Chapter Thirty-Two
TODAY, AS I TRUDGE INTO a tunnel that tightens around me like a whole-body blood pressure cuff, I learn I am claustrophobic.
My knees wobble, the walls narrow, the ceiling shortens, and a bone-chilling voice in my head screams and screams and screams. Go back, it says. Abandon ship. These walls will suffocate you like Mom’s lungs did to her.
Dust drifts above my footsteps and swirls with the dim light of this shitty flashlight.
The billowing dirt forms shapes, so I focus on what I can see rather than what I can’t.
Dragons and hippos and cars and fingers.
The shapes are real, and my paranoia is not.
No, I will not work for Greeley. I will do this for myself.
I will conquer this newfound fear; maybe then I can stand against those who have taken advantage of it: Peter, Chandler, Greeley. The memory of my father.
You left, but I am not scared. You betrayed me, but I am loved.
The walls threaten to cave in on me, but I burst through them like dynamite, my fists proudly bloodied and bruised. Figuratively, that is.
A glowing yellow ball emerges in the distance. Quietly, I pad toward the light, and it grows larger with every step.
Eventually, a woman and a man come into view.
They kneel in single file, each wearing a hand lamp.
They turn their heads and lower their shovels, full of red clay, when they see me.
My head hits the ceiling, and since I’m already crouched, I lower to my knees.
Wet hair is plastered to the man’s and woman’s foreheads, their dirty clothes drenched in sweat.
I can’t stop staring at the woman. There’s a familiarity to the black brows and sharp cheekbones that etch her face, though I can’t put my finger on why.
“You made it,” she says with a slight Indian accent. Her chest heaves with labored breath. “My name is Anika.”
Oh my god, it's Anika. Anika of the Fig Newtons. Anika from my childhood. Anika, who is very much not dead.
Guilt washes over me. I feel nothing toward the woman kneeling before me. She is a stranger.
“Hi,” I say. “I’m Kota.”
“I know who you are.”
It's apparent Anika's as surprised to see me here as I am her. She quickly glances me over, as if realizing I am no longer the kid she knew, her eyes pausing on the scrunchie at my wrist before flicking away, aloof. She doesn’t remember loaning it to me. I almost laugh, realizing I’m more attached to the scrunchie itself than I am to any memories with her.
“What are you two doing?” I ask. “Why am I here?”
The man behind her offers a lopsided smile. “Digging through to the other side, of course.” His words come out like his mouth is full of marbles. “We’ve been workin’ like mad folk. I reckon we’ll do eight feet today.”
“That’s Sawyer,” Anika says.
When Sawyer smiles, his tongue sticks out through his missing two front teeth. He pulls a protein bar out of his pocket, downs it in two bites, and throws the wrapper on the ground.
“I can introduce myself, Ani,” he says. “Sawyer. Pleasure to meet you, Kota. Puttin’ a face to our infiltrator sure does make this whole thing seem more real. Reminds me there’s light at the end of the tunnel.”
Oh?
Sawyer licks his chapped lips. Chocolate and clay. “Fair warning, though, Miss Kota. If we’re to keep up with Chief’s timeline, the rest of this tunnel ain’t gon’ be luxurious like this. We still got quite a ways to go. It’s a good thang you’re small.”
Quite a ways to go.
No. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
“Got about two weeks left, I’d say,” Sawyer continues, peeling back the wrapper of another protein bar. With a mouthful of nuts and chocolate, he says, “Shoot, but if our commander keeps bringing us goodies, Ani and I here could finish up sooner.”
My heart pounds in my chest. “So I’m supposed to go through this tunnel—which goes under the Split—into Egal? And do what, exactly?”
Anika clears her throat. “We need you to find Garrett and Eagan and bring them back. And”—Anika pauses—“report back on Chandler. We need her plans.”
“Two questions: Why me? And what plans?”
“You know the layout of Egal better than anyone in Macoby. And if you’re caught, you can say you escaped us brutal Macs.
” Anika’s voice is laced with sarcasm. “If we were to send another Mac, your people wouldn’t be so kind.
For obvious reasons, we cannot lose another one of our people.
Finally, we need someone small enough to fit through the tunnel. You fit the bill.”
I ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. “And the plans?”
“Chandler is up to something, but we don’t know what. Attaining some documentation of her plans is critical. She has the upper hand, and we must change that, especially if she plans to take us to war.”
My voice shakes as I say, “You think Chandler wants war?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Fuck. This is much bigger than a rift between Chief and Chandler. “Last question—why did I have to come all the way down here for you to tell me this?”
“Had to see if you could do it, of course.” Anika smiles. “Can’t put our faith in someone afraid of the dark.”
“Oh, I’m afraid,” I say, gripping the dimming flashlight. “But I’m here, aren’t I?”
Sawyer hoots and pulls out a third bar. This guy. “Atta girl!”
“What’s Chief giving you in return for digging?” Digging is an incredibly laborious task, and I can’t imagine they volunteered, even if the two men Chandler took meant something to them. “Protein bars?”
“Twenty grams per bar!” Sawyer says, tossing the wrapper aside. “ ’Course, that ain’t all. He’s givin’ me six cases of full metal jacket ammo. What’s he givin’ you again, Ani?”
“Insulin. For my mother.” My flashlight gives out. Anika steps toward me. “Do you understand now?”
My stomach drops. I remember: Anika’s mom had a hot pink pump.
“Yes.” I gulp. “I understand.”
“Good,” she says. “Now find your way out.”