This Was A Bad Idea

chapter 14 - kids on fire

The toes of my sneakers nudge the torn cover.

The dark hole leaning down into the abyss yields the rust-covered ladder and nothing more. It's almost ironic how we voluntarily went down there. Now the motions of climbing down that ladder seem forgein. Xen and Elliot stand beside me, faces drawn tight with fear. I can feel the Officer take a step towards me, giving a soft cough.

"I'll go first." I murmur quietly. I ease myself down into a crouch, trying to keep my muscles from locking up. I gingerly place a foot onto the topmost rung. A second foot. My fingers grate against the ground.

"Orion, are you sure?" Xen asks softly. I look up, giving her a quiet nod. My head jerks up and down like a broken doll. I force my legs downward, the soles of my sneakers clattering against the second rung. Another step down.

Now my hands are curled against the rust-covered ladder, stained with streaks of red. Another step. I can't stop the shaking of my arms now, the white clench of my knuckles against each rung.

My ankle brushes against the metal and I feel the grate of the rust against the sliver of skin. My hands go slack, my left foot sliding backward with a sharp jerk. My breath gives a sharp pop as my entire body swerves, my limbs loosening. The air grows heavy as I barely catch myself, sweat-slick palms clenching tight to the deteriorating metal. My left leg bangs against the side of the ladder, a muffled bang echoing through the tight chamber. A strangled noise escapes me, a mixture of a sob and a moan. A dull stab of pain strikes through the left side of my body, fading out in a few heartbeats.

"Orion!" Elliot yells. I crane my neck upwards, staring at the circle-shaped wedge of sky. His face peers from bove me, eyes knitted with fear. I try to think of what I look like from his perspective. I can imagine my face shadowed by darkness, features taught with panic.

"Slipped-" I grate out, the word swallowed by a dry cough. "Sorry. I'm okay." I force my clenched fingers to move down another rung. Another step. My motions are mechanical, eased by fear. I can hear my heartbeat thumping loudly in my chest, feel the thin beads of sweat coiling past my shirt collar.

"What are you doing?" Someone yells. I see a flash of skin as a hand breaks through the dull haze of the tunnel. A woman in a black jacket, a patch pinned to the left breast pocket that I can't read. A flicker of anger crosses her face. "Why'd you send a kid down here?" She yells, voice echoing up the shallow chamber, past the ladder.

I can't hear her anymore. My breathing rushes hard and fast as I ease myself down the last rung.

"Kid, are you okay down there?" The officer calls out. I don't answer. I feel the exhale of relief building up in me as my legs stretch towards the ground. My sneakers snap against the concrete. A hard stab of pain jolts through my entire body.

My spine straightens, my skin flush with the searing burn of a fresh bruise. A flare of color streaks past my eyes, a burning white-hot light that sears through my brain. I stumble backward, an inhuman noise wrenching from my throat.

I'm aware of a hand on my arm, a disembodied voice asking if I'm okay. Something is wrong. The world flickers like a single tongue of fire. The edges of my vision distort like a fish-eye lens, the world reeling away from me-

The hard press of other people's limbs against my skin makes me recoil. I look down. The tunnel is swollen with bodies. Teenagers swerve in time to music blasting from an unknown source. The reek of beer overrides my senses, fogging my brain in a haze of nausea.

A party. Too many people. The scene flickers like a roll of crappy camera film. I look down and a pop of fear coils underneath my skin.

My hands are pale instead of a smooth brown. I'm white. I'm wearing a pair of rough gray jeans and a green shirt, I feel the tug of a thin necklace against my collarbone-