Twitch and Die!

Ch.15: See it Through

A snapping branch next to his ear and the weight of a knee on his chest sparked every synapse in his brain at once. The collective rage of a lifetime battling demons exploded within his heart, pumping blood and lust into every muscle. A spring uncoiled, the palm of his hand burst from the ground and slammed into Lipscomb’s throat.

“But not yet.” McCutchen growled the words. Lipscomb’s eyes bulged from both the shock and pressure of the choke hold. He jabbed at McCutchen’s wound. The older man blocked the punch with his free hand, thrusting his elbow into Lipscomb’s nose. Mindless of the blood, McCutchen released the throat and delivered a chain punch to Lipscomb’s nose, throat and solar plexus.

Straddling McCutchen’s prone body on both knees, Lipscomb wavered as his eyes rolled into his head. With a deep breath, drawing all the ghosts and demons back inside their box, McCutchen surged upward with the heel of his palm, directing it through Lipscomb’s chin. The final blow sent the man toppling backwards and over the cliff’s edge.

Dizzy and struggling for breath, McCutchen forced his pulse to slow. He lifted himself onto a knee, sucking wind through gritted teeth. Get up, old man. See it through. But the horizon spun, the blanket of clouds encircling him until the blackness returned, along with the demons it contained.

Chancho’s pulse slammed against the insides of his skull, swelling his ears shut and causing his skin to tingle. He struggled against utter panic, clawing his way forward tooth and nail, inch by terrible inch. His eyes swam and popped as the rock clenched around him, compacting his ribs and forcing him to gasp for short breaths. His mouth metallic and dry, his throat was clogged with coal dust.

He was suffocating, and he hadn’t even drawn his legs completely inside the rock fall. Any second teeth would sink into the meat of his calf, dragging him backwards.

But the demons behind strengthened him against the ones within. Clutching with his hands, he contracted his arms and pulled himself forward a few inches. Expanding, he stretched forward as far as possible and repeated the process. The rhythm of the movements slowed his breathing until the pounding in his head subsided.

His sore shoulder ached, jolting him with electricity on each contraction. The seconds expanded into hours and days, the weight of the world pressing down. He reached.

Out of the blackness hands clutched his own, human touch restoring him instantly. Tugging gently, Angelo and Chloe pulled him from under the wall of rock. Free from the earthen coffin, Chancho rolled onto his back and breathed deep.

Angelo frowned. “You left de lamp.”

Chancho choked. Struggling to his hands and knees, he coughed out a nugget of coal and phlegm. “It seemed the right decision at the time. How’s the other one?” They helped him to his feet.

Angelo shrugged. “It is leaking. We have a thirty minutes.”

Chloe’s eyes were big, searching Chancho’s face for answers. Finally she blurted out, “How many are there?”

Chancho dusted himself off, awed by the vastness of space encompassing him. “More than a few. But what have we found here, mis amigos?” The ceiling and walls were too distant to be seen, and the openness swallowed his voice.

Angelo spat. “#13. Damn Vezzoni, I will kill ‘em.”

“It’s a cave.”

Chloe nodded. “Natural occurring. Much more stable than the mines. It appears barely any of it collapsed, even though Angel thinks this was the source of the explosion.”

“Señora Marcon said as much. And that afterwards a woman with yellow eyes had been rescued along with the miners.”

“She must have been here when it happened.”