Then, as Kriss was far away from me, “Hey,” Ryson’s voice said, his voice emotionless and unenthused.
I was slightly surprised that I didn’t hear him approaching me at all, maybe I had confused his footsteps with hers, and he patted me. I unveiled my face and found him trying to help me up by grabbing my left arm, which I found uncomfortable. So I politely rejected him, stood up, turned away from him and everyone, and expressed my gratitude, with remnants of tears evaporating on my cheeks.
Standing steadily, I tried my best to avoid catching a good glimpse of the remains of Ciara by keeping my head down like there was anything interesting on the street. And I didn’t dare to imagine what it was like, but even so, just the thought of it was already dreadful enough to make me shudder and cringe.
“Are you hurt?” Ryson asked.
Wiping the trails on my face, “Nope. I’m fine. I’m fine,” I said.
“Great. Because we have to get going now,” Kriss said loudly and firmly at somewhere behind me, in a way that made me think she had already accepted what had happened to her in such a quick time and had never had any strong emotions, her voice growing louder as she was walking toward me. “I am afraid they will return when they find out there are more of us.”
And I was slightly frustrated by the firm serenity she demonstrated in her voice and found it unbelievable that someone as moody as her could actually be this normal after knowing what had happened. But when she floundered past me, I instantly felt relieved at that particular moment when I saw her dampened cheeks, because that proved she was just pretending to be completely unaffected so that we were less prone to indulge in sadness and that proved she was a human.
So, with a strangely mournful atmosphere that had seemingly frozen the air solid around us, we resumed proceeding along the street and descended on the other end back to the boulevard. But this time I never tried to catch up with her pace again and intentionally kept a short distance from behind them as I wanted to seclude myself for a moment.
The park was just right across the street at where the slope ended. From there, nothing was obstructing our sight at the park, except the overgrown box hedges encircling it like ramparts. And the fountain that added charm to this place was located in the center of this small local leisure park with a broken swing, a slide and a dry pond, and just by the desolate look of it, I could tell it was abandoned for a long time.
Then we crossed the road and entered the park by pushing open a rusted tall gate with spikes of iron along its top. We did it quick so as to avoid attracting too much interests from the pedestrians then concealed ourselves behind the hedges immediately and waited for any minimal interests aroused to fade. By the time Kriss thought it was all right to move, I happened to set eyes on the prominent fountain, which I had always wanted to take a closer look, with two tiers, and it was like a giant rock sculpture designed by Mother Nature herself; the ground-basin junction was seamless like it was a natural extension from the ground, and was undecorated. The burbling jets of water were being pumped up high into the air, so high that when water plummeted back down, few drops of it would splash out of the basin, dampening the pebbled ground nearby. And the splashing and burbling sounds of it did somehow make me feel less gloomy.
“Where is the tunnel?” I asked when Kriss was leading us straightly toward the fountain.
She pointed forward. “Just right behind that thing.”
After we walked past the fountain from the right side, a small rectangular-shaped box of house, which looked like one of those at a toll gate, covered with layers of dust became visible right next to the edge of the pebbled ground. There was a window on the door of it, but no light could pass through as though it was a one-way mirror.
“This is where the park-keeper used to work at,” Kriss explained.
“So, where is it?”
“Down there,” she said, as she reached out for the doorknob and heaved open the thin timber door.
And I peeped into the house, half expecting to see something that would blow my mind away. But there was nothing inside, nothing noteworthy at all, only a pitch-black carpet placed on its wooden floor. I was a little bit disappointed, but as Kriss went on and squatted down, I got an inkling about where it was. And she proved me right when she pulled the carpet away, revealing a dark hole, which was wide enough for two men to fit through at the same time easily and was utterly lightless.
“This is it,” she said, and flipped over the carpet, showing us a dozen of traditional handheld flashlights glued to the back of the carpet, and took one of them seemingly randomly. “Pick one, and we will start crawling.”
Then I squinted at the hole, which was too dark for anyone to perceive anything, so I went on to scoop up one of the electric torches, switched it on and pointed it at the hole, trying to drive the darkness away. But, remarkably and creepily, not a single ray of light was reflected back, as though it was a condensed black hole sucking in everything. And I wondered apprehensively if there were rats inside or not.
“Where does this tunnel lead?” I asked suspiciously.
“You know the answer,” Kriss replied, waiting by the hole.
“Yeah, border areas, but where exactly?”
Then she suddenly glared at me disdainfully when the others were ready to go and were waiting for her to say something and said, “You know what. I am becoming somewhat doubtful about helping you out.”
“Doubtful?”
“Looking at you, I honestly don’t understand why Kaylen wants us to do this. He kept saying that we must get you out of this country safely at all costs and something like that. I really don’t understand why you are so important in his eyes that he doesn’t even care about risking our lives. We have all been fighting side by side with him for like a decade. We’re like a big family, but I have never seen him like this. He always told us—”
“Hey, Kriss,” Ryson interrupted and winked at her.
And I thought she was going to cry again, but I was wrong. She was just giving vent to her fury, which had always been there the whole time.
Then, as I was about to say something to defend myself, she exhaled a gust of exhaustion, head down, and pulled out a faint smile with pale lips. “Sorry guys. But just one more thing, Ashton.” She paused until she had my full attention. “Don’t talk to me no more. The next time you piss me off again is the last time you’ll be able to talk again.” Then she frowned, thumbed the switch of the torch angrily, bent down and vanished into the black hole.
I knew she was emotional, but I just didn’t feel right when she attributed every fragments of her unpleasant feelings to me because I had never asked them to do anything for me. Kaylen came to me first. And the way Ryson winked at her like he was her friend was strange. I felt like there was some kind of an unfathomable connection between them. And for a second, a thought of leaving without them did streak through my mind. But, ultimately, I banished that thought, knowing the chance of escaping on my own was close to zero, and sluggishly, I then crawled into the hole following the heels of Ryson.
And inside the tunnel, at first, I felt like I was sliding straight down to the core of this planet, then as the tunnel twisted up and turned flat, it became wider than before. I could almost crouch if not for the tapering icicle-like structure hanging from the roof of the tunnel, like stalactites. The muggy feeling that came along with some muddy puddles, which I would occasionally put my elbow into and withdraw instantly, was the only thing I found unacceptable inside, but overall, it was better than I’d imagined, though the crawling part was a bit too much for someone who rarely exercised like me.