• The HoleA serial novel of supernatural apocalypse.
  • Karaoke QuintessenceA serial novel of occult crime and mystery.
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Aaron Ross Powell

Posted on September 24, 2007

Part 38

The Hole

The passageway was narrow, the walls jagged. Elliot and Evajean moved slowly, Elliot in front, feeling with hands pressed out on opposite walls, head low. The pace was terrible on Elliot’s legs, his muscles not used to this kind of work, and he knew they’d have to stop frequently or the burning in his legs would force them to quit.

For a while, he’d anxiously strained his ears for some sound from behind, an indication that either Jeffy’s people or the crazies had found the entrance to this side shaft and were after them. But he could only hear Evajean’s breathing and his own. They’d managed to escape, though where to was an open question.

The two had gone for some distance further when, behind him and faint, Evajean said, “Something’s wrong.”

“What?” Elliot said, stopping. The tunnel here was four feet from side to side and close to five high. They’d just gone through a narrower stretch, however, and his chest felt tight from claustrophobic nervousness. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” He couldn’t see her but she was close enough that he could feel the electric fuzz of proximity. “I’m just…” she said, pausing to swallow. “I’m dizzy.”

“Do you want to stop? We can rest here. I don’t think anyone’s coming after us.”

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”

Elliot sat down and leaned against the tunnel wall. What time was it? he wondered. How long had they been crawling through the passage away from that terrible chamber? Twenty minutes or a half an hour was the best he could figure, but panic had driven him early on, so it was impossible to know. And then there was the nagging idea that this passage might go nowhere, that he and Evajean would die lost under the Appalachians.

He said to Evajean, “You might just need water.”

“I know,” she said.

“It’s been, I don’t know, a couple hours since either of us drank anything and our bodies have been pretty stressed.”

“I know.”

“Are you okay?”

“No.” She breathed heavily. “I feel sick. My head feels huge.”

“You’re just thirsty.”

“No,” she said.

“That’s what it is,” Elliot said, because he was thirsty, too. “Once we get out of here, we’ll find water.”

Evajean groaned and said, “Okay, yeah. Sure.” She wasn’t paying attention to him.

“You could stay here,” Elliot offered, “and I can go on ahead, see if there’s a way out.”

“Okay,” she said. Then, “No.”

“No?”

“You’ll get lost. You won’t be able to come back and find me.”

“I can–”

“No,” she said, “I’ll come with you. I’m okay, I’m just sick. It’s stress, like you said.” Elliot heard her push away from the wall and crawl in his direction. “Let’s go.”

They progressed a while more–slower, though, because Evajean was having an increasingly hard time. She kept saying “ow” under her breath, like a meditative chant, and the sound of it in repetition made Elliot feel deeply strange–stiff and tired, with the sound of blood rushing in his ears, a kind of forced meditative state. He wanted out and could only tell himself that continuing along the passageway was the best way to do that. They sure as hell couldn’t go back the way they’d come.

He was very near to losing it entirely when the tunnel finally opened out into another large room, apparent only by a sudden freshness of the air and a loss of the feeling of pressure from the close stone.

“Hey,” Elliot called back to Evajean. “I think we’re okay. Can you smell that?”

“It smells like outside,” she said, her voice less wilted than before. “I wish we could see.”

“I’m going to try to stay along the wall. See if there’s another passage that’ll take us back to the surface.”

“Good. I’ll rest, for just a minute.”

Elliot stood up and put his palm against the wall. If only they had a flashlight or a lighter, anything to cast even the slightest illumination, the effort wouldn’t feel so dangerously futile. He’d seen movies about people lost in caves and they always ended badly. He made his way out and along the wall, careful to move slow and feel in front of his face with his free hand. Walking into an overhang or protrusion would be a terrible cap to the day.

“You still there?” he said.

“Yeah,” Evajean said, “I’m here. But, Elliot? I really feel sick. Do you want to–”

“I’ll go just once around this, see what I can find. If there’s a way out like I said, we can get you up to the surface and get some water or some food. You’ll feel better.”

“Right,” Evajean said. “Okay.”

Elliot had gone a ways, he didn’t know how far, when two things happened. First, Evajean began moaning, very near screaming, and he came away from the wall, running to her without thinking. Second, from behind him and to the right, low, yellow light blinked faintly, on and then quickly off. Knowing he shouldn’t, he ignored it and stumbled his way to Evajean, his outstretched hand finding her leg. “What’s wrong?” he said, but she was kicking and he had to back away. “Evajean!”

She moaned and then coughed. He wanted to grab her, to pull her close and make this all stop, but she was trashing too hard and he couldn’t risk getting knocked into something hard and sharp. If that happened, they’d very likely both die in this cave.

“Evajean!” he said again, “What’s happening? What’s–” And then he heard it. He didn’t want to, hating that he did, but there it was, sliding into her voice as she called out in pain. The gibbering. The mumbling, babbling talk of the crazies. Of course that’s what it was, because he’d heard it so many times in the past, and there was no way now to rejected what he was experiencing.

Evajean was sick.

He threw himself down on her, pinning her twisting arms and legs. She was so small and she gave up quickly, her calls dropping to whispers, her body limp under his. And Elliot stayed there, unable to get up and address what had just occurred. Evajean was it. The only thing left for him in this goddamn world. She wasn’t sick. Neither of them was sick. That sort of shit doesn’t happen, he wasn’t going to let it happen. Because Uncle Jeffry and those real crazy people, those fanatics who’d done this to him and to Evajean, those fundamentalists were all healthy and fine and the world just wasn’t an evil enough place to let them live on while Evajean went mad.

“It’s okay,” he said, trying to calm her down, trying to get her to just stop. “You’re okay. Please. You’re okay.” He ran his hand across her hair. He pulled her up, making her sit, but she wouldn’t stay and he lowered her back to the floor. He couldn’t see her face. The now remembered yellow glow was gone. He wanted to see her face for other signs of the madness, because it was possible, just possible…

“Evajean,” he said. “I want you to stand up.” He waited, but she didn’t move her legs, only lay against him, twitching and whispering. “I’m going to have to leave you here,” he went on. “I have to see where that light came from. It might be a way out.” He was talking to her calmly, measured and even. “Okay,” he said. “Please just stay here.”

Elliot let go of her and stood up. He didn’t know which direction the light had come from, only that it was away from Evajean. If it was from a side passage, he ought to be able to find it by feeling along the wall as before. He set out, carefully, while Evajean muttered quietly in tongues.

If you like this, you might want to check out these posts, too.

  • Part 39
  • Part 41
  • Karaoke Quintessence: Chapter 11: Dead Flesh
  • The Hole: Part 66
  • Part 37

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  • Thomas

    The "waits" in between chapters is killing me! But I love the story, keep up the good work

  • jase

    I like this story - please keep it going
    its taking a while but its entertaining


    Jase

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