William Meikle - The Hole

“Did the Hopman mines stretch this far?” Janet asked.

“Not that I know of,” Bill replied. “But the old man was quite the one for digging where he shouldn’t, so it wouldn’t surprise me.”

“What if we meet…” Janet’s voice trailed off, but Bill knew what she meant.

“Ain’t much we can do about that, except hope that this here light is strong enough to keep them at bay… unless you’ve got any other ideas?”

She shook her head.

“I just want to get up to the road as quick as we can.”

“You and me both,” Bill said.

The four of them went into the tunnel.

Janet was pleased to see that they were on a slight slope upward, and the feel of fresh air on her cheeks gave her more hope. But that was quickly quelled a few minutes later when they came to the first junction. Three dark tunnels faced them, and all three had enough of a draught coming through to cause the lighter to flicker when tested.

Bill shone the light along each tunnel in turn.

“Just more of the same,” he said. “I’m of a mind to keep bearing west, which will be the one on the right if I still have my bearings.”

“Whatever you say, Sheriff,” Fred replied. “I’m a visitor here myself.”

The girl at his side laughed at that, a sound so unexpected that Janet found herself joining in. The sound echoed around them, leaving behind whispers in the shadows before fading. Just as Bill stepped into the right-hand tunnel, an answering laugh echoed around them, one with no trace of humor in it, dull, like a recording of a recording.

“Behind, or in front?” Bill said, sweeping the whole area with light while turning in a circle.

“I couldn’t tell,” Janet replied.

“Behind. Definitely behind,” Sarah replied. Her eyes were wide, and Janet saw white at her knuckles where she gripped Fred’s hand.

Janet was suddenly struck by a terrible thought.

“The bodies!”

She would have headed straight back to the accident site if Bill hadn’t put a hand on her shoulder.

“They’re dead,” he said softly. “And we’re alive. I want to stay that way. Come on. Double time.”

Bill led them up the right-hand tunnel at a fast walk.

They met another junction in less than a hundred yards.

It’s a warren.

Bill didn’t hesitate, taking the rightmost exit. He set a fast pace, and Janet started to breathe heavily after only a few more minutes. Sarah was struggling to keep up, and Fred had to take much of her weight just to keep her moving.

“We need to slow,” Janet said. “Just a bit.”

“The draught’s getting stronger,” Bill replied. “I think we’re nearly out.”

They turned a corner, and the passageway opened up into a much wider chamber. Rubble—the tumbled remains of at least one house lay strewn across the space ahead of them. Bill waved the beam of light around the area. Once again they stood in the bottom of a deep hole, with sides too steep to even contemplate a climb. Stars showed in a patch of sky high above; the opening was thirty feet or so away, but it might as well have been thirty miles.

“This might take longer than I thought,” Bill said. He washed light over the rubble. “See if there’s anything salvageable; just stuff we can carry. I’ll keep watch.”

Janet joined Fred and Sarah in a scramble through the wreckage. Every time they shifted a larger piece of wood aside she held her breath, fearing they might expose a body underneath. But it seemed that the owners hadn’t been home at the time of the collapse.

Or maybe they were, and have already been taken?

She immediately regretted ever having that thought, for all of a sudden she again felt as if there were watchers all around, lurking in the shadows. She tried to keep her mind on the task at hand.

“Got something,” Fred said. He shifted a door aside, reached down, and came up with a packet of biscuits. Further rummaging produced some bottled water, peanuts and dried fruit. Sarah even found a shoulder bag that, once dusted off, served as a carrier for the food.

“At least we won’t starve,” Fred said dryly.

“If we’re to be down here that long , I’m planning on going mad first,” Janet replied, aware of just how close to the truth the remark might be.

Something shifted in the rubble just six feet from where Janet stood. She scuttled backward towards Bill. At the same time, Fred and Sarah backed away, leaving them on the far side of the wreckage from Janet and the sheriff. Wood creaked and moved, dust rose to float in the beam of light… and three too-tall, too-thin figures came up out of the ruined house.

“Weemean,” the nearest one said, and raised a hand.

The sheriff wasn’t taking any chances this time. He stepped forward, aiming the light straight at the lead figure. It started to waver and melt.

“Weemean,” the voice said again, and was joined by others, the two figures behind it… and more, many more, from the dark shadows around them. Even in the gloom Janet was aware of grayer shapes in the darkness, coming closer.

“Bill?” she said.

“I see them,” the big man replied. “Fred, get your ass over here. It looks like we’re leaving.”

Fred and the girl started to circle around the rubble. Pale shapes came out of the darkness behind them, arms reaching.

“Run!” Janet shouted.

Luckily the other pair didn’t need to be told twice.

The sheriff chose a passageway and headed for it. All four of them reached it at the same time and together they fled into darkness lit only by the swinging beam from the flashlight on the rifle. A sound followed them, a high cry, almost mournful, from a choir of voices.

Weemean.

The sheriff led them at a flat run for several hundred yards in a tunnel that dipped slightly downward before bringing them to a halt at another junction.

“We’re going the wrong way,” Big Bill said. They were all breathing heavily and Fred had worked up a sweat that tricked down the back of his shirt.

“I ain’t going back,” Sarah said. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”

She gripped Fred’s hand and squeezed, tight.

“I’m with her,” Fred said. “We need to keep going. It’s got to lead somewhere. ”

Doc was looking at the ground.

“Shine that light over here, Bill. We’ve got something.”

The sheriff did as he was asked and shone the light on the floor of the tunnel. A parallel set of lines led off into the distance.

Tracks. Like those of a cart?

“I think we’ve found one of old man Hopman’s tunnels,” Doc said.

The sheriff agreed.

“And where there’s tracks, there’s a starting point… and maybe a way out.”

“But it’s going down,” Sarah said. “Ain’t we supposed to be going up?”

Before Big Bill could answer, sounds of padding footsteps echoed down the tunnel from behind them.

“Weemean,” a chorus of voices shouted, the echoes in the confined space making it sound like there was a massed throng coming through the dark towards their position.

Big Bill didn’t hesitate.

“Follow me,” he said.

It ain’t like we’ve got much choice.

Doc went in the middle behind Bill.

“You should go ahead a bit,” Fred said to Sarah, “I’ll watch our backs.”

She laughed. “And what do you plan to do if there’s anything there? Use harsh language?”

Fred managed a rueful grin. “You never know…”

Sarah kept a tight grip on his hand as they followed the sheriff’s bobbing and swaying flashlight down the tracks. “I can swear real loud,” she said, still smiling. “Just say when.”