17
Sage
I thought the other kids would cry, or refuse to go down the ladder into the hole.
I thought I ’ d probably cry or pass out, too.
However, it turned out, when there were enough bad things all around you, the only choice was to move to the least bad thing.
And that meant moving away from the man with the gun and hurrying down the ladder, into the hole in the ground, with Bonnie right behind me and Evelyn Marks right behind her—we were the last kids down.
One rung.
Two rungs.
Three rungs.
I counted until twenty before the number scared me so much I quit counting. I felt like the ladder was floating in space because I couldn ’ t see the bottom of the pit. I knew that was dumb. It had to go somewhere. Ladders didn ’ t go forever. But that didn ’ t stop me imagining it.
Each time I stepped lower, I looked up at Bonnie above me, her tiny frame silhouetted dark against the opening of the hole. The sky was turning that rich, cloudless shade of blue Mom loved. Cerulean, she ’ d said, like that big beautiful word itself was part of why she loved it.
“ It ’ s okay, Bonnie, we ’ re almost down,” I said in a shaky voice, even though I had no idea. It was getting darker by the second. All I could think about was, were those two men with guns going to cover up the hole, like this was a grave?
Bonnie clung to the ladder like a baby monkey, gasping whenever she took a breath. The air wasn ’ t nearly as cool as I ’ d thought it might be down here. The smell of dry earth mixed with the scent I remembered from when Mom took me and Bonnie thrift shopping. Old clothes. Other people ’ s laundry detergent. A hint of musty body odor.
My hands felt sticky and hot on the rickety ladder rungs.
I tried to notice everything, taking pictures in my mind like I ’ d done when the van stopped and I scratched away the paint in the window. I didn ’ t know how it would help us, but it was the only thing I could do besides give up and let the pit swallow me and Bonnie whole.
At the top of the pit, where the sky showed through, the hole was square and narrow, like a chimney. Just large enough for a person to crawl down the ladder like Santa Claus.
The four walls of the chimney weren ’ t dirt. Instead, they were some kind of cheap, scratchy-looking wood. The wood walls bowed in a little.
At the bottom of the chimney, where we were, the pit opened up into a big, dark room or cave. I blinked my eyes open and shut, trying to see anything.
There was just darkness, and some shuffling and whimpering sounds beneath me that I hoped was the other kids.
Above me, Bonnie sucked her breath in so fast I thought she was falling for a second. But she kept quiet, and I knew she was just trying as hard as she could not to cry.
When I put my foot down next, expecting another rung, it finally hit something springy and soft. A mattress, I realized. “ Oh,” I gasped, then stepped back and ran right into another kid—Rose, I recognized from the squeak she made.
In the dim light coming from above, I could just see the glimmer of Bonnie ’ s wide eyes when she let go of the ladder and tumbled into me, with Evelyn right behind her.
The three of us looked back up the ladder, at that little faraway glimpse of pale blue sky.
All I wanted to do was scramble back up all the ladder rungs and then run as fast as I could, as far as I could, until I found a grownup who could actually help us.
Instead, I watched as the opening was suddenly blocked.
For a second I thought Jeepers or Greasy Hair were coming down here with us.
That made me clamp my teeth down on my cheek so hard I nearly bit part of it off. Bonnie grabbed hold of my arm and dug in her fingers.
“ It ’ s Ms. Jessa, ” I whispered after a second, relieved despite myself. Ms. Jessa wasn ’ t exactly great at being a grownup, but she was a mile better than Greasy Hair and Jeepers.
Another shape moved into the sky above Ms. Jessa as she climbed down from the chimney and into the big open space.
I could tell from the lumpy, weird shape of the body and head that it was Jeepers.
“ There ’ s some water in jugs along the wall,” he said in that same weird voice he ’ d used earlier. Almost silly, and too deep. “ And a couple flashlights. Some toilet paper. I … I built you a toilet in one corner. It ’ s just a bucket and a piece of p lywood with a hole cut in it, so be careful when you sit on it. Otherwise you ’ ll get splinters.”
Another voice—Greasy Hair ’ s—growled something I couldn ’ t understand.
“ Oh, for shit ’ s sake,” Jeepers muttered under his breath so soft I almost couldn ’ t hear it. Then, to us, he said, “ And there ’ s some peanut butter sandwiches. There ’ s not that much. But … we ’ ll bring you more when it runs out.”
“ Come on, they ’ ll figure it out.” Greasy Hair was standing next to Jeepers now, at the top of the hole. He grabbed the top of the ladder, grunted, and shook it so hard it wobbled and creaked. “ Come on, lady. Let ’ s go. Move. ”
Ms. Jessa moved faster, reaching the bottom of the ladder just in time as both men started hauling it up and out of the pit. When the bottom of the ladder went past the ceiling of the room, they set the legs down on the narrow ledge with a thunk and fussed with something that made the top of the ladder slide downward in a loud set of clanks, turning it from a tall ladder into a short one.
From where I stood looking upward, it looked like the ladder was suspended in midair above us, but that couldn ’ t be true. It ’ s resting on the roof of this little room, I realized, tucking that thought away even though the information seemed useless. The top of the room—or whatever this place was—was so high up there was no way any of us could reach it without that ladder. But noticing it was what Harriet the Spy would do. So I did, too.
Ms. Jessa stumbled around on the squeaky mattress for a second, getting her balance beside me. I could hear her breathing, raspy and hard like she ’ d just finished running a race. She looked up at Jeepers and Greasy Hair. Then, in a voice like she was apologizing for opening her mouth at all, she said, “ Wait, hold on, please? You can ’ t just leave us down here—”
Greasy Hair laughed, cutting her off and waving away what she said. “ You ’ ll be fine. We left you water.” He gestured down into the hole. “ We thought of everything,” he said, like he was pretty proud of himself. Then he waved to Jeepers. “ Come on, help me with the roof. Let ’ s close it.”
I watched in terror as Jeepers nodded, then grabbed hold of the ladder and lowered himself down into the chimney.
Close them in.
That was when Mindy lost it. Not just crying or whimpering, but lost it. “ No, no, no, no, NO,” she started screaming, so fast I could barely tell where one no stopped and another began.
Her panic was contagious, like yawns. Ben ’ s voice, then Rose ’ s, then Bonnie ’ s joined in, begging the men not to shut us in.
I swallowed my screams back, afraid of what it would feel like to let the terror fully into my lungs.
“ Quiet, ” Jeepers thundered when he tucked his chin and looked down at us, and even Mindy Gamel forced her screams back into little whimpers. “ You ’ ve got everything you need down there,” he snapped. “ Nobody can hear you. So when you scream, you ’ re just making us mad. Don ’ t try anything stupid, and you ’ ll be out of here soon. If you ’ re good and quiet, you get out. If you ’ re bad, bad things will happen.”
Saying something under his breath, he moved down a few more ladder rungs until he reached the spot where the wooden chimney ended, at least ten feet above our heads. Then he stepped to the side.
“ We won ’ t have enough air,” Ms. Jessa said, her voice trembling in the sudden silence. “ Our carbon dioxide—”
“ There ’ s a couple of air tubes in the shaft,” Jeepers muttered, not looking at her but pointing up at the top of the hole.
I tried to swallow, but my sticky, dry throat barely obeyed.
A loud, echoing scrape filled the dark room as he started dragging something heavy across the opening to the chimney.
The ceiling of the little room groaned and squealed, like a hurt animal.
My view of the ladder, Greasy Hair ’ s smashed-up face looking down at us, and the dim light at the top of the pit started to disappear. A few trickles of dirt fell down onto my cheeks, but I didn ’ t even brush them away.
Bonnie gripped my arm harder.
I realized I ’ d grabbed onto Ms. Jessa ’ s hand without meaning to. I didn ’ t pull it away, though.
In a few more seconds, we ’ d be completely sealed underground.