Lost in Refuge - Part 6

My feet hit the hard gravel floor beneath me. I look up. The five faces of my friends, Ria, Jacob, Elena, Ramona, and Alex peer down at me through a small square of daylight. I shine the dim beam of the penlight up at them.

“Is there any more room down there?” Jacob calls. “For anyone else?”

“Not really,” I shout back. “Just room for one—maybe two, at very most—people.”

“Oh well,” Jacob says, and I can hear a distinct tone of relief in his voice, even though he tries to hide it.

I turn and study my surroundings. The space I’m in is no bigger than the small tunnel that I came through to get to the bottom. There are four walls around me, securely concreting me in a pit in the ground. I shudder, and the penlight’s beam jounces on the walls.

On the opposite wall from the rusty iron ladder, there’s an iron door. I try the handle, but it’s locked.

The words of the clue ring in my ears as I study the door carefully. Beneath the floor, you’ll find the door, it opens with a key. This door beneath the floor is down beneath the sea. Look hard and your search shall be well rewarded.

So… maybe… I think, my brows creasing. Maybe the key I found in the vase would open this door.

“Hey, guys!” I cry.

“Yeah?” Elena asks.

“Can you toss me the key? The one in the fountain lock?”

“Of course! Give me one minute.” Elena’s face disappears.

“Thanks.” I wait, bouncing impatiently on the balls of my feet.

“Coming down!” Elena yells, then a small golden speck hurtles down toward me. I leap to catch it, but instead, nearly crash into the wall. The key clatters to the ground. Of course I missed it. 

I reach down with a sigh and pick up the key.

Suddenly, I hear a grating sound that sends shivers down my spine. I look up, dreading what I know I will see. The trapdoor is slowly grinding its way closed.

I hurtle myself up the ladder, reaching desperately for my friends. But it’s too late. The door slams shut, enclosing me in darkness.

“Myra! Myra, can you hear me?” Ria’s scared voice is muffled.

“Yes, I can hear you,” I shout back, trying to fight away a sob.

“You have the key! We can’t open the door from here, but maybe you could try to find some lock you could use to re-open it,” calls Alex.

“O-okay.” I shine the penlight carefully into every little corner, but there isn’t a crack or hole to be seen.

“I don’t think there is any!” I shout, my fear of dying down here growing steadily worse.

“Then you’ll have to keep going. I don’t know what’s down there, but there must be some other way to get out,” Elena says.

“Yeah… there’s a locked door, which is why I wanted the key.”

“Well, then, what are you waiting for? Try the key already!” Elena cries.

“I’m getting there,” I grumble to myself, trying to distract myself from my possible painful death.

I descend the ladder rapidly, the penlight clenched between my teeth.

When my feet hit the ground, I pick up the key from where it fell when the door above me closed. I slide the key into the iron door’s lock. It goes in smoothly. I turn the key to hear a satisfying click.

“It worked!” I shout joyfully. I can hear very faint and muffled cheers from my friends above. “I’m going in!”

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. Opening my eyes, I open the door and try to step through. But my legs feel heavier than lead. Forcing away my fear, I jump through the door, and it swings shut behind me.

Instantly, lights click on above me. Relieved to me out of the dark, I turn off the penlight and tuck it safely in my pocket along with the key.

I’m in a large room. Dusty tiles make up the floor, and the walls are painted a light blue. The room is empty except for a wooden crate in the middle of the room. There is a note on the top.

I rush to grab it.

“Congratulations. You have made it this far. But it will only become harder. Here is the next hint: Now you’re here—there’s no turning back. In this crate, you’ll find what you lack. In this crate, you’ll find a clue. Go down the flue to find the next hint. The hint is in the iron, the copper, or the flint. Choose one and only one. Choose wisely. FM.”

“FM… that must be for Felicity Marshall!” I snap my fingers, excited. But then my hopes sink. The next clue makes no sense whatsoever. Maybe it’ll become clearer when I open the crate.

I put the note in my pocket. The wood of the crate is old, and it doesn’t take much to pry the lid off. The crate seems as if it’s attached to the floor.

There is a wooden board on the floor. On it is a sheet of paper that says one word in bold print: BELOW.

I lift the board away. There’s a pit plunging deep down into darkness. Once again, rusty iron bars lead the descent.

The hole is about two feet long and three feet wide. I shiver, not wanting to go even further into the ground.

Turning, I look back at the door I came in. I should talk to my friends first. Relieved to have an excuse to not make the descent yet, I nearly run to the door. I jerk on the handle, but it won’t open. I look for a lock to try the key in. There is none. I spend the next few minutes in panic, searching for a way to get through. I find none.

“No…” I whisper, collapsing against the door. “Why…?” A sob escapes my throat, and I feel even more sorry for myself.

“But I must… keep… going…” I murmur, straightening and marching steadfastly to the crate. Then, taking a deep breath for a boost of courage, I step into the crate and start the descent, my heart in my throat.

To my immense relief, when my feet hit the gray concrete floor beneath me, lights click loudly on, illuminating a long passageway in front of me.

A few spiders scurry away into dark recesses as I walk down the hall.

My footsteps echo in the lonely place. The further I go, the more lights click on.

Finally, the passage stops. It just stops. There’s no door, no clue, nothing. A tiny, round hole is in the wall closer to the right side, but it only looks like a bullet hole or something like that.

I don’t pay much attention to it. There’s a large ventilation shaft on the left wall, but I don’t see how that helps me. Confused, I take the paper out of my pocket and re-read the clue.

“Now you’re here—there’s no turning back. In this crate, you’ll find what you lack. In this crate, you’ll find a clue. Go down the flue to find the next hint. Then another hint is in the iron, the copper, or the flint. Choose one and only one. Choose wisely. FM.” I stare at the shaft.

“Maybe… maybe she’s referring to the ventilation shaft as the flue!” My excitement immediately disappears when I realize what that must mean. Do I have to crawl through the ventilation shaft?

I look at the shaft, which is growing steadily more unappealing. Kneeling down, I pull at the edges of the screen that covers the shaft. To my disappointment, the screen pops right off. I was hoping I wouldn’t be able to open it.

The shaft is about three feet high and four feet wide. I gulp.

Taking out the penlight, I get down on my hands and knees and begin to crawl forwards.

My hand suddenly brushes something soft and crinkly. I yelp and jump back in alarm, hitting the shaft wall. My hand had brushed a piece of paper. There’s a stone on top of one corner of the paper.

I sigh, chiding myself for being spooked so easily. Picking up the paper, I shine the light on it. It’s covered with faded words.

Maybe I don’t have to go through the shaft then! The hint is right here!

“Look under the rock, you’ll find a key to the lock, hurry, hurry back. You haven’t much time when you take the key, so hurry, hurry, flee!” I read aloud, my voice sounding lonely in the still silence. I set the note down and pick up the rock. Taped beneath is a small, silver key. It looks similar to the golden key. Looking closer, I realize it’s not a normal key. It’s just a small, two-inch-long silver pole with a silver ring on the end. I crawl out of the shaft to study the paper and key in better light. The hole in the wall catches my eye. Curious, I take two steps toward the wall. I poke the silver ‘key’ into the hole as far as it can go. There’s a continued clicking noise, like gears turning, then the floor drops away under me, and I plunge into darkness. My mouth opens in a silent scream.

Who would go to this trouble just to hide a few small secrets? 

* * *

I blink my eyes open groggily. What happened…? I groan, my whole body aching painfully. Then I remember falling… falling… into the empty, lifeless void that sucked at me mercilessly. I shiver, and rub my arms, although I’m not cold.

“Hello?” I call out. I’m not sure if I expect to hear a voice call back, or if I just want the comfort of a human voice, even if it is my own. My voice echoes around, mocking my loneliness. “Hello… hello…. hello… lo… lo…” The echoes fade away into the still darkness. I push myself to my feet, my legs weak and trembling. I take a step forward. No lights click on. I can hear water dripping faintly somewhere ahead of me.

“Hello?” I shout. The echo once again calls back, taunting, before withering away to empty nothingness.

I search my pockets for the penlight, only to remember it is still in the ventilation shaft. I look upwards, hoping for some way to escape the darkness. Nothing but more black air hangs above me. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to do that, I think, my heart sinking. My death of thirst or of hunger seems certain when a voice says, “Hello.”

My heart leaps to my throat with joy. “Hello? My name is Myra! Can you help me get out, please?”

“You have reached the next step.”

I nearly stop breathing when I realize it’s a computer-generated voice. My hopes dashed, I wipe away the tears that spill onto my cheeks. But wait—didn’t the AI voice say I’ve reached the next step?

“What do I do now?” I wonder.

“To continue the puzzle you must recite the password. If you cannot think of one in two minutes, I will give you a hint.” A ticking sound gave away the timer counting down.

“Umm… Elder’s Downfall?” I try. The ticking sound keeps on going without faltering.

“Invalid password.” said the AI voice.

“Felicity Marshall?”

“Invalid password.”

“Hints?”

“Invalid password.”

“Clue?”

“Invalid password.”

I rack my brain, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe I should wait for the hint. Or maybe the hint is in one of the other hints…

“Capitals?”

“Valid password. Congratulations. You may pass.”

I stand for a minute in shock.

Then I hear a grinding sound, then something else. It sounds like a dam just broke and released a huge torrent of water. Turns out it is water.

The water swipes me off my feet and carries me onward, to where I wish I knew. Suddenly, something rough and heavy smacks me in the face before brushing over me, but I’m spinning through the water too fast to do anything.

All of a sudden, lights click on and the rush of water dissipates, draining into quarter-size holes in the metal floor.

I stumble to my feet, soaking wet, the world swirling dizzily around me. When everything comes into focus, I turn to look behind me. A heavy black curtain blocks the large entrance into the room I’m in. That must have been what hit me in the face.

Water is still coming under the curtain and draining. The curtain flows lazily along with the current. Before long the water is gone and the curtain just hangs from the ceiling, heavy with the cumbersome weight of water.

I look in front of me. The room isn’t too small, nor too large, and is empty besides a barrel with a piece of paper tacked on top. Oh, please let me not have to go down any further through a tiny tunnel, I plead silently.

Still slightly nauseous from my wild ride through the water, I wobble over to the barrel and read the words on the paper, wondering how long it’s been sitting here. The beginning doesn’t make sense, as if it only starts with half a sentence.

“—and then choose the door, to lead you to the store, of hints and clues to lead your way. But don’t long stay, for then your way will be blocked, and suffer you must. Choose the door, but choose only one, for one and only one will lead you to your prize.”

Sometimes it seems like she rhymed the words, but other times it seems like she doesn’t. Odd.

I look around the room again. There’s a single iron door at the end of the room.

Taking the paper and tack, I hurry to the door, hoping it isn’t locked. It isn’t. I slip through.

A single light clicks on right above me, but I can’t see much further. I look to the left. I look to the right. Next to the door is a light switch. I flip it, and more lights flash on.

The room I’m now in is more of a closet than a room. There are three doors in front of me. The first looks like it’s made of iron, the second of copper, and the third of something else.

Each door has a single word, the first says ‘iron’, the second says ‘copper’, and the third says ‘flint’. Each door has a number, too. The iron door has a ten, the copper had a one, and the flint door has a thirteen. I wonder why they're so random.

Why do those words sound familiar? Then, having a sudden idea, I pull the papers out of my pocket and find a certain one.

“Now you’re here—there’s no turning back. In this crate, you’ll find what you lack. In this crate, you’ll find a clue. Go down the flue to find the next hint. The hint is in the iron, the copper, or the flint. Choose one and only one. Choose wisely. FM.” I say. “Iron… copper… and flint.” I raise my eyes to the doors. “Choose one and only one.”

I study each door carefully. There’s no telling which is the right choice. I look back at the words.

“Choose one…” I murmur. “Choose one… wait. Choose one. She says that multiple times. Choose only one! Choose the door with the 1! Ha!” I jump up in elation. Then, a sudden thought pushing its way into my mind, I freeze.

“This had better work.” I look at the last note I found and swallow hard. “And suffer you must.”

Taking a deep breath, I take a step towards the copper door. I place my hand on the knob, open it, and step into darkness.