Doorway to Hell

Chapter 5

In the morning they took whatever little food there was to be found and one set of spare clothes for Vine. Kat also changed into more practical combination of loose pants and a blouse instead of the plain dress she had worn during the attack. At the inquiry about a spare set she only replied that everything else she owned was in her house in the village and she really didn't want to go back there now. Which was quite understandable, considering that the place would most likely be littered with corpses or what little remained of them.

Vine took the child's hand as he started heading to the direction opposite to the port. Kat was still praying at the priest's grave. "Wrong way, kid."

He kept pulling.

"We need to go that way."

The child jerked his hand free and ran to Kat.

Vine sighed. "Now listen..."

"What if he knows something we don't?" Kat suggested. She knelt at the child's level. "Could you tell me where you want to go?"

The boy's mouth crunched up like in deep thought before he tugged at her hand.

"I guess we might as well check it out," Vine said. "I'd like to know where he got that key." He nodded to the boy. "Lead on, kid."

The child led them through the jungle in a twisting pattern, but it quickly became clear there was nothing random about it. He was going around obstacles a 4-year-old couldn't climb over or pass through - otherwise his path had a definite direction.

He must have been backtracking his earlier trek to the church.

Vine pulled both his companions to stop as they came upon an old, sturdy bunker made entirely of concrete. It had a door made of steel and something had almost torn it off its hinges.

"Has this always been here?" he asked.

"I think so," Kat nodded. "It's probably from the time of the last guerrilla war. A rebel faction tried to win independence from the mainland. They lost, though."

Vine couldn't help but see the correspondence to his own life there, but that was not important right now. The kid had grabbed his hand and was trying to pull him along. His eyes were almost...pleading.

"Have you always been mute, kid?" He could clearly understand speech, though. "Do you know any hand signals? Could you tell me what this place is about?"

The boy just shook his head and pulled harder.

Well, it wasn't the first time he'd had to face unknown danger. "Stay close to me, both of you."

At least there was still electricity in the bunker, and the lights were on. The first rooms they came across were small living quarters. They were furnished and all looked like they had been occupied recently.

Vine counted the beds as they went. At least eight people. Possibly more. So where were they now? The rooms were deserted and there were no signs of a struggle. Dream-eaters were messy hunters, so there should have been at least blood.

His attention was drawn to a picture frame on the shelf in one of the rooms. In it was a photo of a woman and a little kid that looked a lot like the one traveling with them. He took the frame and looked at the back. 'Marika + Shaye (3 years),' was written there.

He turned to look at the kid, who had climbed on one of the beds and was intently studying a small teddy bear. "Shaye!"

The boy looked at him and hopped down, the toy forgotten.

"So your name is Shaye?"

He nodded.

"Is the woman in this picture your mother?"