Van awoke to a searing thirst. Groaning hoarsely, he forced his eyes open, audibly cracking the rheum that glued his lashes shut. The back of his hand brushed the cool rock wall. Everything appeared strangely bright. Van could even discern the downy hairs on his forearm. A scab had formed over the wound where the beast’s fangs penetrated his skin.
He vaguely remembered being delirious with fever and having a nightmare.
Last night…
Had it really been just the night before? Van had lost all sense of time. How long did he sleep? The dream had seemed to go on forever, yet even that memory felt nebulous, as if his mind had slipped into some blank space.
I’m hungry…
No. This was not mere hunger. The inside of his stomach felt like it was being roasted on a spit, and the sensation worsened by the second. Van’s hands shook. If he didn’t eat something soon, he might faint. But chained as he was to the wall, he could not go looking for food. He broke out in a fine sweat at the thought of how long he might have to wait for the morning gruel to arrive. He was thirsty, too. And dizzy… Yet those things aside, Van felt more clearheaded than he had in a long time—the clarity that came after sweating out a high fever.
Everything seemed so quiet. The only sounds to be heard were scurrying rats, insects, and the turning of the ventilation fan. No echoes of human voices, no traces of human presence.
Is it still the middle of the night?
An uneasy Van turned away from the wall and staggered to his feet. A shock ran through him at the sight that greeted his eyes.
Corpses lay sprawled across the chamber as far as he could see.
Both the man diagonally across from him and the man chained to the wall beyond had been alive last night. Now they, and every other on this level, were dead. Van knew at a glance that they weren’t merely sleeping. The torch had long since burned to ash, leaving only the faint glow from the shaft for light, yet he could see their faces clearly, still twisted in the agony of death.
Van began to shake in the stillness. His heart pounded, and his throat constricted.
What happened here? What’s going on?
Nothing made any sense. The only thing Van knew for certain was that he had to get out of here. Something inside him implored him to flee. That, and the gnawing hunger in his belly.
Leave. Now. Before it’s too late.
He broke into a dash, only to have his feet whipped from under him as the chain around his right ankle pulled taut with a clang. Van managed to catch himself with both hands before colliding with the rock floor.
Damn!
Anger erupted inside him. Van was filled with revulsion for this thing that held him and wouldn’t let him go. He grabbed the chain and pulled, letting rage fuel his muscles. The metal plate and bolts that attached the chain to stakes driven into the stone screeched in protest. Van knew he could never yank it off, yet he didn’t care. Spurred by a burning rage and bellowing with the effort, Van ground his teeth and pulled. The muscles in his arms and shoulders bulged and trembled.
Suddenly, Van felt one of the thick metal rings of the chain twist like toffee. Before his eyes, the loop widened, then popped, sending him tumbling over backward. He fell on his bottom in a heap of disheveled straw and gazed in amazement at the chain hanging from his hand. Then, coming to his senses, he leaped to his feet and broke into a run, dragging behind the severed length of chain still fastened to his ankle.
The rasping of his breath filled his ears as he raced up the gently sloping tunnel toward the vertical shaft that led to the outside world. He saw light far above. A thick rope swayed in the shaft, suspended from a pulley frame silhouetted against the glow. Grasping the salt-encrusted crossbars of a sturdy wooden ladder, Van hauled himself up rung by rung.
As he approached the upper levels, the shaft grew steadily lighter. When he reached the second level, he heard the tramp of horse hooves.
So it survived…
The horse must have heard him. It snorted and turned its head languidly to gaze at him from its wooden pen erected against the rock wall. Nothing else moved. Squinting, Van surveyed the chamber, but all he could see were dead slaves. He gritted his teeth and continued to climb.
Those beasts… Van pictured the creatures that had attacked the slaves a few days ago.
How had they managed to get down this ladder? No dog or wolf could have done that, let alone climb back up.
Then again…
Van recalled how nimbly the beast had twisted in midair before hitting the wall, turning the rock into a springboard to land on its feet. If its kind could move like that, Van wouldn’t put it past them to scale this narrowly hewn shaft by leaping back and forth from wall to ladder.
What were they?
The slaves died only after they were bitten. They were exhausted from heavy labor, but that alone shouldn’t have wiped out the entire lot. Occasionally, a chamber would fill with poisonous gas expelled from some underground pocket, but if that were the cause, the men sleeping near this shaft should have been spared. Van couldn’t imagine gas killing so many people on different levels.
Everyone had come down with colds and chest-splitting coughs, which Van was pretty sure began after the attack. He chewed his lip as he thought on the way the beasts had bitten each slave with methodical detachment, as if carrying out orders. But… If that was the cause of death, then why am I still alive?
His hand grasped the last rung of the ladder, and he heaved himself over the lip of the shaft and rolled into the chamber that led to the mouth of the mine. He squinted at the entrance. The westering sun dyed the rock wall a pale orange.
Late afternoon already? Not morning? How long did I sleep? Half a day? Even longer?
Van pursed his lips and stepped outside.
Golden light bathed his body. A cool autumn breeze touched his cheeks, and soft sunlight falling through rustling leaves gilded the world around him.
There was no trace of anyone else. The guards who manned the turrets to prevent escape and protect the mine, the slave drivers, and the foremen were nowhere to be seen. The faint drone of flies announced what had become of them.
Van shivered, chilled by the breeze. He had to eat. It didn’t matter what, as long as it was edible. Looking around, he spotted several buildings. When he was first brought here, Van had been blindfolded, and when he and the other slaves had carried salt out of the mine, they were jammed together and closely watched, affording him no chance to look around.