Hide (Book Two, the Hunted) Page 4

  They are still afraid but the sobbing has stopped and Reid takes that as a victory. As a group they turn and jog down the tunnel while the cry of the hunters drifts around them.

  ***

  Chapter Five

  For the first time in a while the tunnel doesn’t branch, just continues on and on. Every time they run past a light bulb Reid has a moment of fear. All it would take for the hunters to win would be for them to shut off the power. Then either the black creatures Reid is sure are connected to the experiment or the hunters themselves would be able to sweep in and clean them up.

  But the lights continue to burn and they keep running.

  The tunnel has a constant mild curve to the right, making it impossible to see more than one bulb ahead. It feels strange to Reid for him to be leading the run after following the pack for so long but it doesn’t take much time for him to readjust to the need to move quickly with no one in the way.

  Even in the gloomy yellow glow of the well-spaced bulbs, Reid spots the rock fall ahead without much trouble. He slows, finally stopping in front of it, nerves making him jumpy and more than a little angry. Reid can see the tunnel on the other side, just over the mound of rocks and splintered wood, but it still makes him tremble.

  They are watching him, to see what he’ll do. If he panics, they will follow him down that road to definite destruction. Reid has to hold it together if only to keep the rest of the pack from falling apart.

  He turns to them with far more confidence than he feels, trying to hide he’s keeping a vigilant eye on the ceiling above the collapse. It gapes black above him, ready to swallow him up, he’s sure of it. “Okay, here’s how it’s going to go. Single file, one at a time.” They start to shake and whimper among themselves. It’s pretty obvious why. Reid clenches his teeth and fills their need for leadership once again. “Fine. I’ll go first and make sure it’s safe.”

  “Leave us behind, more like it,” Marcus snarls but no one is listening to him anymore. In this they are happy to let Reid risk his neck. Nice of them, but he can hardly blame their attitude. And while Reid knows Leila or Cole or even Milo would go instead if he asked them, he won’t.

  Reid approaches with caution, testing the ground around the cave in. The footing is loose and rough, every step raising a puff of dust. His sneakers slide over the first stone, forcing him almost to his hands and knees. He struggles for balance, cut left hand barely holding him while his busted right aches from the pressure of supporting his weight.

  He goes slowly, testing foot and hand holds while they watch him in silence. Their collective stare is like a mountain on his back, a distraction he doesn’t need. He wobbles on one foot for a moment, dodging back, ankle protesting the strain, nose stinging from the dust he raises. His traction is useless on the jagged stones. A grab for a broken beam drives a sliver of wood under one of his fingernails. He gasps, hears them groan behind him. But with one last leap he is free and safe on the other side.

  Reid draws a shaking, grateful breath before turning to face the others. “No sweat,” he calls to them. “Just stay in the center. It seems the most stable.”

  One by one they come to him, their terrified faces pinched with fear but their eyes full of the last scrap of trust they can muster. He coaches them over the rubble, time and again going after them when they slip or wobble. The smaller ones Reid lifts down rather than forcing them to make it the whole way on their own, despite his own pain, to save them the chance of a fall, not to mention what strength they have left.

  Milo almost rejects his help but takes it, grudgingly, small, dark hand clutching Reid’s only long enough for his feet to find solid ground before pulling free the instant he can. Alex hugs his little arms around Reid’s neck when he is lifted over and Reid has to pull him loose to help Cole. Marcus he allows to descend on his own and is vaguely disappointed when he makes it over without falling on his face.

  Leila is last, long blonde hair hanging in her frightened face but she is agile and stronger than she looks, making it to the other side unharmed. It infuriates Reid Marcus left her behind, but she holds him back from confronting him about it.

  “It was my choice,” she says.

  Reid lets it go, not believing her, only because they have to run again.

  He sees the second collapse shortly after. This one is much worse. It takes Reid quite a while to work out a safe path and by the time he reaches the other side, he’s drenched in sweat. But he repeats his help of the smaller kids, and gets to smirk after all when Marcus trips on the last step, the rock turning over under him, sending him crashing to his knees in the dust. Marcus’s jeans are black when he gets up, spots of blood left behind on the stone of the tunnel floor from the impact.

  Again they run on. Reid is growing desperate for a new tunnel. This one shows so much sign of decay it’s making it difficult to think about anything but the next collapse. He glances up from time to time, seeing the cracks and fissures in the stone above his head, knowing the whole thing could come down without a breath of notice.

  Timbers groan in agony overhead, soft sifting dust falling in loose patterns around them, as though their passage is almost too much for the earth to bear. Reid shudders from the image that the tunnel is a giant mouth, the walls crushing jaws, more dark and deadly than the creatures they run from.

  All the while, the hunter’s cries carry to them, seeming from all around. No matter how faint those howls are, the fearful echoes certainly aren’t helping any.

  When Reid finally spots a fresh opening branching off up ahead he feels a rush of relief. Just in time. On the heels of that, he has an epiphany that drains his gratitude away, driving a fist of fury into his gut.

  It’s so perfect it’s like this is planned. Which is exactly what the hunters had in mind. This is no ordinary mine and he admits to himself at last he’s known it for a while. It’s a construct, just like everything else about the hunters and the experiment. Aren’t mines supposed to have open places, where ores and coal can be brought out? Tracks for transportation, different levels? This is simply a maze, one tunnel after another, designed for the hunter’s maximum enjoyment. It’s all about the chase and the stalk and they are the prey caught up in it.

  Reid wants to yell curses at the top of his lungs, challenge the hunters to just come and get him then, but he can’t. Won’t. The kids don’t need to find out what he knows.

  He has to keep it to himself.

  Reid comes to a halt at the branch in the tunnel to work it out. He can no longer think like prey if he wants to make it out of there. No, it’s time to start thinking like a predator. What would the hunters expect him to do? On the right is a tunnel, more or less level, at least without further down grade. On the left the passage leads up. Level could mean deeper into the maze and up might be the surface. But he had no guarantees of either. Everything about this place is a contradiction and he can’t trust any of it.

  “What are you thinking?” Leila’s voice is soft and hesitant as she joins him.

  “What would the hunters do?” He smiles at her. “I’m tired of being on the wrong side of this.”

  She is quiet for a moment before blurting, “I’m sorry.”

  He almost forgot she gave Marcus ammunition against him. And honestly the pain of the betrayal is long gone, lost in the endless run through the tunnels. “I know,” he says. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not,” she says. “I never meant for… he overheard me talking to Milo.”

  Reid believes her. Chooses to believe her. And at this point, really, what does it matter? “Leila,” he says, “you don’t have to explain.”

  “I owe you so much. We all do.” Her thin hands clutch at each other like if she lets go she’ll fall apart. Reid reaches out and takes her twined hands, gently separating her fingers and holding them in his own. The throbbing in the back of his broken hand is less, the bite not so bad either.

  “No,” Reid says. “Don’t ever say that. You’re alive because you kep
t yourself alive. And that’s just the way it is for all of us.”

  Her pale eyes meet his, and he can tell she wants to say otherwise but, instead, she folds her fingers into his grip, drawing a soft breath.

  “I’m sorry.” She smiles at the repeated apology. “What were you saying?”

  “We need to focus.” Reid looks down one tunnel then the other.

  “Right,” she says. “What would the hunters do.” She looks back and forth with him, forehead furrowed. And rolls her shoulders forward in a shrug, her shoulder blades protruding sharply from under her grubby t-shirt. “They don’t make anything easy, do they?”

  Reid tenses, wondering if she’s figured out what he has but she just shakes her head and pulls her hands free.

  “What do you think?” She looks startled when he asks her that. He’s so tired of making choices it’s nice when she points.

  “Up, of course.” She breathes deeply, exhales in a rush. “Time to get out of here, don’t you agree?”

  “Up it is.” He is relieved. Whether it’s the right choice or not, he feels good about it. Because he didn’t have to make it alone. And Leila is right. They need to get out of the tunnels. He wishes things worked out differently, is still second guessing the original choice that put them underground in the first place, mind drifting to Drew, when she catches Reid’s fingers again and gently squeezes, careful of his injuries.

  “Not now,” she whispers, her voice vibrating with a gentle tremor hiding just below the surface. “We’ll fall apart later, question every turn, every choice, and mourn the ones we’ve lost or had to leave behind. But right now our only job is to get these kids out of here.”

  Reid squeezes back, almost calm in the face of her surety. Why did he doubt her again? He doesn’t have an answer, especially as she stands there, smiling at him, blinking moisture from her pale eyes, weariness in every line of her face but a steady and level look that gives him more strength than he deserves to ask for from her. Good thing she’s offering freely, then.

  Reid finally breaks her gaze and turns to face the pack, happy to have something to tell them. He is about to turn back to Leila, to ask her if she wants to share the choice they’ve made, when he spots Cole looking up.

  The boy murmurs something to Marcus. Points at the ceiling. Marcus looks up too. Reid’s eyes follow, find the crack above them, the fault line running across the two paths of the tunnels. Reid instantly understands Cole’s reasoning without hearing him speak. Knows before Marcus acts what the outcome will be.

  Reid is in a better position to see than they are and has been following the disintegration points of the tunnel’s structure since the second collapse. The crack isn’t just over their heads but runs sideways as well, into the level tunnel and off toward the next light bulb.

  What the two boys are considering will most likely bring down the whole ceiling and kill them all.

  Everything slows, time against Reid as he opens his mouth to say, “No!” But he is late, too late, Marcus is crouching, lifting a large rock, his arm pulling back. Reid lunges forward, his body trapped in time, like swimming in cold honey, as Marcus winds up and throws the stone right at the fault line.

  The rock makes a horrible sound, a sharp and hideous crack, the ceiling a worse one, deep rumbling heralding the end of the world while debris rains down on the pack. A jagged hole opens overhead, zigzagging away in three directions. The kids run forward as a group, terror forcing them ahead, into the tunnel leading upward. Reid is already in motion, stones falling around him, reaching for Cole who stares with his mouth gaped in a comic ‘O’ of surprise.

  Reid reaches the boy, lifts his slim form in both hands, his own body still slow, so slow. He spins into the lift and heaves Cole with all his strength at Leila, just as the world comes crashing down.

  ***

  Chapter Six

  Reid chokes on the air, the dust triggering an unhappy memory.

  Drew. A giant stone on his chest, blood oozing out around it where it’s crushed skin and bone and organs. Gasping, wheezing breath, blood-filled coughing. Pleading eyes behind shattered glasses, begging him for help while Drew’s voice says something else.

  Something about not letting the hunters eat him.

  Reid’s eyes fly open and he instantly closes them again, tearing immediately from the grit swirling across his vision, the sandpaper of it harsh under his eyelids. Panic rolls across his body, rippling over his skin in a giant patch of goose flesh, lifting his limbs in a massive shudder. He flinches from it, only because of that reaction discovering he is perfectly fine. No broken bones, his body intact. In fact, through some miracle, he is merely trapped in an air pocket, with nothing but smallish stones and pebbles weighing him down.

  Reid’s deep sigh of relief instantly turns to a coughing fit as the fine powder sifts down into his lungs. He shifts his face to the side, spitting out the debris and chalky air, burrowing his nose into the sleeve of his t-shirt in a poor attempt to filter out the dust. He tries to slide one arm up but there simply isn’t enough room beside him. Every time he attempts it, he meets either jagged-edged rock or splintered beams.

  His feet are also useless, bobbing up and down, his toes impacting unyielding rock with every try. From what he can tell, there are hardly a few inches between the tips of his sneakers and the world above him. He continues to feel around as best he can with his eyes firmly shut while the cloying mist of powdered rock settles, taking the near dark with it. Something casts a glow on the other side of his lids.

  Despite the return of a hint of light, claustrophobia eats away at his sanity.

  Reid knows he can’t afford to panic. When he risks another peek at his surroundings, his worst fears are realized. He is trapped under a layer of rocks, the one over his head barely six inches from his face. A whimper escapes him before he can stop it and he is forced to lie there for a long time while his heart pounds and his mind tells him the stones are getting closer and closer despite his rational mind assuring him that isn’t the case.

  Reid finally calms enough to tear his eyes away from the looming view above him and tips his chin to look down. He can see his feet, that much is good. The layers of rock overlap, keeping him safe from their crushing weight. To one side is the source of the glow, the flickering light bulb, cable uncut, the glass miraculously unbroken, resting in a pile of dust. He is safe. For how long he has no idea but in that horrible slice of time he is very grateful.

  Reid drops his head back and closes his eyes again to think. He must have passed out briefly when the ceiling came down, knocked on his back. Had he been on his side or even half-twisted, he is sure his fate would be far different.

  The dust has settled enough that he manages a full breath, only then realizing it’s not only his breathing he can hear. Reid turns his head the other way and looks.

  Marcus stares back at him, eyes so glazed over at first Reid is sure he is dead. He is on his stomach, one arm just visible under him, hand open, palm up, fingers curled in like a dead spider. Reid is about to reach out and try to touch him, to check for signs of life, when Marcus blinks slowly, once.

  It’s almost enough to make Reid freak out, like some horror movie where the hero finds out his friend is a robot or something. Not that they are friends. Not by a long shot. In fact, Reid isn’t sure if he’s happy Marcus is alive or not. But, at least he isn’t alone under all the rock.

  Yes, that would definitely be worse. He’ll take Marcus over solitude this time.

  “You okay?” His voice is harsh from coughing, a metallic taste in his mouth and the back of his throat. Reid fights the urge to gag and spit again.

  “I think so.” Marcus doesn’t try to move but his index finger twitches, as if of its own volition. He barely speaks above a whisper, voice expressionless. “Everything seems to work.”

  “Me too.” Reid stills, listens. Did he hear something? Voices. Above them. In his mind, he screams at the kids to not risk it, to go on without them. It’s f
oolish to attempt a rescue. But his heart leaps at the very idea of freedom and he lets it win.

  “They’ll kill us if they dig.” Marcus clings to his negativity like a little kid’s blanket. Reid wishes he could reach him so he could smack him. He’s sure it won’t take long at this rate for Marcus to wear down his nerves enough to make Reid wish he was alone after all.

  “Not if they’re careful.” He really has no idea but refuses to buy into anything Marcus believes if only out of pure spite. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with optimism. And until a pile of rock comes crashing down and ends it all, Reid intends to think positive. They survived didn’t they?

  He’s unable to stop his mind from going to Drew. It makes his heart pound all over again, imagining that kind of pain. The pool of blood on his friend’s chest. The river of it running from the boy’s mouth, painting his braces crimson. Reid shudders, unable to help himself, and does his best to catch his panicked breath.

  Something grinds overhead, sending a fine mist of dust down across Reid’s chest. His heart pounds once, twice, before settling again. The large stone over his body is obviously unstable. Reid is acutely aware that if it falls on him, he’s dead. Like Drew.

  He can’t let that happen.

  More grinding. Marcus whimpers softly. Reid does his best to ignore Marcus’s fear and closes his eyes. It’s easier to think without that chunk of stone staring him in the face. He has to somehow protect himself from that large rock over his abdomen if they do happen to shift it and it falls on him. It never crosses his mind that the one over his head is the biggest risk or even a broken leg or arm could very well spell the end of him. Instead he puts all his attention into supporting that one threatening stone.

  In his mind, all he can think of is Drew.

  The slab of rock is massive from his vantage point, as skewed as his view is, and for all he knows even bigger on the topside like some reversed iceberg ready to crush his life away. He tries wriggling to the left but he is too tightly wedged. When he slides to the right, closing the distance between him and Marcus, the young man lets out a miserable groan.