In The Town Where All Things Are Possible: Part 24
Need To Catch Up?
Underneath The Town Where All Things Are Possible, Alexandria plunged into the darkness of the underground sewage system. Behind her, she heard the Man Who Held The Town Together banging the heavy door of the vault of wishes, trying to push the door free of the cart wedged against it. She also heard the elevator groan awake. She assumed it was going to retrieve the killer.
Sulfur and methane smells overwhelmed Alexandria as she slowed to a stop. She pulled the neck of her shirt over her mouth and nose, re-gripped the box of dangerous wishes and peered into the darkness. Faint hints of light could be discerned, one dim beam directly in front of her and another glow to her left. All the rest was black. She heard water flowing, but it seemed distant. Something small, probably a rat, was tapping its claws against concrete as it scuttled around nearby.
She walked on, one careful footstep after another, choosing the light directly in front of her. She could hear that she was approaching the flowing water, feeling the moisture in the air. Her foot found the edge of the concrete before her. She paused, sliding her the soul of her shoe along the side, then dipping her toe down to search for a step, but she found none. The water was below her, somewhere.
A hum arose, weary but building. A lightbulb popped awake to her left, then another, and another, lighting up a long tunnel. She stood at the edge of a thirty-foot drop into an underground stream.
Alexandria gasped and backed against a wall. A colony of bats fell from the ceiling, circling the tunnel and fleeing past Alexandria. She froze and clutched the box tight while the flurry swept past her and disappeared along a side tunnel.
Her breath calmed and she opened her eyes. She examined two side tunnels where the light had appeared. The one before her was on the other side of the underground stream. To the left, another tunnel was carved into a massive stone wall. The river had burrowed out an opening in the wall’s base where it streamed out and along the bed, disappearing into another stone wall where a third tunnel followed the water on the far side. A steel bridge was the only way across the expanse. Though the promise of light was enticing, she knew the stream led to God’s Blowhole, so she chose to follow the water. She walked to the bridge to cross to the far edge.
The drop beside her made her equilibrium swirl. She held the box tighter, as if it was an anchor. The steel bridge creaked under the weight of her first step. She leaned heavily on the bridge, testing its strength. The rusted metal groaned, but held. The elevator rumbled in the distance, then fell silent. She knew the killer was underground with her. He knew the tunnels. She had to hurry.
She took another step, softly. Another. The steel squeaked with every shifting weight.
Shouting bounced through the tunnels. The Man and the killer. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but perhaps it was buying her more time.
She quickened her pace as she reached the far edge, her last two steps clanging against the steel. The shouting stopped.
She was on the far side, now skirting along the wall, passing the middle tunnel on her left and moving alongside the stream toward the tunnel dug into the wall. Then she was through, in darkness once more and surrounded by stone. She pushed forward, still hearing the stream, perhaps a waterfall further on. She hurried for a few steps then forced herself to slow down, remembering how close she’d come to stepping off the path’s edge. With each step, she slid her feet tentatively forward to ensure they’d remain on solid ground.
Several long minutes passed before the walls opened up beside her. She could hear the stream directly beneath where she stood. And from behind, another sound: the clanging of running feet on the steel bridge.
Her toe found the edge of a drop. To her left, artificial bounced through a doorway, illuminating a small patch of the concrete walkway and casting weak shadows on the walls around the open area.
The light fluttered as something moved in front of it. Soft footsteps crossed the other side of the chasm, opposite her walkway. She saw a shadow moving along the far wall. Alexandria remained still, taking shallow, quiet breaths as she listened to the footsteps and watched the shadow.
“Alexandria!” the Man called. “Run!”
Fabric rustled behind her and shoes stepped into a lunge. Alexandria ran to the right, feeling fingers grip her shoulder. She jerked free and ran down the descending walkway. She wanted to slow, terrified of falling off the edge, but could hear the killer at her heels.
Footsteps crossed above her as the Man’s shadow sprinted along the far wall. Lights popped to life ahead of Alexandria, beaming out from another tunnel cut into the rock. Alexandria glanced up and saw the Man curving around a rounded wall in front of her, about ten feet above her walkway. He leaped off, over her head and crashed against the killer. They pounded against the wall. Alexandria spun around, seeing the two men tangled only a few feet behind her. The killer winced in pain as blood dripped from his scalp.
“Keep running!” the Man called.
The killer turned against the wall, then kicked against the Man.
The Man fell backwards, arms flailing, grasping at air as he tumbled off the walkway. He twisted his body to reach for the ledge, his fingers streaked across the concrete in a last, desperate attempt.
But failed.
He was swallowed whole by the darkness below. Alexandria screamed, wild and uncontrolled. A pitiful wail that faded into a sob. The killer looked over the ledge as they both waited for the sound of the Man crashing into anything. But they heard nothing. The Killer’s legs buckled slightly. He rubbed blood from his eyes, then looked to Alexandria.
Alexandria shot back around and sprinted down the lit tunnel, choking back sobs and clinging to the box.
The tunnel plunged for thirty feet until reaching stairs that led upwards—the wrong direction, she was certain. She took the only other option, a smaller, unlit tunnel that led down toward the sounds of rushing water.
Footsteps were behind her. The light followed her into the tunnel, showing a sudden right turn. Faint light bounced into a long expanse where the sound of the stream returned, along with a fine mist. She thought she could hear the waterfall.
She also knew that the Man’s body was somewhere below. She stepped close to the edge of the walkway and peered down. Aside from the glimmering reflection off of a few wet rocks, the bottom was just an empty void of shadows.
“Jeffery?” she called, her voice wavering. “Jeffrey, please, answer me.”
She took a deep, trembling breath, closed her eyes and listened. No breathing below, no footsteps behind, only rushing water.
She pried her eyes open again, but found that the light from the distant tunnel had went out. She proceeded carefully along the path.
The water was below her now. Her foot touched another steel bridge. She ventured another step forward, leaning her weight on her foot, hoping the bridge would hold. She continued.
A clang and the bridge rattled from the other side of the bridge.
“You’ve got spirit, little girl, but no more running.”
A beam of light exploded in Alexandria’s face. The killer moved the flashlight away as her eyes blurred and refocused. She looked back to him, standing just ten feet away. She read the “Hope” scar branded into the side of his face. The water flowed just underneath the bridge and underneath another stone wall.
Alexandria looked behind her to the tunnel beyond. She glanced over the side of the bridge, barely discerning rocks along the stream, but no sign of the Man’s body.
The flashlight blinked out and his footsteps clanged against the steel bridge. Alexandria rolled over the bridge’s handrail and plunged into the stream.
Bitterly cold and foul waters swept her forward. She thought only of the box, her arms hugging it tightly while her legs kicked her above the waters. The flashlight burned alive and swept across the stream. Alexandria turned, meeting the killer’s dumbfounded gaze as she sped toward the stone wall.
Another figure emerged from underneath the bridge, limping on one good leg toward the stream.
“Get your head down!” the Man shouted before he dropped into the rushing water.
Alexandria held her breath and dipped below the water just as the stream pulled her beneath the wall. The current jostled her around. Her shoes couldn’t grip against the smooth stone of the stream bottom. She freed a hand from the box and reached for the walls, but her fingers slid against the slick walls. The rush of the waterfall approached and she began flailing her arms for anything to cling to.
An arm wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her against his chest. They hurtled forward.
The light of God’s Blowhole appeared just as the lovers tumbled down into its depths.
CONTINUE …
