From Darkness Comes - Book 2 in The Dissonance Series

What Lies Beneath

"What are you talking about?" I ask, after Wyler's cryptic comment. "And what are you doing?" He shifts the table, moving its position.

"There's an entire underground network here, not just the tunnel to the outside. It's where they were keeping Sidonie and I."

Of course. It makes sense that Environettix would build underground. After all, that's their area of expertise. It's how they built the mine.

"I'm taking you down there," he insists.

"Okay," I reply in confusion, needing to know more, but trying to trust in what Wyler is doing. It's clear there's something urgent that he needs to show me.

"But how will we access it? Isn't it protected?"

"Of course. That's why we're going through here." He points to the ceiling. "This city runs off of an immense circulation system, pumping hundreds of gallons of oxygen into the dome. Without it, there isn't enough oxygen for anyone to survive. Well, at least not for must of us," he looks at me. "The ducts are unblocked, unguarded, and unwatched and they run through the entire city. We could go anywhere."

"So let's go," I say, climbing onto the table.

Wyler hops up next to me, reaching up to the ceiling and pushing the grate aside. He holds out his hands, lacing his fingers through one another, using them to make a step. I place my foot in his palms and he pushes me up towards the ceiling. I stretch my arms as far as they will reach, grabbing onto the insides of the air duct, supporting my weight under my arms. Wyler lifts his hands above his head. I push myself off and up into the air duct. I turn back around, reaching my hand down to Wyler. He laughs.

"I know you've got gen 3 level mod strength, but I doubt it's enough to lift me. Stand back."

He jumps in the air, latching onto the air duct. His hands begin to slip, but he catches himself at the last minute. Using only the strength of his arms and abs, which are still healing, he pulls himself into a chin up, pushing his head and then his torso through the vent. Once his forearms are on either side of the inside of the duct, he shimmies his legs through. I shut the grate behind him. Once safely inside, he lifts his shirt, assessing the damage to his wound. A small red circle bleeds through the bandages, but it doesn't spread past the size of a nickel. Most likely, just a tiny tear in the stitches.

"Looks like I'll live," he jokes.

"Gen 2 level mod healing."

"Sure comes in handy. So does this six pack," he pats his stomach and I shake my head at his ridiculousness. "Wanna trail your fingers down it again?" My cheeks go bright red.

"Which way," I ask, anxious to change the subject and to get out of the air duct system, which is quickly feeling claustrophobic.

"This way. " Wyler leads. "Move slowly. Stop if you hear voices."

We make our way through the labyrinth of air ducts. It feels like a corn maze to me, with each bend resembling the next, but Wyler seems to know where he's going. Twice, we hear voices and have to stop, sitting in the ductwork for several minutes before resuming our slow crawl.

The slope of the ductwork steepens as it begins its descent farther below the ground. At one point we actually have to slide down a section. Finally, Wyler stops, putting his finger up to his mouth. He listens carefully, pressing his ear to the grate, then peers through the slits to see if anyone is coming. The coast is clear.

Slowly, he opens the grate and makes his way down through the hole, landing on the ground as quietly as possible. He stops for a moment to make sure no one has heard. Then he reaches up for me and helps me down, but he doesn't let go once I'm in the room. He holds me there in his arms, for a minute, a little too tightly, not wanting to let go. Tiny beads of sweat freckle my forehead, from crawling through the confinement of the ductwork. He tugs at several strands of hair shellacked to my cheek, gently pulling them from my face and tucking them behind my ear, just like before, only this time the amber glow in his irises is gone. He takes in a deep breath, releases it, and points down the hall.

"I'll stand watch. If anyone comes, hide in the shadows. I'll distract them."

"If you get caught, how will I escape?"

"Vega will help, when I tell her what's...happening here."

I look into the darkness and visions of recent horrors flood my brain.

"Come with me," I say.

"This is something you should do alone."

"Wyler..." I protest.

Go," he says more sternly and points down the hallway.

The room is dark, dingy and cold. It's dimly lit and difficult to see, but I can still tell that there's something ahead. I take slow, tentative steps, always looking over my shoulders. I walk slowly down the corridor. I can make out a set of bars in the distance. When I finally reach them, I grab ahold of the cold steel. It's a cage, no, a prison cell. Something moves in the shadows, hidden in the corner. Instinctively, I jump back, terrified that it's another one of the creatures from the other side of the dome, but I know Wyler would never send me down here alone if that were the case. Whatever it is that's down here, Wyler isn't scared of it. It wasn't fear on his face. It was concern.

Then I see something propped up against the edge of the cell. I move closer, reaching my hand through the bars, pulling out a piece of paper. I run my hand along the worn edges, shaking my head in denial of what I see: a photograph, one I've seen before, not long ago, of a boy with his arm wrapped around someone, only before I didn't know who the person was because I couldn't see them. A deep crease runs down the photo from where it was folded for years. On the other side of the crease stands a girl, smiling, with the arm of her boyfriend draped over her shoulders. The girl is...me.

I drop the photo, hands shaking, as the person in the cell moves forward, out of the darkness. All I can think is that my eyes are playing tricks on me. I haven't slept in a week. I've been popping those Alice in Wonderland pills daily and who knows what horrible chemicals Environettix has put in them. My brain's not right. I've officially lost my mind. What I'm seeing can't be real, but the feelings overcoming me, are. I can deny the reality of what I'm seeing, but I can't deny what's happening inside of me at the sight of it, the sight of him. I shake my head in utter shock and disbelief and drop to my knees, tears streaming down my cheeks.

The man steps into a thin ray of light and speaks.

"Hello Birdie."