As they wormed their way deeper into the cave system they gathered up caches of food and equipment. Lett was a constant annoyance, she would go through his things questioning their usefulness.
"What on earth have we got here?" She had said holding up a booklet titled 'Know your Knots'. Macka had pointed at the scrap book rolled tightly in her backpack, saying:
"What's a Mr. Spooky?" Lett had looked pained and was silent.
She had been following Macka, he knew where he was going and after several hours they had gathered a considerable amount of survival gear and food, so much that they had to cart it by return trips. They were both tiring as Saturday dawned. Lett mumbled something, he knew she was talking to Prophet and the feeling of being left out pounced on Macka again. How much better it would have been if she hadn't followed, how almost sweet it would have been to feel the World turn in a subterranean niche, not knowing if you were safe but content you had done your best. Now Lett was telling him 'here wasn't good enough' or 'we need to be around igneous rock.' She had made them move on at every suggestion of his and finally Macka announced:
"This gallery will do." The area was about the size of double garage. When they turned their lights off, glow worms peppered the ceiling like green distant stars. A trickle of water fell from a niche, and the ground was sloped yet a high portion flattened off to form a small plateau. Lett was looking, and also listening to Prophet's advice.
"There's a chance of collapse" she pointed to the plateau, "the underground river is under that, we want somewhere next to the river, not above it."
"Quite frankly I don't give a fuck." Said Macka, taking off his backpack and placing it on the granite shelf. Lett continued to scrutinize the cave, she pointed to some markings on the wall.
"People have been here, we might have a confrontation." Macka took out his pistol and showed it to her, she snorted and pointed to the crevice they had squirmed through, "if the cave system floods water will flow through there too easy." Lett was frowning, as if she had pointed out some work she expected him to do . Macka was sitting back with his back against a dank wall, he yawned:
"What does Prophet say?" Lett didn't answer and Macka smirked, "As good as anywhere I take it? You're just trying to dominate me Lett. Why don't you have sit and read a couple of pages of Mr. Spooky, might calm you down." Lett did sit down, but unlike Macka could not find the peace he seemed to be able to access. She went through their equipment, sorting and checking. She examined the food, tutting often. Eventually she said:
"We have a couple of hours, we should try an sleep." She shone her torch Macka's way when he did not reply. His eyes were closed and mouth was slightly open. She had the absurd sense that he was her father, and that she, a little girl was trying to please by pointing out errors. For the second time in her life she felt affection for a man, and again she blamed her pregnancy. She took out Mr. Spooky and quietly opened up the scrap book. In the dim light Mr. Spooky was dressed in bandages, his eyes red and bulging as a loop of cloth fell free of his face, his hand was outstretched, about to grab, a speech bubble yelled:
"Are you afraid of a mummy?" Behind Mr. Spooky other bandaged hands were reaching around corners, through a window and behind a sofa.
"What if a mummy was behind you right now?" Once more the innocence of Clarky filled her and she looked at Macka who was snoring quietly. She whispered:
"I'll look after you, don't worry." For a moment she too had foudn peace, and she turned off the torch. She looked at the glow worms and let the sound of trickling water fill her thoughts, all too quickly though an immense rumbling shook them both awake, they could hear rock falls and the sound of water got louder.
"It's here." said Macka.
YOU ARE READING
The Pole Shift
Science FictionEarth Crust Displacement, a theoretical and devastating geological event supported by Albert Einstein. What if it was about to happen, what if we knew it was upon us? What if some of us were being watched . . .