A Dark Grave (The Elysium Chronicles 0.5)(5)

“Even if they are dead, we need to find them. To give their families a sense of closure if nothing else.” As soon as I say it, I know I’m thinking more of my father and how we don’t really know what happened to him. From Conn’s face, I can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

Finally, he nods. “Let’s go check it out.”

After only a few hundred feet, the tunnel opens up enough to stand up in and walk side-by-side with Conn. We don’t talk, except to decide which route to take when there’s a fork in the tunnels.

We leave markings on the ground so we know which turns we take.

At several of the junctures we find more objects from whoever came before us. We race forward, more excited each time we find something new.

It isn’t long before we realize that we were so excited about finding the artifacts that we forgot to keep marking the paths we took. But we barely have time to worry about that – suddenly there are footprints everywhere. We can’t tell whether we’re coming or going and now we’re thoroughly lost.

My head and shoulder pound from the fall, and my body aches everywhere. It feels like I’m coming down with the flu. I really just want to lie down in my bed and sleep.

We wander for hours--at least I think it’s hours. I’ve lost all track of time. I have to wonder if we’re not wandering in circles. It’s so damn hard to tell which way is which; everything looks the same.

I find myself stumbling more and more with each step I take. Several times, I have to stop and lean against the wall as the entire world spins around me and darkness bleeds into the sides of my vision.

Finally, Conn stops. “We should rest awhile,” he says.

I don’t argue. I’m not sure I have the energy, even if I wanted to, to go on.

I use the wall to slowly lower myself to the ground. Even then, the entire room spins and I’m pretty sure I black out for a minute or two, because when I blink Conn goes from standing to kneeling next to me and I never saw him move.

“What’s up?” I ask.

He shines the flashlight over my arm. “I’m checking out your wounds. You look really sick.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he gives me a look and I sigh. “I feel like shit.”

He doesn’t say anything until he’s looked at all my cuts and scrapes.

“You probably have a concussion.”

I groan. “Wonderful.”

“We need to get out of here.”

“Noticed.”

“So…how do we do it?”

My head pounds and I fight the urge to close my eyes. “Do you think I would be wandering around here if I didn’t have to be?”

As soon as I say it, I regret it. Conn’s face hardens before he looks away.

“Um. I’m sorry,” I say. “That was uncalled for.” Especially since it was my bright idea to start wandering around the tunnels in the first place.

“Whatever, man.” He shrugs.

I don’t know what else to say, so I don’t say anything. My eyes fall closed again and I force them open.

Connor is now sitting across the tunnel from me, his legs stretched out, his arms crossed behind his head. He appears to have been sitting there a while.

I blink again and then he’s tugging on my arm. “Come on. I don’t think you’re supposed to be sleeping with a concussion.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” I protest, but it’s only half-hearted.

He laughs and pulls me up to my feet. “Whatever you say, Sleeping Beauty.”

Grateful he doesn’t appear to be angry at me anymore, I lightly punch him on the arm. At least, that’s the intention, except instead of tapping his shoulder, I miss by several inches and pitch forward.

“Whoa!” He quickly catches me and keeps his arm under mine to steady me.

“We should keep walking. Find a way out of here.” My voice is barely a whisper because of how tired I am. “The sooner we get out of this cave, the better.”

Connor nods and starts forward, keeping his arm around my waist. I’m grateful he’s not mad at me anymore. There’s no way I’d be able to keep walking without his support.

I don’t know how long we spend walking, but it feels like days. I’m feeling sicker by the minute, and I’m sure we’re no closer to finding our way out than we were when we first got lost.

Damn wounds. Damn fall. Damn, effing island!

Half the time, it feels like my whole body is boiling, the rest of the time I’m freezing. My shoulder and head scream at me to just stop. To give up. But I can’t. I have to get home and take care of my family.

If I die, there’ll be no one to bring home food for them. Tristan’s still too young to bring back the big game and I haven’t spent enough time teaching him what he needs to know.

I make a promise to whoever’s listening that I’ll take the time as soon as I get back. And that I’ll do more to make Mom happier. I’ll even try to spend more time ‘working on my social life.’

Just as I think I can’t walk any further, we hit a dead end. I want to groan.

Connor shines his light at the dead end and I blink when I see that the dead end isn’t a dead end at all. It’s a door!

The question is, where does it lead?

Conn places his hand on the handle, and feeling of dread erupts in the pit of my stomach. But before I can stop him, Conn’s tugging on the door.