Chapter One: The Deep, Dark Underground

The dirt walls were closing in and the dust was so thick it was difficult to take a single breath. His body heaved, racked with coughs and laced with panic. The light was flickering out. He tried to run, but every direction he tried sent him into a wall of rock closer than the last. This was it, he was-

“Ezie!” The shout came from a different world. “Ez, wake up!” He blinked his eyes open, but everything was still moving. He shot up, not yet realizing the nightmare had ended. Breathing heavily and shiny with a thin sheet of sweat covering his body, he looked around with wild eyes until they came to rest on a different pair. They were big with concern and a familiar dark blue, veiled in long dark blonde curls.

“Gretchen,” he groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “What are you doing in here?”

“You were having another nightmare,” his sister said, sweeping a curl behind her ear. “I could hear you clear across the house!” she paused and examined him in his drained state. In a lower voice, she added, “Was it another cave in?” He glanced at her and nodded, head hanging. “Well,” she continued, “I’ll leave you be. Hopefully you didn’t wake up mom and Jonathan,” she said, glancing back at the door. “It’s almost time to wake up anyway. I’ll make you some eggs and toast.” she smiled and left his room.

Ezekiel watched Gretchen leave and sighed, sinking back down. Gretchen was only 14, but she acted much older. He supposed they were both forced to grow up too fast. When Ezekiel was twelve and Gretchen was only six, their father was killed in a mine collapse. That’s when the nightmares began. Gretchen was too little to understand completely, or to remember him much since he was gone so much. So when their mother, Rose, and Ezekiel became wrought with grief, she developed a sense of responsibility over them that kind of stuck. Even when their mother was back on her feet, she gave more attention to her work and new husband, Jonathan, than she did to her children. So, Gretchen took on most of the cooking and cleaning. She didn’t seem to mind, but Ezekiel helped whenever he had a chance. He was usually busy studying ancient technology and creatures now extinct. He was the more knowledgeable in the field than his classmates, or the entire school, for that matter. His mother worked at the college, but only acknowledged his success occasionally. He figured he and his sister reminded her too much of their father, feelings she wished t avoid. He didn’t take it too personally.

Now, as he sat in bed regaining himself, he looked around until he caught sight of the mirror over his dresser. His shirtless chest gleamed with sweat as much as his face did. He was still breathing heavier than normal, though he was returning to a calmer state. Hs hair was wild and he reached up to smooth it down, taking a deep breath. He threw the covers off himself and made his way to the closet.

He was tall, about 6’ 2”, and lean, often mistaken for scrawny with the modest clothing he wore. His hair was a dark golden color, similar to his sister’s, though instead of curly, it was pin straight. He had it short on the sides and long on top, done up just enough to keep it out of his face, which had a long shape and high cheek bones. His eyes were hazel, changing between golden brown and forest green depending on his surroundings and mood.

He dug through his neat closet until he had each piece of today’s outfit thrown haphazardly onto the end of his bed. The choices consisted of black slacks, a denim button up shirt and a light brown-gray tweed blazer. His accessories included dress shoes, suspenders, a bowtie, and a scarf, all the same shade of light brown.

The smell of eggs and burning toast brought a smile to his face. He threw the scarf around his neck last thing and made his way out of his door and into the kitchen. There were two lovely set ups of fried eggs and sausage on the table, each complete with a tall glass of orange juice. Gretchen was hovering over the toaster, trying to get the black toast out with one hand while using the other to wave the smoke out of her face, coughing. “Toast! The one thing I can’t get right!”

Ezekiel chuckled and walked over, picking up the entire toaster and dumping it upside down into the trash can, setting it carefully back on the counter. “There.”

Gretchen pouted and put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You’re just not as smart as I am yet,” Ezekiel teased, making his way over to his own plate. He pulled the chair out and sat neatly, gesturing for Gretchen to join him. She walked over in a huff and sat down, stabbing a sausage violently with her fork before looking up at him.

“Well don’t you look dashing today! You’ll fit right in with all the bourgeois at the town meeting!” she pointed out.

He neatly cut up one of his sausages and looked at her in surprise. “I completely forgot about that,” he admitted. “What time is it again? One?”

“One thirty,” Gretchen corrected. “I was wrong about you waking up mom and Jonathan, by the way. They already left.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “For the meeting? What time is it?”

“One thirty,” she answered nonchalantly with a mouth full of eggs.

“Gretchen!” Ezekiel shouted, standing up from his chair and grabbing her hand and pulling her from her chair and over to the front door, which he swung open.

“Hey!”” She cried in protest. “I didn’t get to finish my orange juice!”

“It’ll be here when you get back, but we have to go,” Ezekiel insisted, pulling a sweater of hers off the coat rack and tossing it to her. They rushed out the door to find the street outside their house practically deserted. They lived right by the college and train tracks were hardly one hundred yards from their front door. Despite the fact that the trains travels in their own electrically powered tunnels, on weekdays it woke him up at six o’clock sharp every morning. Today, however, was sunday, and that particular train did not run on weekends, which meant they would have to walk to town hall. It only took about ten minutes on a bad day, but they sped through the empty streets nevertheless. The walls in the shady shortcuts they took were lit only with torches instead of string of electric light overhead like most tunnels were.

As they approached town hall, roars of a crowd ahead were becoming more obvious. They opened the doors to the magnificent building once they reached it. The doors were stained glass as well as the windows, and the vaulted ceiling was high and domed. The place was big enough to fit every inhabitant of the underground standing, which it currently was. There was a crowd on the floor as well as up in the balconies.

Holding tight to Gretchen’s hand, Ezekiel pushed his way through the chattering people until they were close enough to see the mayor make his announcement high up in a balcony outfitted only for the speaker.

“Excuse me, can we all settle down a moment now?” Mayor Somerland’s voice came booming out of the speakers and the buzz of words instantly died down into eerie silence. The mayor was a short man, hardly taller than the microphone he spoke into. He was quite round and had white hair with a mustache to match. He was wearing a gray suit and round glasses, which he adjusted slightly before he continued to read off the paper he held before him.

“As you all may well know by now,” he began, squinting at the words he was to read. “There have been numerous sightings of potential life on the surface. As you may not know, I, as well as my colleagues, have decided upon a course of action. We have come up with operation Iota Beta, which will send four young and qualified explorers, two men and two women, to confirm our suspicions. The names in this envelope were chosen at random from among the people deemed most fit to be sent on this journey with the best chances of a satisfying outcome.” He held up a pale green envelope of cardstock sealed with red wax.

Gretchen smiled excitedly and clasped her hands together. “Oh, Ezekiel! A trip to the surface! Can you even imagine?” She had always had a fascination with discovery of the unknown, especially when it came to the surface. She hated being surrounded by dirt all the time. She wanted to see the sky, the oceans, the animals. Ezekiel, on the other hand, had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was never much for change and leaving everything he’d ever known was quite unsettling. All he could offer in response was a half-hearted smile and a small nod.

They watched in anticipation as Mayor Somerland unfolded the envelope and adjusted his glasses. The entire hall was in complete and utter silence. “Charlotte Kingsbury,” was the first name to echo off the walls. The entire room tensed, waiting for the next. “Vincent Fellowes.” Still silent. “Margrette Clermont.” Wait. Ezekiel recognized the name. He knew her. In fact, he had seen her on the way in. He looked around until he spotted a familiar head seen through the crowd. Her long blonde hair was up in a straight ponytail. Her hands were clasped in front of her and her eyes, though wet with tears, looked as if they had accepted their fate. She seemed to try to see the bright side, but he wondered if she could see none.

Suddenly, his attention was taken from her when he felt burning eyes on his back and heard a gasp escape Gretchen. She looked up at him with a similar look to Margrette’s and he looked at her, puzzled. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Gretchen said, lowering her hands from her mouth as a single tear spilled over and rolled down her cheek. “Didn’t you hear the last name?”

Confused, he shook his head. “Margrette?”

Gretchen shook her head and smacked his arm. “No, you dimwit.” she paused and took a deep breath. “Ezekiel Lewis.”

- -

After the names had been announced, the meeting had been dismissed. The chosen four were directed to meet at the abandoned track, the closest to the surface, the next morning at five. This gave them time to pack and say their goodbyes. They were assured any loose ends had been dealt with.

Ezekiel did not know how to feel. In fact, he hardly even remembered walking home. Gretchen had lead him by the hand he knew. He must have been too dazed for her to trust him not to run into a wall or oncoming train on his own.

He had been sat down in the chair he had been in that very morning, when the whole world seemed different. His cold, unfinished breakfast remained on the table beside him. Suddenly his future, which only hours ago seemed dead set, was now unpredictable. After five tomorrow morning, he could die at any moment. What about all he had worked for? What about his family? Didn’t he have any say in this?

Before he had fully returned from his thoughts, he heard the front door burst open. His mother ran in, tears causing her dark hair to cling to her face. She wrapped him in her arms and sobbed continuously, spilling apology after apology that he wasn’t even listening to. She was sorry for not paying attention to him. She was sorry she never said how much she was proud of his work. She was sorry about his father, and she couldn’t imagine how he didn’t hate her. She cried about how she didn’t want him to go and begged for him to say something. She took his face between her cold hands and their matching hazel eyes met. “Ezekiel, please,” she sobbed, searching her face for any type of emotion.

Eye contact sparked a stir of emotions in him which had not been there a moment before. He looked away and brushed her hands off, standing from his chair and turning to face the other way. As he began to pace, he noticed Jonathan had followed his mother in and Gretchen was standing beside his chair. They were all looking at him expectantly, curiously, afraid.

He stopped pacing and looked at them all. His eyes rested on his mother and he took her in. She was leaning forwards a bit, wringing her hands. Her hair had fallen out of the neat bun it had been in for years, strands of silver that he had never noticed before, gleaming. Dread and loss overcame him and it took only a few long strides to make his way over to her and wrap her in his arms. She seemed so frail. When was the last time he had hugged her? She began to shake once again with sobs and he struggled to hold back his own tears. The embrace lasted a long while before he held her back by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I will be ok,” he promised, offering a small smile. He looked up and caught sight of Jonathan standing a ways back, and exchanged a nod with him. Letting go of his mother, he turned to Gretchen, who immediately flung herself at him.

“Take me with you,” she begged, her voice cracking. He smiled and knelt down, brushing her hair out of her face.

“You know I would if I could,” he promised. “But don’t you worry. I’ll be back before you know it.” He hoped his promise would be true, and he refused to believe it wouldn’t be.

She nodded and smiled back. “Come on,” she said with a sniff. “I’ll help you pack.” She pulled him up and began walking towards his room, glancing at their mother who had fallen into Jonathan’s comforting shoulder.

As they made it into Ezekiel’s room, Gretchen pulled out the only bag he actually had and began going through his clothes. She continually threw things on the floor making comments like, “You definitely can’t bring that.” “Why would you ever wear this at all?” and “Where did you even get this?” He sat on the end of his bed and watched as she cleared out his drawers and closet, deeming everything unfit to pack. “I guess you just can’t go then. You don’t have anything to wear,” she said, facing away from him and looking at the floor in silent dismay. Suddenly, she buried her face in her hands and her body began to shake with sobs.

Ezekiel stood from where he sat and wrapped a comforting arm around her. Words were not needed. After she got it all out, she bent down and began picking things up, refusing to make eye contact with him. He left her side and began to do the same, folding articles of clothing and placing them neatly in the suit case.

After a long while, Gretchen suddenly said, “Tell me about father.”

Ezekiel looked at her in surprise. She had never wanted anything to do with him, not wanting to feel sorrow over a person she hardly remembered. Their mother refused to talk about him anyway. Now, since her last reliable source was about to leave and possibly never come back, she wanted to know.

“Well,” Ezekiel began with a sigh, “He had black hair, though that could have just been from the coal dust. He had blue eyes, like yours. A round face, like yours… You really do look like him,” he said with a smile. “You act like him too, you know. He would always tell stories about the surface and what it used to be like. You could tell by the way he talked about it that he wanted to see it for himself.” He stopped and gave a small laugh. “Your favorite one was about a lion with a thorn in his paw and a mouse that helped him get it out. You would always call dad a lion and insist that you were a mouse.” His eyes gleamed at the memory. “He would chase you and pretend to be a lion and you would squeak like a mouse and giggle. You’d hide somewhere and he’d pretend he couldn’t see you, so he would as me and mom for help and we would look all over for you, listening to you giggle from where you very obviously were.”

He looked over to Gretchen and saw her smiling, though there were tears streaming down her face. He could only assume she remembered some little piece of what he described. She looked at him when he stopped and quickly wiped her tears away. “What else?” she asked, sniffling.

The stories continued until late, even after they had finished packing. It was nearly midnight by the time he sent her to bed. She was already half asleep and refused to move, so he carried her to her own room and watched her for a moment longer. She would still be asleep by the time he left that morning, as well as his mother and Jonathan. He did not want to wake them up and bother with more goodbyes. He wanted to remember home as it had been tonight, for he was unsure of whether or not he would see any of them again.

- -

Ezekiel woke up at four thirty that morning to make his way to the abandoned station as directed the day before. Everything was all packed and everything, so all he had to do was leave. But before he did, he left a note on the kitchen table, which had by now been cleared by yesterday’s breakfast. It read:

Dear mom, Gretchen, and Jonathan,

I know this is hard for all of you in different ways. I know I won’t be able to talk to you until I get back, but I will come back. Just remember that. And when I do, I’ll have so many stories, I’ll be telling them for years. And who knows, maybe I’ll be in one of those history books someday. I love you.

- Ez

He hesitated as he placed the note gently on the table, letting his fingers linger around the smooth edges. He heaved a sigh and before he let emotion get to him, he turned sharply and made his way out the door.

He walked down the road that was just as busy and bustling as any other day. You’d be surprised how many people woke up early when there was no sun to tell you it was still ok to sleep. The people wandered along like nothing had happened the day before, their lives unaffected.

Hands in his pockets, he walked until there were no more people. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, and he checked his watch. Momentary dread filled him. He had been walking for over twenty minutes. He shrugged it off. It’s not like the expedition would leave without him. He looked up from his wrist and gazed upon the sight before him.

Faded police tape and crumbled rocks. A single torch flickered with a pathetic flame in the corner, outliving the rest lining the wall which must have burnt out days before. He had unknowingly followed the familiar path to the coal mine his father had worked in. He stared blankly at the wall for what seemed like forever, but in his mind played the memories of what he had lost. He glanced at his watch again. 5:18.

He was never one for being late, so he figured he best get going before they actually did leave without him. His feet began to suddenly move again, like starting up a machine that had been down for an entire lifetime. The sudden scuffing sound echoed in the near silence, harmonizing with the last pops and spurts of the torch as it went out.

Luckily, the lift to the abandoned tracks wasn’t far and his father had taken him up it enough times that he could navigate in the dark without much trouble. He fumbled to find the lever, but once he did, he head the doors to the lift clang open. He stepped inside and began his descent, trying his best not to think about it too much.

As he got higher to the surface, the air grew less stuffy than it was so far below, and his ears popped. He waited patiently for the light above to appear. Once it did, the sound of voices echoed it. The lift stopped with a jerk that made him stumble in his distracted state.

The brightness made him squint as he pulled the doors open and stepped off the lift. By now, the voices had either been reduced to a mere murmur or stopped entirely. As his hazel eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a slew of faces looking at him expectantly.

The first one he recognized was Margrette, though the others were strangers. There were only two others that weren’t clad in uniform. A short, shy looking girl with short, curly brown hair. She had freckles and big round blue eyes hidden behind a similar pair of glasses.

The other was a young man older than him by maybe a couple years, with short black hair and eyes that were gray. He was scrawny looking and average height, and Ezekiel expected the same shy look from him, but what he found was not so. In fact his gaze was quizzical, like he was studying Ezekiel, or looking for something that was expected to be there and simply wasn’t. Ezekiel was doing the same and he wondered if they were mirroring each other’s expressions.

He jumped a bit when the booming voice of one of the uniformed men broke the ice. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get started.” he gave a stern glance at Ezekiel, more than likely for being as late as he was, but he figured the guy didn’t want to waste his breath on someone he would never see again after today. Ezekiel began to wonder why he and his little group were going instead of these soldier guys. He was debating whether or not he should take a risk and ask until someone beat him to the punch.

“If you guys are so big and strong, why are we being sent up there instead of you?” Margrette’s arms were crossed in a confronting stance as well as against the cold.

Three of the four guards looked at her, then at the one that was obviously their superior; the one that spoke before. He simply looked at her as he seemed to be silently finding the words to explain. “We are built and trained for battle, not research,” he began carefully. His voice became more confident as he spoke. “You have been selected based on your youth and your IQ, not your battle skills. You will be leaving with all the things you will need to survive and gather data. You must realize, however, that we do not know what is up there. To the best of our knowledge, you should be alright, but no one has been to the surface in thousands of years. The results will be unpredictable. Now, though I will be disappointed if I end up with less than four of you, I’m required to ask anyone who wishes to leave to do so at this moment.” He paused.

Ezekiel looked around. He was surprised that for the next twenty seconds, not a sound was made in the damp cave. He was even surprised in himself. Here he had the chance to leave, to go back home, to see his family, but instead he found himself compelled to stay, even though his life was at risk.

The closest thing to a smile the uniformed man was capable of formed on his lips. “Right then. In order to begin as soon as possible, we have pre-packed backpacks for all of you. There is no time to explain some of the times, but the more complicated items are paired with an instruction manual. The radiation in the surface air had dissipated, so you breathing will not be a problem. However, much has been absorbed into the soil. Avoid touching it at all costs. The effects are unpredictable. Sand and stone should be alright. Currently, the weather is dry and stable. The best of luck to you all.” With that, he gestured to the corner of the room as the old train’s lights began to flicker on.

There on the crumbling platform were four backpacks, though that word seemed like a heavy understatement. These bags were massive and Ezekiel wondered how they expected them to drag them around on the surface. They were fitted with tents and sleeping bags and pots hung off the edges. Tentatively, he began to make his way over to the small pile. Margrette was the first to follow him with confident steps. The others were slightly more hesitant, Charlotte lingering in the back.

Preparing for something as heavy as himself, Ezekiel slung the bag over his shoulder. He staggered a bit, the bag being much lighter than he had anticipated. As the others followed his lead, the doors to the train slid open with a hissing sound. Without looking back, he stepped inside and sat in the first seat, dropping his bag beside him.

As the others boarded, he looked out the window to see the guards saluting them, and then disappearing altogether. For the rest of the time, the old cabin car was filled with nothing but the unsteady sound of an engine that hadn’t run in a long, long time.

Author's Note

It would have been ideal to have Ezekiel's note in a handwriting font.