“Why… why did he do it?” Abby sobbed, no longer the calm and collected mother of the group.
Ethan knew why. He had tried to take his own life when he was thirteen, haunted by that homeless man no one else could see. The terrible things the bum had told him, the horrible things he had shown him, it was more than any man should have to stand, less a child. However, to explain that to a normal person, one that had not seen it, was just not possible. “He was sick, Hon,” was all he could muster to say to Abby.
Madison stood first, her face streaked in mascara and other photo-ready makeup. She helped pull Abby up to her feet. “I want out of this fucking place,” Madison said through clenched teeth. “Take us out of here, Ethan, right now.” Her voice was bitter with disgust, but not loss.
“What would have made him do that? Really…” Abby pleaded for an answer.
“Don’t worry about it now, Abby. Let’s just get out of here.”
“He cut his own throat, for God’s sake! Who could do that?” Her voice was becoming stronger, angrier as she spoke. Ethan could tell she had met with a crossroads in her mind, one where three of the directions led to madness.
“Abby, look at me,” Ethan said sternly. “It is what he felt he had to do, and it was nothing you did. There was no way to stop him; there was no indication he was going to kill himself. This is not your fault, not my fault, not Madison’s fault. He is dead, and that is what happened.”
“Ethan, number one: do not talk to me like I’m a child. Number two: do you understand the determination you have to have before you can cut your own throat like that? Oh, and, three: he was covered in burns!”
“Yes, Abby, I know, alright?” Ethan spat back. “Now, we have to leave.” Ethan tried to lead her away from the cell.
“We can’t just leave him down here…” Abby pleaded as she craned her neck back to Chris.
“Listen, Abby, how did he get burned like that? Answer that, then ask yourself if you are coming with me or not!” Madison’s voice was becoming hysterical.
“I think it would be best if we all went,” Ethan added.
“We’ll call the police as soon as we get a signal on the phone,” Madison said in an attempt to convince her friend.
“Fine, it’s settled; now let’s get out of here,” Ethan said as he pulled her toward the end of the passage. It seemed much longer than it had when they came down, the end lost to the darkness.
After many moments, Abby planted her feet firmly, stopping the others. “Were all these cells here before?”
Ethan looked around like Madison was going. “I did not notice them before, but I was just trying to get to Chris.”
“I don’t think they were here,” Madison said worriedly.
“We should have reached the end,” Abby sent her flashlight’s beam down the passage, “and I don’t even see it.” The bite in her voice was beginning to mellow with fear again.
Ethan turned back to where they had come from, and the flashlight, left with Chris in his barred tomb was no longer visible. “What the…?”
“Alright, stop,” Abby commanded, once more in her mother’s voice, but clearly upset and afraid. “How the hell did we get lost in a straight passageway? We went back the way we came, right? Or did we go the wrong direction?”
“We went the right way, I’m sure. Chris was on the right side as we were coming, and then on the left when we were leaving.”
“I’m getting confused, guys,” Madison whined.
“Let’s go back the other way. How we went the wrong way, I’ll never know.” Abby turned and started out on her own.
“Abby! I know we went the right way. We had to!” Ethan shouted as he began to follow her, more important to keep everyone together then back tracking. “Abby, wait!”
In a few short steps, they came to a hole, a large hole with an iron rung ladder fixed into the stone, rusted and gritty looking. There was no way around it but to try to leap over, which was not an attractive idea considering the drop.
“This is just fucking peachy,” Abby said. “Have I gone insane or something?”
“Maybe,” Ethan said just under his breath. “But if you have, you are not alone.”
“How did we get lost? Guys, really, I want to get out of here,” Madison whimpered.
“Back the other way. This is really sick,” Abby said.
They did not make it back more than a few yards before another of the holes presented itself, the top rusted rung bent slightly. “I’m getting really scared now,” Abby whispered to Ethan.
“Yeah, me, too,” Ethan agreed. He dropped his pack and drew out a length of orange rope and the nickel- plated revolver. He shoved the revolver in his waistband and offered one end of the rope to Abby.
“What’s this for?”
“If we tie ourselves together, we won’t become separated. Either of you two have a cell phone?”
“Mine’s with my stuff,” Madison said.
“No,” Abby replied simply.
“Well, let’s just stay close together and find our way out. How big is this prison, Abby?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t know anything about it until Brighton told us.”
“It appears to be huge. I can see sixteen cells in either direction, and I know there are more, and there is another floor beneath us with more cells maybe. It’s just seems like a lot of prison space for captured troops.”
“I really don’t know,” Abby responded weakly. “Maybe they surrendered in battalions back then or something.”
“Alright. I’ll go down first, since it’s the only direction we seem to be able to go in, and I’ll let you know if it is safe.”
“Are you going to tie yourself to us?” Abby asked.
“No, I might fall or something. I don’t want to drag you in behind me.”
“You know this place isn’t…I don’t know…right?” Abby asked almost under her breath.
“I know.” Ethan placed his foot on the first rung and tested it to make sure it could hold his weight. It did, so he tried the next, and then the next until he found himself some twenty feet below the girls and their flashlights.
He found himself in a large room, this time with some sporadic fixtures. The pieces had succumbed to decay and age unlike the house above. From here, four wooden doors led in four different directions.
The oddest thing in the room was an enormous wooden cross leaning in one corner. It was made of wood and nailed together with large, block-headed iron nails. The wood was worked sloppily into a semblance of art, but so poorly as to make it look almost like someone was belittling its symbolism. He signaled the girls to come down while he went to inspect it.
As he expected, at the ends of the crossbeam and near the base, he found stains of a ruddy brown color, almost rust. He knew this had to be old blood, dried and absorbed into the wood. The idea of crucifying people so recently disturbed Ethan greatly, and he jumped when Madison dropped to the earthen floor.
Abby came down shortly after and they began to inspect the room from where they were, using their flashlights like holy relics ordained to ward the bearer from evil. Near the center and cut into the rock under the sandy floor was a hole suited to hold the large cross erect, satisfying Ethan’s questions as to if crucifixion actually did happen and the idea of it not a product of his slowly warping mind.
Abby approached the door closest to her and peered through the tiny window filled with rusting bars. Just beyond was a room, dark and ominous, with what her flashlight revealed to be a large wooden bed. Chains hung from the ceiling and draped to or close to the floor. Odd stains scarred the walls with a dark rust color. As she searched the floor with her light, she hovered on what looked to be a small white stick, dull and a bit dirty. Just before moving on, she realized it was the skeletal remains of a finger and screamed for the others’ attention.
“This must be where they tortured the soldiers,” Ethan thought aloud.
“This place is sick…actually I think I’m going to be sick…” Abby said around a mouth too full of spit.
“Can we go now?” Madison asked, clearly agitated.
“Yeah, let’s check the other doors. You know, I just thought of something: did you say, Abby, that they put a road up to here back in the fifties?” Ethan wondered.
