Darren Wearmouth - The Critical Trilogy Box Set

Ben began to crouch, but bolted up after a siren started to blast. It sounded similar to the ones he’d heard watching clips of twentieth century car chases. It was different to the usual warnings alarms.

A cold shiver of dread crawled down his back. Something wasn’t right here. He could just sense it.

The light on the ceiling began to spin, accompanying his previous thought.

Behind the large door he heard a rattling sound, like somebody dropping a chain. The bottom edged shuddered and lifted up a couple of inches, sending bright light streaming into the small room.

“Hello?” Ben said, “We’re from Ops. Come to run protocol checks on the stasis chamber as per the—”

The solid door jerked up a few inches at a time. No one responded. He could see shadows beneath the door. He held his arm toward Erika. “Come on. Let’s get you on your feet.”

He looked down and saw a pair of dark gray, smooth leather boots on the other side. They looked huge, much larger than usual. Just who was that on that on the other side? Ben took a step back as the door continued to rise.

CHARLIE IGNORED Pippa’s protests and headed for the sinkhole.

The sheriff stood in front of him, his arm pressing against Charlie’s chest.

“I’m sorry, son, I can’t let you get any closer. It’s not safe.”

“I’ve done this kind of thing before. If that’s one of our kids down there, I want to get down there ASAP. Your guys don’t seem in much of a rush.”

The fire chief joined the sheriff. “We have to use procedure to make sure no one else gets hurt. We’re doing all we can. We’ll be mounting a rescue shortly.”

“How?” Charlie said. “You’re busy watching the monitor. You should be having people down there with ropes and climbing gear. But you don’t have any of that stuff do you? Where are the resources for this kind of rescue?”

The sheriff looked sheepish. “We’re stretched at the moment is all. We’re managing with what we’ve got.”

Pippa joined Charlie. “He’s right, Charlie, let’s not do anything drastic here.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not waiting. I know what I’m doing.”

With that, Charlie turned away and tied the end of his 200ft rope to the grill bars on the fire truck. He followed his usual climbing prep procedure, fit his harness, checked his knots, put on his head mounted flashlight and headed for the hole.

The place smelled of fresh dirt. It reminded him of days spent in the summer working on farms picking strawberries.

The fire crew remonstrated with the sheriff but ultimately realized like Charlie that it was quicker if he went down there.

The chief came over to him. “Son, don’t do anything stupid okay? Take the camera with you. Pull it up and show us what you’re seeing as you go. We’ll be right here if anything happens. We’ve got resources on the way, but with the sinkhole on the farm and one opening up in the town we’re really pushed at the moment.”

“Don’t worry about me, chief. I’ve done this a thousand times. Is there audio on the camera?”

“No, but take this radio. It’s already tuned to our frequency.” The chief handed him a small but rugged 2-way which Charlie clipped to his harness around his chest.

“Are you sure you want to do this,” Pippa said, reaching out for him. “I mean, it’s dangerous, what if… I couldn’t…” she broke her eye contact then, looked off into the distance.

Charlie gave her a hug and while close, whispered in her ear, “I’ll be right up, you’ll see. No worries, no stress.” He gave her a reassuring smile but she didn’t look convinced and held onto him a few moments longer than would be considered usual for just friends.

He had a brief thought of holding on, staying on the surface, but seeing Steph’s pale face as she stood by the fire truck gave him the motivation to carry on and break away. “I’ll be back,” he said with a wink.

The chief and another fire officer explained the controls of the camera and discussed a few rote safety procedures, but Charlie had heard it all before. “Okay, I got it. I’m going in.”

He had hooked a second climbing harness over his shoulders. If Luke was down there, the others would be able to lift him, or use the winch on the truck.

A tug on the pair of ropes ensured the knots were solid.

Charlie stepped backwards until he found the edge of the sinkhole. He leaned his weight back until he reached nearly ninety-degrees, dug his heels into the topsoil, and walked his way down into the darkness.

His light shined against the dirt. As he continued to abseil down, he noticed there was little clay and the walls were smooth. He reached out and touched the edge, feeling it with his hands. He didn’t recognize the sensation.

It was too smooth. Unnatural.

The further he descended the more he recognized a degree of uniformity on the surface. There were striations, spiraled like the inside of a gun barrel. Even the various layers of rocks, halfway down, were smooth, almost to the point of polished. Charlie thought that perhaps it was more of a burnishing, done with great heat. And yet, the smell was of cold, damp, earth.

He shivered slightly, thinking of the temperature.

The entrance hole was shrinking away, the angular morning light dissipating, unable to penetrate the gloom. His head-mounted flashlight cast a single, weak beam into the void.

The 2-way radio crackled to life.

“Charlie, this is Pippa. Are you okay? Over.”

He stopped his descent, ensured he was secure, bent his head to the radio and responded. “I’m fine, Pip. Just over halfway by my reckoning. The surface of the hole is strange, smooth. It’s like I’m going down a steel tube or something. Over.”

“We’re not getting the video, Charlie, can you check the camera. Over.”

“Shit, sorry, I forgot… I was distracted. Let me sort that out now and I’ll head lower. Talk soon. Over.”

The camera was attached to his harness. Its umbilical cord twisted up to the surface alongside his own rope, the last two things to connect him to the real world.

His movements didn’t echo.

Any sound was hungrily consumed by the hole, snatched from the air as soon as the sound waves birthed. Even his heartbeat that pulsed through his ears seemed muted as if shrouded and stolen by the darkness.

Filming with one hand, Charlie slowly panned the camera round and down, giving those on the surface a chance to see what he saw. His hand shook as a vibrations ran up through the hole.

Fragments of dirt fell away from the sides as the noise of moving earth roared louder, gas and air and debris shot up, making him cough. He swung forward, hooking the camera to his harness but pointing down. He dug his feet in firmly and clung to a half-inch-wide groove.

The shuddering vibrated through his hands. It felt like an earthquake.

He’d experienced a number of them during his time in California, but there was something about this that just didn’t sit right with him.

One particular time he was half a mile underground, exploring a cave system when a quake struck. That was more violent than this one, but the roar of moving earth and air beneath made it seem like the hole was alive and devouring anything within its gullet.

He wondered then that if Luke were indeed down there, he’d likely have gone lower as the hole continued to sink.

“Charlie, what’s happening down there? Are you okay? Over.” Pippa said over the radio. He looked up to see her face poking over the edge.

Taking one hand away from the groove to depress the radio he replied, “I’m fine, the hole has sunk further I think. I’m going lower. And stand back. I don’t want you falling in. It’s hard to tell how safe the ground is around here. Over.”