THIRTEEN FOR DINNER

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

            Quillan drags me down the corridor and I can barely keep up as I totter along in Steffi’s stilettos. I could run much faster without these strappy heels but I dare not stop to unfasten them. Quillan’s charging the tunnel now, running blindly in the dark. The musty air from the secret passage snuffed out our candles, refusing to let us invade the concealed catacomb with light. I hear no footsteps following us and I can’t turn my head to look for the others for fear I would lose my balance. Besides, it would be a futile attempt anyway with the tunnel being as dark as it is; and I am wondering how Quillan is managing to go so fast without light to guide his way. His luck runs out however, and without warning the floor beneath our feet takes a steep decline, sending us cartwheeling on top of each other. I lose his hand in the tumble as I go sprawling against the cold earth. My fingers dig into the damp soil, as I skid forward skinning my knees and dirtying the side of my face. One of Steffi’s sandals broke and is dangling off my foot, still attached by a single strap.  I scramble up on all fours, feeling my way as I crawl with one hand extended searching.  I always heard when one of your senses is gone the others take over with intensity and it must be true because I can’t see worth a flip but I am hearing mumbling and the stale musty air now reeks of filth, smelling somewhat like the sweaty locker rooms at the gym.

            “Quillan?”  I call out, hearing the terror in my voice. “Where are you?” There is no answer but the mumbling stops suddenly.  I begin to call out his name again when I feel a hand cup over my mouth. Before I can scream, Quillan whispers in my ear. “Be quiet or you will give us away.”

            Releasing his hand from my lips, he pulls me back, shoving me behind planks of wood. I feel Steffi’s dress snag on the rough edges and as much as I can tell we are huddled down, hidden in a dark corner.

            Quillan sits beside me pulling me close to him. Usually I would protest and slide over but I’m scared shitless right now and will utilize all the protection I can get. He cups his hand lightly below my mouth as if he’s anticipating me making more noise. Again he gives a quiet warning. “Sh-sh-sh.”

            We wait and suddenly a faint glow of light materializes far down the passageway. My heart catapults into my throat, choking the air from my lungs. Quillan doesn’t need to worry; I don’t think I could scream if I wanted to. My nails dig into Quillan’s skin as the glow of light grows and the sound of scuffling approaches. Peering through the slats of the wooden crates concealing us, I count seven people heading our way. A nice looking guy, about mine and Quillan’s age, is leading the group. His skin is brown, and his hair is pulled back into a long pony tail of dreadlocks. He’s wearing dirty pants, a white shirt and suspenders. His black boots are covered in mud and in one hand he holds a lantern and in the other, the hand of a little girl who looks about six. The look in his face is powerful and determined as if the life of this precious little girl depends entirely on him. Trailing behind him are three other kids, all browned skinned as well. I guess their ages to be anywhere from eight to thirteen. A man and woman bring up the rear. The woman is in a long dress and is carrying a bundle of blankets close to her breast and I figure it’s a baby. They march along in silence, oblivious of us watching them from our cubby hole. I hear the relief in Quillan as they pass on by and without the glow of their leader’s lantern Quillan and I are cast in darkness once again which is terrifying to me since I am positive we just witnessed a family of ghost march by.

            “Who are they,” I squeak out, finally able to find my voice? Quillan doesn’t answer me; instead he yanks the broken shoe off my foot and then tells me to remove the other. The intensity in his voice motivates me and as my fingers struggle with the buckle I feel his eyes watching me.