As I start looking around, I notice how scarily silent it’s become. I try to match how quiet it is as I sneak around the shed. When I look toward the cabin, I see the space from here to the front door is clear. I take a step forward before glancing back toward the front of the shed where the wood is hanging off the structure in ribbons.
A voice in my head says, “Don’t run. Don’t look back,” just as I hear a twig snap from behind the shed. I let out a shaky breath, holding tight to the knife in my hand as I turn back around and take another slow step forward.
Chapter Eighteen
I fill my mind with visions of myself making it inside the cabin. It’s the only option and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen. As I make it around the corner, the front door becomes visible and my heart pounds even harder than I knew possible.
Goosebumps cover my body as I physically feel the creature walking up behind me. It’s getting closer every second and even though I’m not letting myself look back, I can tell I’m losing ground. Keep walking. Don’t stop. It’s so close, I can hear it breathing. Don’t look back. I’m so close. I walk a little faster as I hear the footsteps of the creature right behind me. I’m just a step away from the porch when I feel a hand on my arm. When I look down, I see it wrap its long, boney fingers around my upper arm.
My instincts take over, and I twist, swinging the hand that’s holding the knife and hoping it connects. A deafening scream cuts through the air and when I look up, I see the creature grabbing its face as blood pours out around its hand. It falls backward, writhing on the ground for a moment before sprinting back into the forest and out of sight.
I take my chance, wasting no time before darting into the cabin and locking the door behind me. I fall back onto the bottom stair and burst into tears, but not normal tears. I’m wailing out my fear and adrenaline as I give myself over to this intense emotion.
_____
I wipe my eyes, letting the leftover adrenaline guide me back to the basement door. I throw my extra flashlight into the backpack before pulling the map out of my pocket. I pull it apart and decide to give it a quick study, hoping it will be worth the risk I took to get it. I scan all around the map, looking for any clues on how long the tunnel is. I’m not a map expert, but even I can tell it’s probably not to scale. Still, it looks like it could be miles long. I really hope not.
A river is clearly marked on the map at the end of the tunnel along with two other landmarks— a giant tree and a tower on the other side of the river. The thought and hope that it could be my fire tower fills my stomach with hope. This is exactly what I needed. Going through the tunnel could be worth it if it means I end up closer to a radio. For the first time since I realized I was on my own, I feel like I can do this. It’s not impossible.
I shove the map into the backpack before slinging it over my shoulders and opening the basement door. I march down the steps, through the piles of clutter. As I look around the room, I let myself take in the walls, the warmth and the safety. There’s a chance I’ll never have to see any of these things again. As I get closer to the giant door, deep dread fills my body and makes me feel as if I’m sinking into the floor. As I round the last corner to face it, I stop in my tracks. Everything I had stacked and placed to barricade the door is gone, as if it had never been there at all. Like someone came down here and cleaned it all up. Could it have been Luke? Was his dream real? Did he actually go into the tunnel?
I take another step toward the door, noticing now that it’s also unlocked. I shake my head, reminding myself not to overthink. I don’t know what waits behind this door, but I do know what’s out in the woods. It’s the only thing that makes this option easy. It’s the only way. I grab one of the flashlights and turn it on before opening the door.
This is it. The beginning of the end. The door is eerily quiet as I struggle to pull it open. It looked so much easier when Luke opened it. I don’t close it behind me, not able to handle the claustrophobic feeling it gives me just thinking about being locked in.
I shine the flashlight around and when it hits the floor, I notice the ground is covered in dirt. I don’t remember it being like this last time. The room feels like a huge time capsule. The walls are covered with black and white photos, newspaper clippings, even some clothing is pinned up. None of it looks even remotely modern. I detour to one of the walls wanting to get a closer look at some of the clippings. They’re all about missing people, kids disappearing into the forests. I don’t know how I didn’t notice all of this last time. I try to reach back into my memory but it's empty. The only thing I can remember is the black tunnel into nothing.
I want to stay in this room longer, exploring and stalling my time away but none of this stuff matters. It won't change anything. The tunnel is waiting for me and I have to face it. My fear and my resolve are fighting an unseen battle in my mind as a thought wanders into my mind. Fate, karma, God, whatever you believe in, it’s cruel. I’ve been wanting and asking to learn how to stand on my own two feet, to not need someone to take care of me, to be my own hero. If I had known that this was how it was going to be delivered, I never would have asked for it. Luke’s life hanging in the balance isn’t worth my need for self-validation. There is no choice and I can’t delay it any longer. I’m going to save him. No matter what.
The light coming from the flashlight barely breaks through the darkness that is permeating through this tunnel. It reminds me of every mineshaft I’ve seen in a horror movie. The dirt around the sides is roughly dug away; the only thing holding it up seems to be the wooden planks wedged into the sides and across the top. Someone took a lot of time and effort to make this, and what for? It’s an answer I’ll probably never get. I guess I’ll take it as good luck that it’s here to help me, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.
The smell has somehow gotten worse since I was last down here. I try to only breathe through my nose as I step inside. My step echoes, making me even more nervous then I was before. I need to try and remember that every move I make is going to be loud.
As I keep walking and shining my light, I notice that every so often there is a lantern hung on the wall. I walk over to one, wanting to get a better look. When I open it up, there are tall, barely-used candles inside and luckily, I have a lighter. I can’t help but smile. I’ll take whatever win I can get and, right now in this place, this feels like a big one. I lower the backpack to the ground and start pulling various items out as I search for the lighter. Why is it that when you’re looking for something in any bag, it’s always at the very bottom?
After I’m done removing almost everything, I decide to try the front pocket. Of course, that’s where it is. Feeling annoyed, I dramatically sigh at myself before standing up to try and light the candle. I struggle to get the lighter to catch. My patience is already low but I don’t give up and after a few strikes I’m able to get the candle burning. The surrounding area illuminates around me. Not a lot, but enough that I can walk over to the other side and light the matching lantern without my flashlight.
As the tunnel becomes more visible, I see clothing and shoes embedded in the walls around me. There is even a silver baby rattle. I look around, mesmerized and horrified. The flickering light casts an unsettling aura in the space, pushing me to want to get moving again. I need to get out of here. I hurry back over to the backpack and start shoving everything back in before moving further into the abyss. It’s hard to step out of the glow of the candles and back into the ominous darkness.
My flashlight’s tiny stream of light seems almost useless in comparison. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, eagerly lighting each lantern as I come to it. The comfort I feel from the candlelight eventually changes to unease when it starts to remind me of how far I’ve been walking and how winding this tunnel is. When I look behind me, I can see the flickering candlelight coming from behind a bend.
I try to remind myself that I have the map now and that even through the twists and turns, I won't get lost. I know where I’m going to come out. I’m as prepared as I can be, all things considered.
_____
It’s hard to keep track of time down here. I tried to count my steps for a while, hoping I could have some idea of how many minutes I’ve been walking but at some point I stopped, getting lost in daydreams instead. While lost in my thoughts I trip on something stuck in the ground. When I point my flashlight toward my feet, a human skull is sticking out of the dirt. It’s buried in such a way that its empty eyes appear to be staring up at me. I cover my mouth with my hand, holding in the scream I feel trying to claw it’s way out.
“What the fuck…” I whisper to myself as I take a few steps back. I start to pace a little as I remind myself that I’m okay. After a few minutes of trying to convince myself to stay calm, I point the flashlight back toward the skull.
Before the beam makes it there, the light catches something above it. It's another doorway-like hole dug halfway up the wall. Smaller than the entrance of the tunnel, almost like a nook of some sort. What is with this place? I slowly walk over, at first unable to see anything except more darkness but as I get closer and the flashlight illuminates more of the space, I see that the giant opening is filled with countless types of bones and small items. Even though I’m beyond freaked out, I also feel unable to look away. I scan through the pile and as I get to the top, I see a ragged, teddy bear with a heart stitched onto its stomach. The intrusive thought that it probably belonged to one of these tiny skulls gets stuck in my mind, but I push it away. I carefully lean into the opening, unable to control my curiosity when I spot what I think is a camera. It’s just out of reach, so I have to lean in further; my body is now almost halfway inside.
There’s an overpowering smell of dirt and decay that threatens to trigger my gag reflex, but before I give in, I grab the camera and back out. I bend over, placing my hands on my knees as I try to get my stomach under control. Once I catch my breath and successfully hold back my vomit, I pry open the screen, realizing it's actually a camcorder. I turn it over a few times, blowing the top layer of dirt off before taking a little time to clean it the best I can.
When I find the power button, the camera lights up instantly. I realize I don’t know how to use it, so I start hitting buttons until an image pops up. It’s a blurry shot of a young boy who is crying. The play button starts flashing, which makes me feel unsettled. I hesitate for a moment before pressing it. When I do, cries fill the space, echoing around me, causing my skin to crawl. Both because of how out of control I feel listening to his small cries, but also because of how scared I feel with how loud he is. I glance around, fumbling with the buttons until I figure out how to turn the volume down. I set it low enough that I have to bring it close to my face to hear him.
“My name is Carson,” he pauses to sob for what feels like an eternity. “I was on a camping trip with my family. They… they’re gone. I don’t know where they are or if they’re still alive. Something has been following us and… and scaring us. I think it took my parents. I went to sleep and when I woke up, I was standing outside of our tent and they were gone. I found a lot of these scattered around our campsite.” He holds up one of the twig dolls before throwing it away from him. “I went searching for my parents but one of the things found me. It chased me until I found this tunnel. I’m hiding in here now. It’s quiet but I can still feel it. It’s watching me right now.”
Another long pause before he continues, “This isn’t my camera. I found it here and I’m sorry to whoever I recorded over, but I need to leave…” A scream comes through the speakers so loudly, it makes a popping noise. The camera falls to the ground and all that’s left is a black screen and the sound of guttural breathing before it ends.