In The Town Where All Things Are Possible: Part 25
Need To Catch Up?
Underneath The Town Where All Things Are Possible, Alexandria’s scream locked up inside her throat. As they fell, the Man clung to her as she clung to the box, water glittering all around them.
They crashed into steel. A frail bridge crumpled under their weight, the braces snapping on one end. The bridge bowed and tipped toward the void, then held. The Man lost grip of Alexandria and rolled along the bridge toward the gaping edge. His hand caught a handrail just as his body rolled over. He hung above God’s Blowhole. Alexandria braced herself from above, one arm wrapped around a handrail, the other tight around the box. From beneath, she felt the warmth emanating up from the chasm, just as she had before.
“Jeffrey!” Alexandria called.
“I’m fine,” he said, sweeping his other hand up to the rail, then pulling a foot up to the edge of the bridge. “Hold on, I’ll be up there in a minute.”
The sunlight poured down on them as the stream fell like a hard rain. She could see blood seeping from the Man’s shoulder and left thigh. He only used his right leg to climb as the left hung, limp and broken.
“Where is he?” Alexandria called. “Can he get to us in here?”
“Yes I can, little girl.”
Alexandria jerked her head up towards the voice. There the killer stood, at the bridge’s base. He watched them, knife held out and ready. In his other hand was the flashlight, turned backwards as a blunt weapon.
“Hand me the wishes and I will let Jeffery live,” the killer said.
“Leave her alone,” the Man replied. “We will work this out.”
The Man climbed up another railing and the bridge shook. Alexandria scanned the walls around, looking for options. The hole was massive, at least thirty feet across, the walls were smooth. The killer stood on an artificial walkway that wrapped along the wall and stopped twenty feet below them. It circled all the way up God’s Blowhole as it narrowed, finally stopping at the small grate where the sunlight poured in. They were on the only bridge that led across the expanse. She considered dropping down to the walkway along the wall beneath her, but there were no other tunnels to escape into. She would still be trapped.
The killer knelt down, placing the flashlight on the ground, then reached out his hand.
“Hand it to me,” the killer said.
Alexandria looked down to the Man.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Alexandria, don’t!”
She threw the box.
“No!” the killer shouted.
The box tumbled down God’s Blowhole. The lid fluttered off and the cards poured out, some fluttering free of the box and spinning away from the waterfall, others tumbling into the abyss.
The killer backed away from the bridge. He began a quick retreat up the walkway. Unsure, he stopped and gazed down into the hole.
“Hurry!” the Man shouted.
Alexandria climbed up the bridge to the walkway. She held her hand down for the Man as he struggled up through the falling water. He took her hand and she pulled him to the edge, careful not to lose grip of his soaked palm. Alexandria grabbed the flashlight and stood up to face the killer. He still watched the hole, waiting for God’s answer.
“You’ve killed us,” the killer whispered, just above the sound of the rushing water.
The Man used the walkway railing to pull himself up onto his one good foot. Water and blood soaked his left side.
Alexandria pulled his right arm over her shoulder and helped him limp up the walkway. She held the flashlight ready as they neared the killer. Her eyes on the knife still clutched in the killer’s hand.
“Go,” the killer said, not looking at them. “It no longer matters. None of us will survive.”
The killer turned to Alexandria.
“Hell is coming, little girl.”
The killer climbed over the railing, took a deep breath, then leapt over the side. He fell into God’s Blowhole with his arms out wide as a child falling into his father’s waiting hands.
Alexandria listened for the impact, but heard nothing. He simply vanished.
“Hurry,” the Man grunted.
She helped him up the winding walkway, his broken leg dragging behind. As they progressed upwards, she intermittently looked down into the hole, waiting for something to happen.
They reached a tunnel cut into the wall of God’s Blowhole. A chill crept from the tunnel. Further above, she could see the storm sewer where the killer had first tried to take her life. Where she’d been saved by The Man’s card fluttering down from the grate.
“In here,” the Man said, motioning to the tunnel. Frigid air met them in the darkness. Alexandria turned on the flashlight, illuminating a long stone tunnel with frost covering the walls. Further in, horizontal chambers were cut into the stone, three high on both sides. Hundreds of them.
“Go!” the Man urged.
They moved deeper into the tunnel as the temperature continued to drop. The Man shivered violently as she could see the moisture on his clothes turning to frost. They reached the first series of chambers and Alexandria trained the flashlight beam on them.
Bodies laid on their backs, heads positioned toward God’s Blowhole. Their hands were pressed together, as if praying. Between their palms was a single piece of paper. All men, all wearing white robes.
“It’s our catacomb,” the Man said as he hopped forward on his one good leg while leaning against Alexandria.
All of the men’s faces seemed fresh, preserved, though chilled. No decay. As they passed the chambers, she saw the slips of papers replaced by notecards, the same that the Man used.
In the last occupied slot, she saw the killer. Hands pressed together, a card between the palms, eyes closed. Alexandria steadied the beam on him, her breath held, waiting for him.
“He won’t bother us again,” the Man said, urging her forward.
They moved on, past dozens of empty chambers, one of which waited for the Man.
They reached a turn and the chill faded quickly, she swung the flashlight back through the catacombs toward God’s Blowhole.
God remained silent.
“What’s going to happen?” Alexandria asked.
“Keep moving.”
The passed into another, smaller room with a spiraling staircase. The Man gritted his way up thirty steps before reaching another tunnel.
Alexandria kept listening for the hell the killer promised, but only heard the water rushing underneath. More tunnels came, the Man hobbling forward with Alexandria’s help. He was leaning heavier on her as the blood continued to seep from his leg.
“What’s going to happen?” Alexandria asked again but received no answer.
An iron door appeared ahead. Alexandria hurried their pace. The Man leaned away from her and against the handle. He looked to Alexandria. He reached his hurt arm up, his hand cupping her cheek, leaving a stain of blood. She moved toward him. The kiss was soft and it loitered for several heavy heartbeats. He pulled his lips back, but held his forehead to hers.
“You were worth it,” he said.
He leaned away, lifted the latch, then pulled the door open.
Alexandria leaned around him to see what horror she’d inflicted on the Town.
CONTINUE …
