesty of the vaulted space. Limestone. All caves around here were carved by millions of years of eroding water, not fast and powerful, but patient and diligent in its task.

Trickling water caught my attention in the damp, darkness. The stream from outside entered into the cave and continued its path deep into the abyss. The sound of the water echoed all around me, filling my ears with its serene notes. The others apparently brought in all of the bags because mine ended up next to my feet somehow and I sure hadn’t placed it there. “There’s much more to see,” laughed my father. He grinned at me, and I saw hope in his expression. Hope that I would find this shelter suitable. Hope that we would all be safe here.

Reaching into a red backpack, he pulled out flashlights for each of us. The cool humidity flooded my nose as he led us down a narrow pathway, deeper into the cave.
Our new home.
The pathway curved back and forth, weaving its way into the mountain, revealing room after room, beautifully adorned with rugged formations of the dripping minerals that flowed from the Earth itself. Dad had been preparing this place for quite a while.
How long?

Wrought iron sconces with new white candles lined the rocky pathway that gently curved along with the small stream. The flashlight beam stretched out in front of us illuminating a fairly large opening, jars and cans of various food and jugs and bottles of drinking water stared back at us—the front supply room, he called it. How long would these provisions last and what we would do when they were gone?

Traversing deeper into the cave, my flashlight beam shook at the sight of small furry brown bats that clung to the wall, tucked and asleep, occasionally stretching or writhing to implore the light to extinguish itself. In one crevice to my right, the wall of the cave became fluid as the bugs and spiders writhed and scaled, one on top of another, moving in every direction, their legs and antennae twitching. Goosebumps spread up my arms. The cave opened up into a enormous towering room whose ceiling was strewn with dripping amber formations that defied gravity itself.

Spaced carefully apart, were several mattresses each with a folded blanket and pillow neatly piled on top of it. Sconces clung to the cave wall over each waiting to provide light to its claimant. Paths emerged and snaked through the terrain in different directions. Getting lost in this labyrinth would be easy. Everyone was silent as we delved deeper into the earth through stone-scattered, winding paths.
Crap!
I tripped over a rock and crashed into the cool water, my shoes filling up. Would it be possible for the stream to flood the cave?

“Can I ask a question, John?” Trish asked, her tiny voice amplified by the hollow acoustics.

“Of course,” my father answered. We encircled the two, both to listen to her concern and hear his answer.

“There appear to be more mattresses than people present” she stated as a question.

“Well…” he paused, “two other families will be joining us. They’re traveling here today as well, but will use a different manner of travel and will come from a different direction. We thought it best to split up, number one because there wouldn’t be enough room in my truck’s hidden compartment, and number two because if any government agents or guards caught up with one group, the other might be able continue to safety,” said Dad. How carefully he planned for our escape. His meticulous attention to detail impressed me, as at home he seemed to barely even notice me at times. My father continued, “Michael is aware of this as well. We thought it necessary to keep it secret until we all were able to meet here at the cave together in case someone was captured. If no one knows the secret location, no one can give it away.”

“I see,” Trish said, raising one eyebrow to her husband and cocking her head to one side.

“The last thing I want to show you is as deep into the cave as we’ll be able to go—and what may be the most important room in this place, at times, at least,” said Dad with a wry smile. Passing more storage areas loaded with garden tools, more food and water provisions, fishing poles, bows and arrows, and guns, we finally came to a small room where the stream became quite wide.

“This,” he said, “is the bathtub.” We followed him a bit further into another small room. The stream in this room got smaller, but the water ran faster and then disappeared down a hole into some deeper place. “This is the toilet facility—at least while we’re in the cave,” he said. “Eventually, when things calm down, we should be able to move more freely outside, especially at night. The caves are constantly cool and damp. The temperature never goes above or below 55-60 degrees, so sweaters or jackets should suffice year round as long as we’re in here. I’m sure we’ll all grow accustomed to the environment very soon,” he said.
I highly doubt that.

After surveying the “facilities,” Ethan and Helen followed their mother back out of the room and I assumed they were heading back toward the entrance of the cave. That journey would take a while, as we were very deep into the cave.

“Hold on a minute,” said Dad. Trish, Ethan and Helen returned. “Please don’t forget to use your flashlights in the cave or a candle, at least. It is extremely dark and there is
no
way to find your way out without a light source. I’ve been in here a lot so I know my way around in the dark, but it can be disorienting at first. Turn your flashlights off,” he instructed. Click.

The light faded from my flashlight’s filament as the others followed suit. In a few seconds, all lights were off and we were standing in the middle of the Earth in complete and total darkness. Obsidian. Funny how moments can define your innermost feelings—cold and empty and dark. Three years ago, I would never have imagined that I would end up in this hole.

Everyone turned their lights back on and chattered about the darkness absolute. So consuming, it encompassed you entirely and squeezed the breath from your lungs. Without light, I felt claustrophobic and trapped and yet was in a spacious room. I made up my mind to never be without some sort of light—just in case.

I hated that feeling. It was truly miserable. And, I imagined it would be difficult, if not impossible for one to navigate the narrow, rocky paths in complete darkness. The acoustics made even simple sounds echo as if to seem they were coming from every direction, all around you. It was truly disorienting to say the least. It was as if the cave were a large beast, swallowing you whole, leaving you to hear the gargling of its hollow stomach while you were still lucid.

Trish, Helen and Ethan again turned and began their journey back to the main room. I followed. Michael and my father walked slowly behind me and began to discuss the arrival of the other families. No doubt they would be friends and members of the Church, but who? I wondered. I overheard Michael tell Dad that they would arrive close to dusk if all went well.
Four or five

more hours,
I thought. I didn’t ask questions on the way back to the front of the cave. I just listened and hoped they would reveal some hint as to who was coming. They didn’t. I would have to wait and see like everyone else. Hopefully, they would make it.

Back at entrance of the cave, Dad announced, “you can go claim any room you like. Just be sure to take your flashlights. We’ll deal with the candles later.” Helen and Ethan wasted no time in grabbing their bags and lights and setting off into the darkness. They disappeared quickly. I hoped I would, too. Grabbing my duffel, I headed off behind them as well. Dad would probably wait until the other families arrived and let them choose their spaces first. He was a true gentleman and I’d always admired that personality trait.

Ethan and Helen began to explore the “rooms” in the first large section of the cave toward the entrance. I decided to adventure to the deeper portion of the caves and take a room there. I liked the limestone formations there. The stalactites and stalagmites met one another in large, cascading columns throughout one portion of this area. There was a mattress in a little alcove nearby where I would have a perfect view of them. I decided to stake claim to this piece of cave, threw my bag down and flopped down on the mattress beside it.

I tried to remember Mom’s face. She died when I was sixteen. I missed her terribly. Dad was great, but Mom and I just had a connection. It was special. We could complete one another’s sentences and would laugh hysterically at the same stupid things. Dad would just smile at us and roll his eyes. We were happy. We were happy even after she got sick.

When I was fourteen when she had a cancerous mole removed and underwent chemotherapy and radiation and was told she was free of cancer at that point. The next year, she felt a lump in her right armpit. She saw her oncologist about it and was told that her melanoma had returned, and with a vengeance. She fought hard to stay alive and underwent extensive radiation and chemo treatments again, but some things couldn’t be fought against. My biggest fear was forgetting what she looked like.

She was always bright and glowing and vibrant. Her hair was dark blonde, the exact same color that mine was now. Her eyes were crystal blue and sparkled even when she was mad. There was always a spark about her. She lit up a room, regardless of who else occupied it. She had beautiful, naturally-red lips. I always wished my lips would look like hers. She didn’t even need lipstick.

She said the strangest thing to me before she died. It was like she had been given a glimpse into the future in which I now lived. She was in bed with her quilts pulled up around her neck. I was sitting beside her rambling on about my day at school. She grabbed my hand and said, “Claire, a lot of bad things are going to happen very soon in this world. Listen to your father and follow him without question. It is really important that you do exactly as your father says. He will take care of you and make sure you are safe.”

Of course, at that point, I had no idea what she was talking about and assumed that she didn’t have long at that point. I agreed to appease her, smiling and blinking back tears. My heart was torn out after she passed away. She had been my other half, my best friend and sometimes my only ally in this world. I felt that she understood me on a deeper level than any other human being on the planet. When she died, I felt empty and alone. Much the same as the feeling I got in this stupid cave when we all turned our lights out earlier.

I quickly snapped back into reality, as I heard some footsteps coming toward me. I could tell there was more than one person coming toward me. I saw two lights emerge from the darkness. Helen and Ethan’s faces emerged from the shadows.

“Our rooms are in the big space near the cave entrance,” she said excitedly. I couldn’t believe she was actually excited to be here. “Great,” I said. “You chose this one, so deep in the cave. Why?” she asked perkily. Ethan just stood behind her, quietly looking around with his flashlight.

“Yeah,” I said, “I like the cave formations in here. Plus, someone else might want to be closer to the entrance.”

“Can I look around?” she asked excitedly.

“Sure,” I answered. Helen started walking toward the other side of the cave and crossed the stream beginning her exploration. Ethan stood still and kept his light on Helen as she walked around looking in every crevice. He seemed quietly protective of Helen. I guess because this was quite a change and adjustment for her, as it was for us all. Keeping her in his line of sight, Ethan said, “Your father wanted me to warn you that a thunderstorm is rolling in and to watch the level of the stream. If it rises, you should really make your way toward the cave entrance to be safe. He said it can rise quickly with enough rainfall.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep my eye on it,” I replied. Then, without saying another word, he started off in Helen’s direction, looking around the cave himself. He paused for a moment at the area of my favorite formation, where the cave formed draperies that cascaded from the ceiling. I wondered if he found it to be as beautiful as I did. They continued until out of my sight. I hadn’t yet taken the time to explore the cave and wasn’t sure how long its winding pathways and rooms extended. It must have been quite extensive because their footsteps faded and then were gone and I didn’t see them again for quite a while.

While a part of me wanted to explore the cave as well, another didn’t want any part of it at all. Heat surged through my face and I clenched my teeth. I was livid that it had all come down to this—my family and our closest friends, cowering in a hole.