I think about it. I guess I’m not as big a thinker as Roc. I’m so focused on my own little world, my own feelings, that I don’t really consider whether we could—or whether we should—do anything to help other people, particularly the moon and star dwellers. I think back to before my heart was revived—when I saw Adele for the first time. At that point I would’ve brushed off Roc’s words like pesky gnats. After all, I hated my own life so much that I couldn’t worry about the miserable lives of others. But now, because of my unexpected feelings for a moon dweller, albeit one I’ve never met, Roc’s words resonate powerfully with me.
Despite the plethora of thoughts running through my head, all I reply is, “Maybe you’re right.”
“As usual,” Roc says.
We have no idea where we are, so we just keep walking in a straight line, hoping to emerge from the Lonely Caverns soon. We still have plenty of food in the pack—our moon dweller captors hadn’t even bothered to empty it out. Still, if we don’t find our way out soon we’ll have little chance of tracking down Adele.
Thus, I am ecstatic when we run into one of the main tunnels through the caverns. I am cautious, too, because I have no idea where our captors were headed—for all I know they might be just in front of or behind us, waiting to pounce. We move swiftly through the main tunnel without incident, meeting no other travelers.
It is late at night when we reach the exit to subchapter 16, the land of the waterfall caves. Although we’ve received no authorization to travel within the Moon Realm, we purchased some fake papers before leaving the Sun Realm. As we use them at the border, I keep my head lowered and my hat on to ensure I’m not recognized.
At long last we are back to civilization. Or at least the closest to civilization that my father’s ridiculous taxes allow the moon dwellers to be. The subchapter is dark, but has a decent number of street lights. I can’t speak for Roc, but I am desperate for a real bed.
We head for the commercial district. I can vaguely remember the city zoning—a domed, circular cave with a reservoir around the outside and the city built outwards from the center—from my previous visits, but Roc remembers far better, so I let him lead.
Although we feel relatively safe, we stick to the shadows, avoiding passing directly by any late-night strollers, and choose a deserted street from which to select a hotel. And it’s a good thing we are careful. We’ve just taken a shortcut through a seedy alley, and are about to turn onto a main street, when we hear a chorus of footsteps moving toward us.
We shrink back into the alley, deep into the shadows, and peer to the street beyond. A group of sun dweller troops—at least eight—run past us, moving toward the city center. I only see the leader for a moment as he flashes by, but I’d recognize him anywhere.
Rivet is back in the game.
Chapter Seventeen
Adele
“They’re here!” Tawni exclaims.
“Who?” I ask, above the roar of the waterfall.
Tawni and Elsey splash into the water to join us. They are breathing hard, already soaked from head to toe like us, a result of jumping through the series of waterfalls.
“Rivet, I think,” Tawni says. “We heard them coming down the tunnel. A man was talking—I think I recognized his voice from the telebox.” Tawni’s eyes are wide and white.
“We don’t know that they’ll come through the waterfalls,” Cole says.
“Yes, they will,” I say. “They’ll have maps. They wouldn’t have wandered down this tunnel by mistake. It’s probably a shortcut or something.”
“But how will they get down?” Elsey asks. Her eyebrows are raised and her head cocked to the side. She looks more like a child than she has since we rescued her, innocent and naïve.
“They might have ropes,” I say. “But we don’t.”
Finally, Cole agrees with the opinion I had already voiced. “We’ve got to jump.”
“And it’s got to be fast,” I second. “They could come through any moment.” I glance at the waterfall, expecting Rivet’s scarred face to emerge from the water in slow motion, his teeth replaced with fangs, his fingers sporting daggers for nails.
The waterfall remains untouched.
I feel like the hourglass on our lives is all but empty. We don’t have time to sit around sipping tea and eating muffins and discussing the pros and cons of jumping off a cliff into untested waters. Plus we don’t have any muffins. Nor tea.
“Me first, then El, Tawni, and Cole,” I bark. I don’t have time to wait for agreement from the others. Waiting means death.
I step up and jump, not allowing myself any time to chicken out.
I should’ve at least thought about how I would jump. In my mind I’d pictured a perfect swan dive, floating through the air with grace and elegance. But my body instinctively tries to go straight down, feet first. Because of my uncertainty, I end up halfway in between, my body horizontal, chest facing down.
Belly flop time.
My heart is in my throat, and I am feeling something between utter fear and complete elation. There is no time to think, but at the last minute I try to turn my body to improve my landing. It doesn’t help.
When my shoulder hits the water I think I might’ve jumped too far and landed on the stone—that’s how hard the impact is. Rather than a splash, I make more of a vicious thwap! when I enter the water. Pain shoots through the nerves in my shoulder, running quickly down my arm and into my hand. When I feel myself sinking, however, I realize it is the water that has literally put the smack-down on me.
The water closes in around me and I am transported into the belly of my childhood nightmares. Falling down the well; thrashing in the water; sinking into oblivion; no way out. It has been a long time since I’ve felt scared of water. Growing up, my dad forced me to conquer my fear, taught me to swim. Slowly, I grew to love the feeling of water rushing around my body. No! There is no well—not this time. I can escape this nightmare.
Ignoring the pain and bad memories, I kick upwards. Once, twice, thrice: finally breaking the surface. I want to scream with pain, but I hold it inside me, trying to get through it by punching the water with my uninjured arm.
I look up and realize I am still directly below the tunnel entrance. By kicking hard, I manage to get far enough away from the landing zone that I won’t accidentally break someone’s fall with my head.
I see Elsey jump. Her launch is more timid than mine was, but is far more effective. She drops feet first in a perfect pencil dive, barely making a splash as she cuts through the water. Although I watch closely in case she needs help, I’m not worried about her; like me, El is a strong swimmer, and clearly a better jumper. A few seconds later she bobs up, smiling, like it is just a normal day down at the swimming hole.
“That was glorious, wasn’t it?” Elsey says, swimming over.
“Not the word I would choose,” I mumble, rubbing my shoulder while treading water using only my feet.
Seconds later, Tawni’s white hair whooshes from above as she executes the perfect swan dive that I’d imagined for myself. “Just great,” I say, my shoulder hurting worse than ever. Or perhaps it is my pride. It is definitely one or the other.
At least I did better than Cole, whose big dark body flails down from above like he is being attacked by an angry horde of flapping bats. In the meantime Tawni has resurfaced, so we all have a good laugh when Cole creates a liquid mountain upon smacking into the water.
My laughter doesn’t last long, however, as a minute passes and Cole has yet to reach the surface. Even under the dim glow provided by the overhead cavern lights, the water looks as black as oil.
I squeal as something grabs me, pulling me under. I kick away from my attacker and come up spluttering. Tawni and Elsey are laughing.