The Worthy

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN
Jillian
AS WE ENTERED THE DARK, bone-chilling and mysterious underground passage, I could perfectly hear some of guards talking among themselves.

"Do you hear that?" One of them said.

Another answered, "What exactly?"

"I thought I heard footsteps."

We all froze. Dead in our tracks. You do not want to be caught by these guys, they may be a few but one glance at you in THIS territory, you're as good as dead meat. Well maybe for Max, Cass and I only.

"Really?" The guard said.

After what seems like a minute or so, we were all just looking at the ceiling tentatively listening for any avail.

"Don't hear anything. Maybe the heats getting to you, Mark."

"I guess you're right, I mean, no one has even attempted to go to this place."

After hearing that, me, Max and Cass sighed at the same time. I don't know about you but people might actually mistake us as sisters.

"Let's get movin'," Prince Harry said in a low whisper, taking the lead.

I started moving but all of us being careful not to make a sound. We walked following Harry, he had the stick torch on fire and that was our only light. And we lighted it using my handy match on my pocket. Then we were just following the endless dark path ahead of us.

Soft tick tacks of our shoes was the only noise, but not anymore. My intakes of breaths was quickening. At first no one can hear this but after five minutes or so, it started to sound like I had asthma attack. This is exactly what happened last time.

"Jillian! Are you okay?" Prince James asked, I was afraid the soldiers might have heard him.

"Jillian! I was afraid this is gonna happen!" Cass said worriedly, but only in a whisper.

"I'm...f...fine." But I was still at the same state.

No.

I couldn't breathe properly.

Not again.

"Hold on Jillian!" That was what Harry said, it surprised me. And the last thing I heard before I was surrounded by darkness.

Cassandra
My best friend couldn't take her legs long enough and the willpower to stay conscious much longer, aside from her uneven breathing.

And in a fast and quick second, yet so slow, I saw the motion as she slowly fell backwards. I knew I couldn't catch her, since I'm on her side.

That's where Prince James took his place.

And just in time, James slipped to her right and Jillian's poor unconscious body lay beneath his arms. One on her back and one on her hips. He picked her up, like a couple would do after their wedding. Except that the situation's way too worse than that.

Everybody snapped their minds out to them. I was awfully relieved Jill didn't fall on the ground, which will make it even worse. I couldn't help my gasp, then sighed. "Jillian!" I whisper-yelled.

The others almost did exactly the same, except for Max who almost exclaimed too loudly. Good thing she held it back.

"Just keep moving, lads." Prince James said, "We need to get her air."

Everyone moved without a word, knowing that talking would only lessen oxygen and energy. Prince Harry walked forward with his torch-in which, if you're wondering, we found on the entrance of the passage.

I followed behind him, James and Jillian behind me. Max taking the rear.

After about 100 feet, we somehow reached the end. It's constructed as a big, round metal door with a numeric keypad. Four numbers.

Max spoke up before Harry could, "'In order to proceed to Mayor Borell's office, he had made a passcode to it's metal door. It has four numbers. . .' Uh guys? How do you read these?" She said as she looked up with a scrunched up face.

"Let me see," Harry said, Max making her way past through the couple- you know who I meant. He scrunched up his eyebrows, "What the heck is this?"

I made my way to look at it, gladly, I knew. The next symbols were written, or typed:

II XI IV VIII

"I remember these!" I snapped. "Roman numerals. It's how they wrote their numbers by the Roman people. It's read as two, nine, four, then eight." I didn't know exactly how I knew these though, maybe I took over the library for once.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. I nodded. He turned back and typed the numbers. The old screen flashed red. Nothing happened. "What? I don't get it."

"Type it again," Max urged. Harry did. Still, the door wouldn't budge. They groaned in frustration.

"Maybe, there has to be something more written there." I suggested.

Prince James spoke up, "Are you guys okay?"

Then Harry started pounding the door.

"Shhh! Don't!"

"They'll hear us!"

"Wait, isn't that a button?"

That stopped our whisper fighting. Thanks for what Prince James' had said. Harry, Max and I looked closer at the door. Harry wiped off the dust from a green round, hand-sized embossed button with his sleeve. Then he slowly pushed it.

The metal handle that seemed like a ship wheel spun a bit too fast, and with a click, the door opened slightly.

We all stood back, and heat filled the dark tunnel, adding sweat to our faces.

He touched the cool metallic door, and it seemed heavy, so I helped him. With a lot of creaks from metal to metal contact, we finally opened to a full angle. And the stench welcomed us enough.

A short flight of stairs, and through a small hallway. And another, this time wooden, cracked open door.

Then there we were, in Mayor Borell's old bedroom.

***

The warm, old reek became more present in the room. Its atmosphere matched its sight: wallpapers peeled, yellowish papers everywhere, chairs upside-down, and a ton of mess. The window curtains hanging in a creepy way, but the desk space was more disarrayed. Books had been ripped, its pages at any corner of the room.

"Who lives in this bloody place?" Prince Harry stated. I only now noticed he has the slightest hint of being British.

Prince James quickly spotted the king sized bed, and asked me ever-so-politely to clean it up before he laid down our poor best friend.