Underland(51)

The weight of the trip had more than caught up with her. Her body screamed to sleep, to rest. To close her eyes and focus on not feeling. She trudged to the far wall and sat against it, pulling her knees up to her chest. The dust got her coughing again, but this time she noticed there was less blood. Which was good. Still, it was painful.

She dropped her head to her knees and closed her eyes, trying to imagine herself in a better situation. Another coughing fit rattled her, and she wiped at her face with her sleeve.

This level of exhaustion was new. It made her crazy emotional, brought on tears of frustration that brimmed in her eyes. She worried about Alice out there with that demon hunting them. She wondered what the Underlords wanted her for. But she tried to think on what Zeke said, focus on the big picture. To do that, alliances would be crucial—and not just with Alice. She needed to build trust with these guys. They had just saved her, again. So she’d give Team Zeken, or whatever, a chance.

Something fell from above and dangled precariously close to her body. Kira jumped back and smacked her head on the silo wall. Her brain practically vibrated. “What the..?” A can of food had dropped thirty feet from above and was dangling in front of her. She really didn’t think she’d get used to that.

“Come.” He beckoned up the ladder.

Now, more than curious, she climbed the ladder and very carefully stepped onto the third-level floor. The two levels below didn’t cover but a portion of the silo—maybe fifteen feet across. She was pretty high up, so she hugged the wall and stayed away from the drop.

Zeke was walking across the beam above her. He lowered a mass of rope and canvas from it. It spun slowly in front of her, and then Zeke climbed down the ropes like Spiderman. He jumped to her floor, a grin of triumph on his face.

“Here.” He gestured to the tangled mass.

Kira scrunched her brow in confusion. But as he pulled the ropes and canvas apart, it unrolled into a shape she quickly recognized. Zeke had crafted a makeshift hammock.

“It’s better than sleeping on the floor. I think the farther we can keep you away from the dirt, the quicker you’ll heal.”

It was beautiful. Thoughtful. The nicest gift anyone had given her in…well, years. She was so overcome with emotion that she stared dumfounded at the hammock. Zeke offered his hand and helped pull her up. He held it steady and helped her to sit in it, to find her center of gravity. Kira laid down and felt her body sway back and forth in the hammock. The gentle rocking movement was comforting.

The thought and effort he’d put into it overwhelmed her. Finally, the dam broke. She cried.

Zeke looked at her confused. “Do you not like it? I know it could have been better, but it’s the only material I found. There’s not much here, as you can see.”

“No, it’s perfect.” She wiped away her tears and gave him a smile. It felt odd to do such a simple thing as smile with happiness. She tried to remember the last time she had felt this happy and grateful—but she couldn’t. “Thank you.”

Zeke returned her smile, and it hit her hard.

Her smile faltered. Something stirred within her chest and beat wildly, not out of fear.

The hammock slowed. Zeke lay down next to it, and she felt the pressure of his hand on the side as he pushed her gently. Was a zombie really rocking her to sleep? Would he eat her if she nodded off? No. If he wanted to eat her, he would have done it already.

This was just a new feeling, a confusing feeling, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Trust.

She didn’t know what to make of it.

She stared upward through the hole in the roof. She could almost imagine seeing stars through the hole, but she knew there were no stars down here. More than likely it was the reflection of diamonds or precious stones in the rocky ceiling. Things like this would catch her by surprise sometimes. Remind her how much she missed the surface, the air, the cool breeze, the sounds of the traffic.

“Have you ever seen stars?”

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen the sky,” he said. “It was very beautiful, but night was nothing compared to your sunrise. Seeing that giant ball of fire rise across the horizon, and watching your world slowly awaken to its call was the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. But the last time I saw it, I couldn’t stay long. I felt overwhelmed, exposed, and it became uncomfortable to stay without feeling a pressure in my chest.”

“Hmm. I wonder why?”

“I think your kind call it agoraphobia. The freshness of the air makes us a little sick, and it takes a bit to adapt.”

She could understand. Her first few days had been like that. But after a while, the lack of natural light and the deep earthy and musty smell that had bothered her faded. She hardly noticed it anymore. She was adapting.

And that scared her.





Chapter 22

Alice flew as fast as she could, carrying the bloodied clothes of her new friends. She’d backtracked toward the compound, hoping to lay the scent trail so Dip could follow her. The closer she got to the compound, the stronger she felt.

A tall man walked on the path right as it narrowed. She had no choice—she rushed right through him, backpack and all.

“Yeow!” The man with spotted hair yelled. Her cold presence probably felt like an ice bath to him. But Alice didn’t have time to worry about it.