Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
The tunnel begins to angle upward, the path becoming steeper, the ground beneath our feet transitioning from smooth stone to rough, broken rock that shifts treacherously with each step. Progress slows as we pick our way carefully upward, using hands as well as feet to navigate the increasingly vertical terrain.
“How many of them are there?” I ask, the question that’s been nagging at me since we saw the settlement area.
Lainey’s pace falters slightly, her silence stretching long enough to become concerning. “More than you think,” she finally says. “The transformation has been happening in these mountains for generations, not just since the Donner Party. Some of the oldest hungry ones have been here for several centuries.”
The implication chills my blood. How many missing hikers and pioneers and natives, how many unsolved disappearances over decades, might be attributed to these creatures? How many people have been slowly added to their ranks, transformed by the hunger that spreads through bite and blood?
“Here,” Lainey announces, stopping at what appears to be a solid wall. But as she directs her light upward, I see it—a vertical shaft rising straight up into darkness, barely wide enough for a person to shimmy through. “We climb from here. The water passage is at the top.”
I study the shaft dubiously. “How far up?”
“About thirty feet,” she says. “There are natural handholds, but they’re not obvious. Follow exactly where I go.”
Without waiting for a response, she begins to climb, moving with that unnatural agility that speaks to her partial transformation. Her hands and feet find invisible purchases in the stone, her body seeming to flow upward rather than climb.
Aubrey looks at me, her expression a mixture of determination and fear. “After you,” she says.
I shake my head. “You go. I’ll follow, spot you in case you slip.”
“Alright, but that’s not happening.”
She turns to the wall and begins to climb, following the route Lainey established. Her movements are less fluid but competent. It’s obvious she’s climbed a lot, and while I don’t know a lot about FBI training, my mind is having flashbacks to Clarice Starling at the beginning of the Silence of the Lambs. I make a note to ask her realistic that was, see if that movie inspired her to join the FBI.
If we get out of here.
I wait until she’s made it about ten feet up before I start my own ascent, keeping close enough to catch her, if necessary, but not so close as to crowd her. The climb is challenging but manageable, the stone offering more handholds than were immediately apparent.
From somewhere below and behind us, a screech echoes through the tunnel—the hungry ones, finding our trail. The sound reverberates off the stone walls, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.
“Hurry,” Lainey calls from above, her voice tight with urgency.
We increase our pace, fingers scraping against rock, muscles burning with the effort of the vertical climb. I can hear Aubrey’s labored breathing above me, see the trembling in her arms as fatigue sets in. She might be well-trained, but this is a lot in the best of circumstances.
“Almost there,” I encourage her, though I can’t see the top myself, trusting Lainey’s assessment of the distance.
Another screech sounds from below, closer now, followed by scratching sounds—claws on stone, the hungry ones beginning their pursuit up the shaft.
“They’re coming up after us,” I call, glancing down to see movement in the darkness below—pale shapes flowing up the wall with terrifying speed, far faster than our human climbing pace.
“Here!” Lainey’s voice comes from above, followed by the sound of splashing. “I’ve reached the water passage. Aubrey, keep coming, you’re almost there.”
I look up to see Aubrey disappearing over the edge at the top of the shaft. Relief floods through me, giving fresh strength to my tired muscles. Just a few more feet. Just a little further.
The closest of the hungry ones is gaining rapidly, its movements unnaturally quick and sure on the vertical surface. I can hear its breathing now, harsh and hungry, see the flash of blue eyes reflecting in the dim light.
I reach the top, pulling myself over the edge onto a narrow ledge where a pool of dark water stretches away into darkness. Aubrey and Lainey wait at the edge, their faces tense with concern.
“They’re right behind me,” I gasp, scrambling to my feet.
“Into the water,” Lainey urges, already wading in. “It’s not deep at first, but it drops off quickly. The current is strong—let it carry you. Don’t fight it.”
Aubrey follows without hesitation, trusting her sister implicitly. I pause only long enough to see the first of the hungry ones emerge from the shaft—a creature that might once have been a man, now transformed into something monstrous, its blue eyes fixed on me with single-minded hunger.
I turn and plunge into the water, the cold a physical shock that steals my breath. The current catches me immediately, dragging me away from the ledge, away from the hungry ones, but also away from my only source of light as my flashlight flickers and dies in the water.