The Unfortunates Page 14

  “Shh,” I whisper as I point to the ceiling.

  “Whoa,” she says, panning the flashlight over the scene. “Wait. Where’s Maria? She went first.”

  We turn our lights on the water. As soon as I see Maria surface, I blow out the candle and start getting everything ready to go, but something’s not right. Maria’s splashing around, grasping at Shy. She’s trying to say something, but she can’t find the air.

  “You have to calm her down,” I say, keeping an eye on the bats as they’re becoming increasingly more agitated.

  “Please, Maria, breathe. Slow down. I’m here. What is it?”

  “I … I felt something down there. I felt something pull my hair,” she says as she grabs onto Shy, holding her tight.

  “It probably just got snagged on the rocks. That’s all. We’re safe now, and look…” She points to the ceiling. “We found the bats. They’re going to lead us out of here.”

  Maria looks up, a weary smile easing over her blue lips. “Thank God,” she whispers. Clasping her hands under her chin, she starts to climb out of the pool—when she disappears under the water with a violent splash.

  Shy and I look at each other, confusion quickly turning to panic.

  I jump back in. Shy and I are frantically searching the water for any sign of her when Maria’s head pops back up.

  “Jesus, Maria.” Shy puts her hand to her chest. “What did you do, trip? You scared me.”

  But when Shy tries to help her up, there’s nothing but water where her body should be.

  With a shaky hand, Shy reaches out to touch a strand of Maria’s hair.

  Her head rolls toward us—completely severed—eyes wide open as if she’d just seen a monster.

  “Not again,” I say, the horror of what I’m seeing slowly spreads through my body, making my joints lock up.

  Shy staggers out of the water, her hands held up in front of her as if they’re covered in blood. “We have to go,” she murmurs. “We can’t stay here.”

  A splashing sound, coming from the left, seems to suck all the air from my lungs. “Who’s there?” I whisper.

  It whispers back. I can’t make out the words, but I can feel it coming toward me. Seeking me out.

  “Grant, please,” Shy says, tugging on my arm.

  I pull away, raising the flashlight. There’s a long, sinewy shadow lurking at the water’s edge, but I can’t figure out where it’s coming from.

  “We have to go,” she says, pulling harder.

  I’m leaning forward, desperate to see what it is, what kind of monster could’ve done this, when Shy yanks me out of the water. “If we stay here, we’ll die!”

  The shrill echo triggers the bats.

  As they take off en masse, the cacophony of screeches and beating wings swells to a feverish pitch.

  Grabbing the bag, we chase after them. The entire cavern trembles beneath our feet. I know it’s just the limestone collapsing in our wake, but it feels like the killer is breathing right down our necks.

  Playing with us.

  24

  WE follow the bats as long as we can, but they’re too fast.

  Or we’re too slow.

  I don’t know if it’s the shock or the cold, but it feels like we’re still moving under icy water.

  “Light,” Shy says, pulling me into a narrow crevice. “Do you see it?”

  At first I think it’s just our senses playing tricks on us, but as we get closer it’s undeniable … there’s something glowing up ahead.

  We pick up our pace. My heart’s beating so hard I’m afraid it might burst through my chest, but when I place my hand over it I can barely feel it pumping.

  “I think it might be moonlight,” she pants. “This is it. We’re going to make it.”

  As soon as we reach the cavern, I realize this is something else entirely.

  “I don’t understand,” Shy says, shining the flashlight over the long strands of strange blue lights dangling from the ceiling.

  I sink to the ground, staring up into the abyss, a sense of awe washing over me.

  “Venus lies star-struck in her wound

  And the sensual ruins make

  Seasons over the liquid world,

  White springs in the dark,” I murmur.

  “Grant, look at me.” Shy’s shaking my shoulders.

  “Dylan Thomas.”

  “Stop it. You’re scaring me,” she says, slapping me repeatedly on the cheek, but I hardly feel it. “You can’t give up.”

  I blink hard, the world slowly coming back into focus, the slight sting returning to my cheek. “They’re glowworms,” I whisper. “I’ve never seen one in real life, but I heard about a cave in Alabama that has a cavern like this. Definitely not in the Crystal Falls guidebook.”

  “So we have to keep going,” she says as she tries to pull me back up, but my legs won’t work anymore.

  “I don’t know if it’s real,” I say, taking in a slow, deep breath, “but I swear I can smell soil and clay. Damp leaves … and sunshine. If I close my eyes, it’s almost like I can feel it warming my skin.”

  “You’re not cold?” Shy asks.

  I think about it for a long time. Too long. “No.” I manage to shrug. “Are you?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe we’ve just gotten used to it down here,” I say, my eyelids getting heavy.

  “Or maybe we’re freezing to death,” she says as she digs through the pack. “Maria said that was the second phase of hypothermia.”

  “We should put on our clothes…”

  “It’s too late for that now.” Shy pulls out the heat bag. “Skin on skin. You said that was the quickest way.”

  “I was kind of kidding. We don’t have to do that. We can take turns.”

  “Don’t make me beg you to cuddle,” she says.

  I crack a weak smile.

  “Here, let’s get you in first,” she says as she puts my legs in the bag. “If I sit on your lap, facing you, we’ll both be able to keep a lookout.”

  As she settles on my lap, wrapping her legs around me, I’m thinking maybe this isn’t the worst way to go. They’ll find us someday, in one last final embrace. Write poems about us.

  “Is this okay?” she asks.

  “Normally, this would be the most exciting thing in the world.” I smile into her collarbone. “But unfortunately, I can’t feel anything.”

  Shy pulls the bag up around our shoulders and wraps her arms around me.

  We breathe into the bag, trapping the warm air inside. It takes awhile, but as soon as the shivering sets back in, so do the feelings.

  “Maria,” Shy whispers. I feel her scalding tears against my back.

  “I’m so sorry.” I hold her tighter. “I’m sorry this happened to you. To any of you. You don’t deserve this.”

  “But you think you do?” she asks softly.

  I let out a shuddering breath. “You wouldn’t even be down here if it wasn’t for me. I’m the one who caused all this. Do you ever think that maybe all of this was meant for me? That you just wandered into my bad karma? Wrong place. Wrong time. It’s all so unfair.”

  “Nothing’s fair. Take a look at your hand,” she says as she pulls mine forward. “Your fingers. They’re all different sizes. Some are crooked, some are straight. Nothing’s equal in this world.”

  I close my hand around hers and breathe into it. She still feels so cold.

  “They almost look like shooting stars,” she says as she looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe we should make a wish.”

  I try to look up, play along, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off Shy. “I wish we’d met sooner,” I say. “I wish when you were at that tree-lighting ceremony you would’ve come up to me and shook me and said, ‘Wake up, V.’”

  “Would you have heard me?” she says softly. “Would you have even seen me?”

  I brush a stray curl away from her neck. “How could I not see you?”

  “If we get out of here—”

 
; “When we get out of here,” I correct her.

  “I want you to promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  She leans back so she can look me straight in the eyes, the soft blue light creating this ethereal glow around her. “Don’t let their deaths be for nothing. Instead of turning all that guilt inward, let it out for the world to see. You owe that to Kit, Darryl, and Maria. You owe it to me.” She laces her fingers through mine, and I get goose bumps, but not because I’m cold. “I know why this happened now,” she says, resting her forehead against mine. “It’s because you and I were meant to meet, in one way or another. I believe everything happens for a reason, don’t you?”

  “I do now.”

  As I lean in to kiss her, I’ve never been so sure about something and so scared at the same time.

  The touch of her lips.

  The feel of her skin.

  There’s no nervous fumbling or awkward angles. It’s all soft and warm and deep. She presses even closer, and I feel like I might disappear into her. I’ve never felt so connected to anyone in my entire life. It doesn’t feel like a first kiss.

  Somehow, it feels like the last.

  And if we don’t find a way out of here soon, it very well could be.

  As she pulls away, I know exactly what she’s going to say. “It’s time,” she whispers.

  The last thing I want to do is separate from her, but I know she’s right. And I’d trade a million dark, dreamy kisses for one kiss under the sun, out in the open.

  25

  HAND in hand, we descend deeper into the cave. There are occasional faint squeaking noises, fluttering wings, but it’s impossible to tell how close they are. It could be twenty feet or a mile away, but all we have to do at this point is stay alive long enough to find them again.

  “So tell me,” Shy says. “What is it about poetry that you like so much?”

  It takes me aback. I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before. “Look, I’m sorry if I freaked you out. It’s just a thing I do when—”

  “No. It’s not that.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m just curious.”

  I take in a deep breath. “It’s hard to explain. I mean, they’re just words, right? Everyday words that we take for granted, but when you put them together with care and purpose, they can be transformed into something magical.”

  “I get that,” Shy says as she bites down gently on her bottom lip. “I guess that’s kind of how I feel about the truth.” She glances up at me. “The truth shall set you free, right?”

  I stare ahead at the darkness before us. “I haven’t felt free in a long time,” I say. “Maybe ever.”

  “You can change that,” she says as she pulls me to a stop.

  “I hope so. I hope I get that chance.” I meet her eyes, wishing she would kiss me again.

  “On a completely different subject,” she says with a sheepish smile, “I have to … you know.”

  “Now?” I ask. “But I think we’re getting really close.”

  “It’s all this dripping.” She laughs as she looks around for a private spot.

  “Seriously.” I let out a long sigh. “It’s funny how I thought it was soothing when I first got down here, but now it’s like Chinese water torture.”

  “This will work,” she says, pointing to a huge flowstone formation.

  She tries to let go of my hand, but I hang on. “You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you alone, even for a second.”

  “I can’t pee in front of you.”

  “Amateur,” I tease. “I can stand on the other side of this rock, but you have to hold my hand the entire time.”

  “This is so weird,” she says as she steps behind the stone and starts bouncing around, messing with her track pants.

  “Oh, I think we’re beyond weird at this point.”

  “Just keep talking,” she says. I can tell she’s uncomfortable by the way she’s breathing.

  “I got used to peeing in front of people,” I explain. “I had to do drug testing for three months, once a week. Mostly it was the same nurse. This guy, Benny. He had this tattoo on his wrist that—”

  There’s a weird ripping sound, followed by a gush of liquid.

  It makes me wince, but I try to make her feel better. “Please don’t be embarrassed. The water we’ve been drinking, it probably has a ton of microbes in it. That can really mess with your stomach. Not to mention all we’ve had to eat is little bits of astronaut food. That’s bound to turn anyone’s stomach sour.”

  But all I hear is dripping. It’s thundering in my ears.

  “Shy?”

  When she doesn’t reply, I look down at our hands. They’re still entwined, but there’s a trail of blood seeping down her arm, into the palm of my hand.

  I blink hard, hoping it’s just an illusion. The dark playing tricks on me again.

  But when I look around the corner I see that I’m holding her severed arm.

  “Shy?” I scream, swinging the flashlight around the cavern wildly.

  I catch a trail of blood glistening in the dark. It leads me deeper into the tunnel.

  “Please let this be a hallucination … Not her. Please, not her,” I say.

  When I stumble upon the rest of her body, I know it’s real.

  She’s curled up on the ground in the strangest position. Her eyes are wide and clear. It’s that same hollow look she always gets … that same expression I can never decipher.

  “Shy.” I lie down next to her and kiss her forehead, the one place that doesn’t look like it hurts. “Was it the monster?”

  She blinks, and I know she’s telling me yes.

  “Is he here now?”

  She blinks again.

  “I know I said I’d never hurt anyone again,” I say through trembling lips, “but I’m going to kill that thing.”

  She blinks again.

  “But first, I have to get you out of here.”

  She doesn’t blink this time.

  As I reach in to try and scoop her up, she grips onto me. Her lips are moving, but I don’t hear a sound. Leaning in close, I’m desperate to hear her voice, desperate to hear what she has to say.

  I press my ear to her lips, and the flashlight flickers once.

  Twice.

  A third time.

  Until it’s finally extinguished.

  “No.” I shake them both, as if I can bring them back to life. Tears are streaming down my face as I hug her to my chest, rocking back and forth, humming that Mozart melody, but I know she’s gone.

  I don’t know how long I stay frozen like this. Minutes. Hours. Days. I’ve lost sense of everything around me … who I am.

  It’s pitch black—so dark that I’m not even sure if I’m holding her anymore. I’m not even sure if I have arms anymore. I can hear my breath … hear the incessant dripping that’s become my constant companion … But there’s something else, a presence all around me, taunting me, as if it’s daring me to get up and face it.

  I have a choice. I can either cower in the dark, wait for it to take me, or I can stand up and kill it—or die trying. My father said this trip would make a man out of me.

  And he was right.

  “I know why you saved me for last,” I say as I grab the candle and matches from my bag. “You wanted me to suffer as much as humanly possible.” I rattle around the box of matches to find there’s only one left.

  I have to make this count.

  “So here I am,” I say as I strike the match.

  Phosphorous and charcoal flares in my nostrils.

  My hands are shaking, but I manage to light the wick.

  “I’m all alone now. Come and get me,” I whisper.

  As I stand and walk into the darkness, I weep not for myself but for the people I killed in that accident, for my family and friends that I left behind, for Kit, Darryl, Maria, and Shy.

  Just thinking about how they died, like they were nothing, makes me so enraged I feel like I could tear down the entire c
ave with my bare hands.

  “What are you waiting for,” I call out. “I’m right here.” I take another step and I hear something. The whisper swirling all around me, like a serpent waiting to strike.

  “Come and face me like a man,” I scream into the tunnel.

  The tunnel screams back.

  I rock back on my heels, trembling with fear. I’m not sure if it’s the monster or my own voice echoing back, but it registers in every molecule of my body. I’ve heard that sound before.

  Tires screeching across pavement. Metal, glass, asphalt colliding.

  And it’s coming right toward me.

  I brace myself for impact, facing it head-on.

  The whoosh of the incoming horror blows out the flame, and I know this is it. The moment of reckoning.

  The moment of truth.

  Exactly what I deserve.

  But it’s only the bats, barreling through the cavern, shooting over me, straight up into the heavens above.

  Staggering after them, I stare up to see a narrow chute, hazy shafts of light filtering through a thick veil of moss.

  I take in a gasping breath of air. It feels like a miracle, like this was their souls breaking free, showing me the way.

  Crawling after it, I claw my way toward the light. Every inch gained, I think of Shy and Maria, Darryl and Kit. They lost their lives on this journey, but I can still make things right.

  I lose my footing and skid down a few inches, but I manage to hang on. As much as my muscles are screaming at me to let go, I push past the fatigue, the cold, the numbness in my legs, and will my body to move. Grabbing onto roots and vines, I dig in my heels. Each step is harder than the last. My muscles are burning, my hands are blistering under the strain, but I keep going. I hear the monster behind me, right on my heels, breathing down my neck, but I don’t look back. I keep digging … reaching for higher ground … for everything they wanted their lives to be.

  And when my hand breaks through the surface and the light comes spilling in, I have to clench my eyes shut, because it hurts so much.

  “Over here!” someone hollers.