Hidden Deep (17 page)

Morning would be far too late for Lad. He needed help right now. Desperate, I ran to the unconscious men on the ground, yelling, “Wake up! Wake up! You idiots!” I dropped beside them, shaking and pushing and pummeling their bodies as I sobbed and shouted in their faces. They didn’t move. Casey moaned feebly as I pounded him with both my fists.

“Get up and help me. Help meeeeeeee!”

I turned my face to the sky, letting out a scream of impotent frustration. The desperate keening sound of my own voice stunned me into silence for a moment.

I was on my knees, head tipped back, listening to my own breathing and the noises of the woods. In the absence of my screams, everything was so calm. So normal. Dark blue sky, a faint early moon, treetops.

And then I knew what I had to do.

I ran back to Lad, kneeled beside him and put my ear over his heart. I was overjoyed to hear something. His heart had slowed nearly to the pace of an average person’s, but it was still beating. How much longer could it continue?

“I’m going to get help for you,” I promised. “I’m going to find your people and bring them back. They’ll know what to do, and you’ll be fine. Fine. Do you hear me?” Gently lifting his head, I slipped off his necklace, wrapping the leather cord around my hand. “I’ll be right back. Hold on Lad. Don’t leave me.”

I tore myself away from him and stood up, surveying the woods. Every direction looked exactly the same to me. I had no idea which way to go to find his mysterious people, could only trust in what Lad had told me about them—that they could see and hear us when we could not see or hear them. I picked a direction and started running, waving his necklace, raising my voice as high and loud as possible.

“Help. Help. Lad is injured and needs help. You have to come right now. Lad is dying. He needs you. Please help him!”

Blinded by tears, I ran, falling again and again, barely registering the pain as sticks and rocks tore my knees and hands. Thorns ripped my clothes and skin as I flew deeper and deeper into the rapidly darkening woods.

“Please—help Lad. He doesn’t have much time. He’s dying, and you have to help him. Please God, help him… someone.”

I didn’t know how I’d ever find my way out of the woods again, and I didn’t care. All that mattered were the deadly minutes ticking by as I ran and screamed, screamed and ran, my voice growing hoarse and rough.

I skidded to a stop and fell on my backside as two huge men stepped into my path. They were tall and muscular like Lad, with chiseled faces and wavy hair. They were dressed like him as well, one of them bare-chested and the other wearing a gauzy light-colored tunic with leather breeches. Each of them held a handful of glowing colored stones. I’d found his people.

The men glowered at me, their stances tense and aggressive. Both carried gleaming knives. At the moment I wouldn’t have cared if they filleted me on the spot, as long as they allowed me to tell them how to get to Lad first.

“Oh thank God!” I blubbered. They probably didn’t understand my words, but I gave them Lad’s necklace. That got their attention.

“There isn’t much time. Lad is bleeding to death and needs help immediately. Follow me.” I turned and ran, hearing the two exotic men following close behind me.

I had no idea how to find my way back—only that I had to somehow. As I ran, I begged God to show me the way, to save Lad, and promised anything He wanted, if He’d only help me get to Lad in time. Someone must have been listening because we seemed to reach Lad’s location in a fraction of the time it had taken me to find his kinsmen. I ran to him, collapsing at his side, weeping.

“Lad, I’m back. You’re going to be okay.” I kissed his face and whispered reassurances.

Looking up at the two men, I caught them in a strange furtive glance at each other. The exchange passed immediately, and they moved to Lad’s side to assess his injuries. They worked together to lift Lad between them.

He made a small muffled noise of pain, and again, I was relieved. But my hope turned to near-hysteria when I realized the men were beginning to carry him away, clearly intending to leave me there.

“Let me come, please!” I called after them, my voice rising in an anxious whine.

They looked back at me in unison then at each other and turned to continue undeterred on their way. Lad let out a heart-wrenching moan, causing the men to stop. His eyes fluttered open. His kinsmen stared at his agonized face for a few moments, then turned back to me and indicated with hand gestures that I should follow them. They looked less than pleased about it, but my entire body flooded with relief. Somehow Lad had let them know he wanted me to stay with him.

The men moved amazingly fast, considering they were carrying the dead weight of Lad’s long, solid body. I forced myself to keep up, huffing and sweating. The adrenaline-infused energy was wearing off. I managed to continue only through sheer will. My legs screeched at me, feeling more like stone than flesh as I lifted them.

Before that day, I would’ve bet any amount of money I couldn’t have run that fast for that long. But I knew if I ever lost sight of them, I might never see Lad again, or even find out whether he’d lived. He had probably sacrificed his life to save me, and if he wanted me by his side for whatever remained of it, I was determined not to fail him.

After a painfully long time, the men slowed their pace and finally stopped in front of the largest magnolia tree I’d ever seen. I couldn’t imagine the age of the old giant. It must’ve been seeded when the world began. The trunk was enormous. Its root system scoffed at the confinement of the earth and surfaced at will, spreading its knotty tendrils out for hundreds of feet in every direction. Nothing but the most self-sufficient scrub brush and foolhardy seedlings grew in the cool shadows of its branches.

I slumped to the ground, grateful for the break in our marathon, and sucked in a great lung full of air before clambering quickly to my feet again when I saw Lad’s rescuers carry him around to the back side of the immense tree. I made my own way around it.

They were gone.
Dang it
. They’d decided to lose me after all. The panic began to simmer again.

Something touched my foot, and I looked down. The sober face of one of the men peered at me from an opening in the ground, under a thick root near the base of the tree. He motioned for me to follow him then turned and disappeared into the darkness.

I sank immediately to the ground and slid my feet into the hole, wondering in my delirious exhaustion when I’d be making the acquaintance of the Cheshire Cat.

A few years ago, my family took a summer trip to Dahlonega, Georgia, the site of the first U.S. Gold Rush. I’d always wanted to pan for gold, which turned out to be hokey but fun, and yielded a few pretty, if worthless, gold flakes to bring home in a tiny glass souvenir vial.

The most memorable part of our visit was a tour of the inactive gold mine there. I felt transported to another world as we descended the damp, sloping stone walkway deep into the heart of the earth. The guide explained to us the constant trickling sound we heard came from aquifers flowing through the mine, the water running down the walls and bubbling up from beneath its floor. I’d shivered when I heard the only thing keeping the inky dark man-made cavern from filling up with water were electric pumps, operating twenty-four hours a day.

The journey down into Lad’s world was infinitely more thrilling… and terrifying. There was no charming guide to reassure me with corny jokes and historical tidbits. I could only follow the two uncommunicative mystery men as they carried Lad down a winding earthen ramp, deeper and deeper toward his eventual cure or death.

The walls of the passageway appeared to be made of packed earth, marked liberally by large rocks and twisted tree roots. It was neither narrow nor wide, and the ceiling was high enough to give the roughly six foot tall men barely enough room to pass without stooping. They continued to move fast but walked now instead of running.

After a few moments it occurred to me I could easily see where I was going, though we were deep underground. I looked around for lights or torches, but there were none. Scattered about, half-buried in the walls and floor, were glowing rocks that emitted various colors of muted light. They looked like the rocks Lad’s rescuers had been holding. I’d heard of florescent minerals before, but I’d never actually seen any in action. The effect was beautiful and strange. By this time, I was beginning to expect strange.

We finally reached the bottom of the decline, and I trailed the men out of the tunnel. The fictile ceiling gave way to vast openness. When the one in front of me changed direction and moved out of my line of sight, I gasped. My feet stopped moving without my permission.

I know this place.
Was that possible?

The space was cavernous, the solid earthen walls rising high as skyscrapers, dotted with openings, which I guessed were entrances to other halls and rooms. High above us, the ceiling, also made of soil, was interwoven with intricate patterns of tree roots, some thin and wiry, some thick as logs. Staggered throughout the open space were massive columns of intertwined roots coming down from the ceiling, plunging into the floor.

A magnificent, wide crystalline river ran through the center of it all. If my secret pool was a natural wonder, this was a natural miracle. The water was as clear as Caribbean seas, and in its center, the river gave the impression of stillness. But near the edges, I saw evidence of a swift current, and the sound of running water filled the environment, making me realize how thirsty I was after the endurance run.

People were everywhere, people amazingly like Lad, tall, graceful, beautiful. The ones at a distance moved busily about their way, resembling worker ants inside an overgrown colony. Those closer to us stopped and stared, first at Lad’s limp body being carried between the two men, and then at me. I returned their gazes, fascinated by this longed-for glimpse at Lad’s people.

In all my imaginings about his mysterious family and home, I’d never gotten anywhere close to this.

The looks on most of the faces were closer to shock than interest. I might have been the first outsider some of them had ever seen. Grappling with a sense of disbelief, I fought the desire to simply dismiss what my eyes were telling me. How many times had I questioned my own sanity since meeting Lad?

There was no time for questions at the moment. I stayed right at the heels of Lad’s rescuers, determined not to come this far only to be separated from him now. We entered another tunnel, a much shorter one, which opened into a room about the size of a hotel ballroom.

My eyes briefly took in objects hanging on the walls, heavy wooden furniture, more multi-colored light, and then we were inside another smaller tunnel. This one had a lower ceiling and openings every few feet on either side. I assumed they led to rooms, but ornately carved heavy doors prevented me from seeing into any of them.

Finally, the man holding Lad’s legs pushed open a door, and the two carried Lad into the room. I slipped in behind the one in back, as close to him as I could get without tripping over his heels.

The room was modestly sized, dimly lit, and contained a bed, a large chest, a few small tables, and what appeared to be someone’s personal belongings. In one corner, an unusual stringed instrument lay across the seat of a beautiful wooden chair. Like the rest of this underground universe, the walls and ceilings were made of tightly packed dirt and rock that resembled stucco more than loose soil. I stood with my back pressed against the cool earthen wall opposite the bed, trying to stay out of the way and give the impression I wouldn’t be any trouble.

Considering what Lad had told me about his people though, I was sure
trouble
wouldn’t begin to cover it. No doubt they considered my being here more of a catastrophe than a nuisance.

The men placed Lad gently on the bed and left the room. I hoped they were getting medical help. As soon as they were gone, I darted to Lad’s bedside, wanting to touch him, but I held back, my hands floating above his chest and head.

I was desperate to help him and powerless to do so. My gaze ran down the length of his body, taking in the bloody mess of him. I still couldn’t tell where he’d been shot, but it wasn’t the neck or head, so that’s where I allowed myself to touch him. He felt cool for the first time since I’d known him. It scared me.

I whispered to him as I stroked his hair and face. Lad responded to my voice and touch, moving his lips and turning his head side-to-side weakly. A heartbreaking groan came from deep inside him as if he might be trying to speak. I shushed him and reassured him I was all right, that he’d be all right.

“You’re home now. They’re going to take care of you. You’re going to be… fine.” My voice broke over the last word. Now that I’d done all I could to get help for Lad, the emotions I’d been holding in check began to surface, threatening to brim over. My throat felt thick and hot as I choked out the words I needed to say to him.

“Thank you for being strong and holding on. I’m so proud of you, and I… I need you to be okay and to stay with me. You’re not leaving me. I won’t leave you either. I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.” I leaned over him, speaking the words close to his ear.