Chapter 53
53
The hole sucked me in; even as I planned to catch myself, I was hurtling through a tunnel, fast as a water park slide, paralyzed by the freezing-cold water. I hadn’t taken a deep enough breath, and now I gasped and water rushed in, filling my mouth and throat and lungs.
I’m drowning. The next few seconds stretched out, my chest on fire, my brain shutting down with panic, and then I was slamming against something and my head broke the water.
For a few seconds, all that mattered was inhaling oxygen and coughing and vomiting out the water. But then in the pitch-black and waist-deep water I noticed things touching me.
Something small and hard bumped against my calf. And something much bigger and softer pressed into my back.
I froze. Silky hair fanned against my palm.
I screamed and struggled in the other direction, back to where I came out, but the tunnel’s flow was too much, too strong. I felt around the walls. I cannot be stuck in this water with—
There was a ledge. I could feel its bumpy but relatively flat surface. I hoisted myself up, from cold water into cold air. It was barely big enough for me; I tried to sit up and my head hit the ceiling, so I hunched over, then lay down. I could fit on my side.
Grace is dead. She’s dead. She’s dead.
The knowledge squeezed my chest and my throat with dread.
What happened? Did she hit her head on her way here? Did she drown?
Now that I knew, I could smell it, sweet and sickly. Rotting flesh. I gagged and threw up over the side of the ledge.
But why did she smell if she’d died one day ago? I thought of what had bumped against my leg. There was someone or something else in here too. Something that had been here longer.
Okay. I was on the verge of it—a frenzy, a hysteria, that would hold me in its grip and not let go. I needed to breathe. Good. Now I needed to take stock. I moved different body parts. My head ached horribly from when Sol had dropped me in the cave, but otherwise I felt okay. I rubbed my goose-bumped arms. It was freezing. Should I take off my wet clothes? Would that be better or worse? I pulled off my jacket, opening it on the ledge to dry.
Something was pressing into my upper thigh. Karen had slipped something in my pocket right before they’d shoved me in.
It was a tiny key chain flashlight wrapped in plastic.
Oh thank god. I ripped open the plastic and a piece of paper fell out. “Shit!” I lunged but it was too late: the paper was consumed by the churning water.
Another sob lodged in my throat. I had to stay calm. Karen was trying to help me. She’d given me this flashlight because somehow she’d known where I’d end up.
I needed to use the light to take stock. But suddenly I didn’t want to, the aversion so strong it took my breath away. I didn’t want to see where I was. What was in here with me.
Do it, Thea. I gritted my teeth, clicked it on.
It was worse in the light. Much worse.
I was indeed trapped in a tiny chamber. It was filled with water, rushing from the tunnel to my left and continuing out to my right. But the tunnel out wasn’t intact; it broke into smaller holes, all the size of my fist or smaller. The water rushed through but trapped me inside.
No way out. That’s why Grace was trapped in here with me. I’d disturbed her body, and now her head bumped against the hole-filled wall. I thought randomly of an exercise I’d been taught in the high school gym unit on swimming—if you were in the middle of the ocean, waiting to be rescued, you’d position yourself like this: arms out, head down. Only Grace couldn’t raise her head to take a breath. Her wet neon hair was subdued, a rich copper in the blue-tinged light. And something else floated next to her: a small creature covered in glossy black fur. A dog? A whiff of that rotting scent: it was the animal, further along in death.
They were so close. If I leaned over the ledge, I could touch them.
I shuddered, turning off the light.
I was trapped in this tiny space with two corpses.
I screamed.
I stopped only when my throat felt raw, then curled my head into my arms. My brain felt disconnected; I couldn’t comprehend why I was here.
No. I had to think. I had to fucking think . Catherine had gotten out of here. I needed to remember that. I just had to figure out how.
I clicked the flashlight again. Had she climbed back out against the current? I plunged my hand beneath the water, but the flow felt too strong. I also couldn’t remember how long the tunnel had been. I knew my panic had probably stretched it out, but it hadn’t been short.
I played the light all around the cave walls. I even desperately pushed at the ceiling, but the rock was, of course, solid and unyielding.
“Fuck,” I whispered. I shoved the flashlight deep in my pocket and rubbed my arms, my legs. This was bad. This was very, very bad.
I forced myself to take deep breaths. Karen had given me this flashlight. Why? If only I hadn’t dropped the fucking note. It could’ve said anything from Help is on the way to I’m sorry, hon.
I thought of Catherine’s bloodied fingertips at the hospital. She’d tried to crawl out of the tunnel. Had she succeeded?
I thought of her blank eyes, staring at Block D’s wall. I’d been so curious what had happened to her. What was so horrifying that it had shut her brain down.
Well, now I knew.