Ike Hamill - The Vivisectionist

They couldn’t see Ben in the dark. Stephen let go of Jack’s hand and pointed his light into the hole just as Ben lost his grip on the walls and fell to the floor. With Ben’s weight pressing down at the bottom of the pit, the trapdoor began to rise back up into place, but Jack thrust his hand in the gap to stop it from closing.

The trapdoor shut hard on Jack’s hand and he cried out in pain. “Get off the floor!” he yelled to Ben below. Ben sprung back up, and Jack pull his hand out.

“Bag,” Jack said to Stephen, reaching toward his pack. When he had his pack propping open the door he looked down at Ben — “Okay” Jack said.

Ben lowered himself to the floor and the door closed on Jack’s pack but was unable to latch.

“Give me a hand, will you?” Jack reached his injured hand toward Stephen who took it in both of his. Stephen pulled Jack to the far side of the hole. They looked through the gap made by the backpack. Ben stood about ten feet below.

The pit was narrow enough — Ben could brace his back against one wall and his feet against the other to hold himself off the floor. Jack suggested that might be his way out.

“Can you climb up here by bracing against the wall?” Jack asked Ben.

“Maybe,” Ben said. “Catch” he said as he threw his backpack up to Stephen.

He put his back against one wall and pushed with bent legs against the opposite. Pressing behind himself, he could raise his back up several inches and then shuffle his feet up. When he got bolder with his arms, and pushed himself up about a foot, he really started to make progress.

“Get ready to grab me — I don’t know what I’m going to do at the top,” said Ben.

“Okay,” said Jack.

Jack and Stephen pressed the trapdoor out of the way completely now that Ben’s weight was off the floor. When Ben got high enough he had to step on the folded trapdoor to go higher.

“I should have started the other way,” said Ben.

“Yeah, but it would be harder to pull you out if you were sideways,” said Jack.

“Just get a little higher and we can grab you,” said Stephen. “Oh shit — you’re head is totally fucked up.”

“Yeah? It really kills,” said Ben.

Stephen shone his light on Ben’s head where his hair was matted down with blood. Ben slid his torso up as high as he could without planting feet on the trapdoor. “This is it,” Ben said. He raised his arms up to Stephen and Jack. They each grabbed a hand, and leaning over the edge of the hole, tried to grab Ben under his armpits.

“Okay, go slow,” said Jack.

With support, Ben was able to kick against the folded trapdoor and get even higher. His feet flailed somewhat when they got his head and shoulders above the floor level, but then Ben kicked off and popped out of the hole to fall in a heap with Jack and Stephen. The trapdoor closed behind him and snapped into place.

“Jesus, you okay?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know,” Ben gently patted at his head with his hand. “How does it look.”

“Bad,” said Stephen. “Were you like knocked out or something?”

“I think so,” said Ben. “I woke up in the dark and my alarm was going off. I was upside down, like resting on my head.”

“Wow, that sucks,” said Jack.

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Ben. “Which way out?”

“That way,” pointed Stephen. “We’re on the wrong side of that thing,” he waved at the trapdoor.

“I think we can stretch across,” said Jack.

Ben tried to get his flashlight to come on, but it was stubborn. Jack handed him an extra light from his pack and Ben stowed the broken one.

“So much for that stupid map,” said Ben.

“No, the map’s okay,” said Jack. “We just miscounted the number of turns.”

“My bad,” said Stephen.

“Well, whatever, let’s get gone,” said Ben.

“Yeah, too bad though,” said Jack. “It’s not even noon yet.”

“You want to keep going?” Ben was furious. “I might have to go get stitches, ass.”

“It’s not that bad, Ben,” said Stephen. “Are you sure you don’t want to just hang out for a second while we look for the next area?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure,” yelled Ben. After raising his voice he grabbed his head with new pain. Jack rolled his eyes at Ben’s discomfort.

“Okay, no sweat, we’ll get going then,” said Stephen.

Jack grabbed his pack and tossed it past the trapdoor. Reaching past the seam, he straddled the hole and then hopped his feet across. Once on the other side, he collected his pack and shone his light so Ben could see.

“Here,” Ben slid his pack. He reached across and tried to copy Jack’s move, but he was clumsy and barely made it. Right behind him, Stephen made it look easy.

As they made their way out of the hotel, each obstacle seemed to present more of a challenge for Ben. He was barely able to haul himself up the five-foot climbs in the maze section, even with help from above and below. He took several minutes to work up the nerve to attempt the long jump in the attic. In the bishop’s room, Ben’s balance faltered and he kept slipping from the white tiles, triggering the door to close: sixty seconds each time.

By the time they made it outside, Ben felt like he was under attack from Jack and Stephen, and they both felt that Ben was being dramatic about his injury.

“You should wash your head in the creek,” said Jack.

“No way — it will totally get infected,” replied Ben.

“You’ll be okay,” said Jack. “We’ve never gotten infected before.”

“This is a head wound ,” said Ben. “We’ve never exactly had a head wound.”

“Same difference,” said Jack. “Besides, what are you going to tell my mom?”

“Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about?” asked Ben. “I’ll tell her whatever I want. Shit, I’ll tell her the truth. But whatever I tell her doesn’t matter, as long as I get my head fixed up.”

“Yeah, Ben, you’re right,” mediated Stephen. “You need to get fixed up — let’s get you fixed up.”

Stephen led Ben through the woods towards the path.

Jack followed, but was still irritated and it showed in the way he stomped through the woods. Stephen shot Jack a look.

Stephen had his arm across Ben’s shoulders. Jack carried Ben’s pack.

Stephen broke the silence in a reasonable, calm voice — “When we get back we’ll find Jack’s mom right away.”

“Yeah, good idea,” said Ben.

“We might as well tell her you hit your head in the woods though,” said Stephen. Ben began to protest, but Stephen kept talking — “I mean it doesn’t really matter, as long as you get to the hospital — right?”

“You think I’ll have to go to the hospital?” asked Ben.

“I don’t know, but probably, ’cause it’s Jack’s mom,” answered Stephen.

“What do you mean?”

“Well if it were Jack, she’d probably just look at it and say he could just wash it off, but she’s not going to say that to someone else’s kid,” said Stephen. “She’d be too afraid of getting sued or something.”

“That’s crazy,” said Ben. “She’s known my mom forever, she’ll won’t treat me any different.”

“Remember that time you scraped your leg on that tree out back?” Jack joined in from behind. “And my mom made you call your mom?”

“Yeah, that's right,” said Ben. “You guys know I hate the hospital. You’re just trying to get me to keep quiet.”

“Look, if your mom was answering the phone, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to go,” said Stephen. “But if Jack’s mom can’t get in touch with her, then you’re screwed.”

“I didn’t think of that,” said Ben. “Man, I really don’t want to go.”