We were running low on water. There were several huge fish tanks in the museum, but the water had become stagnant and needed to be cleaned. Fortunately, Mom had printed information off the internet about purifying water. With that as a guide, my resourceful parents were able to jerry-rig a nifty filtration system out of bottles, socks, and nylon stockings. They also built a wood stove out of a sink, PVC pipe, bricks, and other scavenged materials. The stove was not pretty. (It looked like a toilet and Borg drone had a baby.) But it worked.
For the next few days, my sister and I collected water from the fish tank on the second floor and hauled it to the loft where my parents filtered and boiled it.
On day fourteen, I made another run to the convenience store. Again, I took my wagon. For the first time since the peak, the weather fit the mood... gloomy. The sky was overcast and unfriendly.
I tried to be inconspicuous so I wouldn't be noticed by the desperate and dying. I was successful until I attempted to pass Linden View Apartments and was inundated with pleas for help. One of the residents threw a TV out of their window. It hit the ground with a startling crash. I wasn't harmed, but it convinced me to take a detour down a dark alley.
I was at a cross path, moving as quietly as possible, when I heard a melodious voice. I froze and listened. "Here, kitty kitty kitty," coaxed a woman from someplace up ahead. "Here, kitty kitty kitty." I saw a cat turn a corner, coming into view at the alley's far end. The orange and black calico trotted silently towards th—
Suddenly, the cat was impaled by an improvised harpoon thrown from a dark doorway. I stifled a scream. The cat clawed the air, grasping for life, but found no hold. Then it went limp. The harpoon was fastened to a cord which was pulled taut, dragging the dead cat into the dark doorway.
I decided to take an alternate route.
By the time I reached the convenience store, it was drizzling. Clouds had rolled in thick and low, the color and consistency of lard. The sky was dismal and grey. Perfect graveyard weather.
When I'd loaded my wagon and was ready to leave, the rain was pouring. I decided to wait for the weather to improve before heading back.
I snooped around the manager's office and found a novel. The cover art featured a shirtless muscular man embracing a buxom woman wearing a shoulderless dress. I read the entire first half, but the hard rain remained steady. Not wanting to travel at night, I decided to brave the storm. I slid the novel into the wagon and stepped outside.
---------------------------------------------------
My clothes were soaked long before I returned to the museum. I pulled my wagon through the hole at the front entrance and plodded toward the stairwell. My sneakers spurted water with every step.
Suddenly, before my disbelieving gaze, the stairwell door flew open. And out stepped the handsome man.
My jaw went slack at the sight of him and the world lost focus for a moment.
The handsome man was no longer quite so handsome. His dirty face was covered with splotchy stubble. His hair was disheveled and filthy. He wore the same dark blue suit, but it was grimy and blood stained. His right arm was cradled in an improvised sling. His right shoulder, where Abigail's axe had struck, sagged, causing his whole body to lean, rhombus-like, to one side. Every part of the handsome man, from his clothes to his posture, was askew and asymmetrical. In his left arm, he held a long wooden club of some sort; possibly a baluster ripped from a banister.
Upon seeing me, the handsome man's brow furrowed into an angry scowl. "You!" he spat, limping toward me. My brain barely registered the danger before my legs were running on their own.
I assumed the handsome man wanted my food, and I was quite willing to give it up. I abandoned my wagon and fled toward the City Museum's center, where it was windowless and dark. In retrospect, I should've ran out the exit where I couldn't be followed. But, like Abigail had said, "Scared people do stupid things." And I was VERY scared.
I turned to see if the handsome man was even in pursuit. And he was. He wasn't after the food. He was after ME!
I never did learn his motivation. Maybe he wanted to hold me hostage and extort supplies from my parents. Or bully me into fetching him groceries. Or perhaps he wanted the master set of keys and assumed I had them. Of course, he might have had worse things in mind. Whatever his motives, he never articulated them. Instead he barked things like, "Don't run from me, bitch!"
The handsome man's pursuit motivated me to run further into the darkness. The City Museum was a huge maze of sculptures, tunnels, stairs, and crawl spaces. I was a frequent visitor, but even I was unable to navigate in the dark. I quickly lost my bearings. I felt my way around objects and along walls. Behind me, I could hear the handsome man lumbering about, and occasionally spotted his flickering flashlight.
I detected sunlight up ahead and moved toward it, hoping it was an exit. Unfortunately, the light was coming from a barred window too high for me to reach. It illuminated a section containing a log cabin and one of the huge aquariums, stripped of life except for algae. I entered the cabin. The inside was littered with empty boxes, candy wrappers, soda cans, etc... There were also fish bones and turtle shells among the refuse. Evidently, I'd stumbled across the handsome man's secret lair.
This is when I began to wonder how the handsome man could possibly be alive. He was locked inside a small closet. How did he get out without breaking the lock or door?!?
There was a small crawl space connecting the cabin to another section of the museum. I hid in there for a long time, uncertain what else to do. The sun was setting outside. Twenty minutes later, the entire museum was dark. I was in a dark building (in a blacked out city) under a starless, moonless, overcast night sky. I waved my hand in front of my face and literally saw nothing.
The handsome man followed my rain-soaked footprints and found me. I retreated down the crawl space. He pursued.
Thus began a horrible, six hour-long, game of cat and mouse. I would run into the darkness, feeling my way around, getting hopelessly lost. My lumbering pursuer would eventually catch up, shining his flashlight. For a brief time, I could use the light to navigate by, and I'd run back into the dark labyrinth, feeling my way around and repeating the cycle over and over. It was a nightmarish struggle that became the longest night of my life.
Every encounter was a stalemate. I was relatively fast, agile, and healthy. But most of the time, I was effectively blind. I had my hatchet, but I didn't want to get close enough to use it. The handsome man was slow and lumbering with only one functioning arm. But he was four times my size and wielding a club with a much greater reach than my hatchet.
It was exhausting. On several occasions, I was able to slip away and briefly rest. But no matter where I hid, my pursuer was always able to follow my rain-soaked footprints.
At one point, the handsome man had me cornered. (Literally cornered in a corner.) There were no crawl spaces to escape into, no exhibits to hide behind. The handsome man threw his club. I felt the breeze as it narrowly missing my head. He tried to grab me several times as I swung wildly with my hatchet. When I tried to run past him, he grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me off the ground, onto his shoulder. I swung down hard with the hatchet, striking him square in the tailbone. He howled in pain and dropped me. I fell to the floor, hit my funny bone, and lost my hatchet among the shadows. I didn't waste time looking for it. I dashed into the dark. The handsome man's howls echoed behind me.
Each breath made my chest burn. Sweat rolled down my brow, stinging my eyes. I moved through the darkness at a brisk pace. I assumed the handsome man had lost my trail, because I di—
Suddenly, my forehead struck something solid, rendering me unconscious.
---------------------------------------------------
When I regained consciousness and opened my eyes, I wondered if I had; for it was just as dark with my eyes open as shut. My head was swimming. I touched my throbbing forehead gingerly and winced at the pain even that light contact provoked. Slowly, I groped about on all fours, until I touched a wall. I had no idea how long I'd lain there unconscious. It could have been minutes or hours. My brain felt too large for my skull. I eased myself into a sitting position with my back to the wall and rested. With both hands, I applied pressure to my head in an attempt to prevent my brain from exploding.
Obviously, the handsome man had not caught me, I reasoned, or I'd be his captive (or dead).
As I sat there, recovering, I listened to silence and stared into pitch.
Unfortunately the silence was broken all to soon. In the distance, I could hear the handsome man cursing incoherently. I got shakily to my feet and started moving in the opposite direction. I felt along the wall in the total blackness, constantly waving an arm in front of me to prevent bumping my head again. I was still a little dizzy, and my head still throbbed.
My fingers touched textured stone. It was a statue. A gargoyle. I felt around some more. I found an opening and another identical gargoyle. I realized I was at the opening to the slide leading down to the sub-basement my sister often called "the dungeon". So I knew where I was. Unfortunately, it was far from the main entrance and the stairwell.
The sub-basement, I knew, had two exits. One was a stairwell leading up with an exit large enough for an adult. The other was a VERY narrow passage only a kid or a very skinny adult could pass through.
I sat on the slide's edge, took a much needed rest, and formulated a plan. I decided I'd wait there until daybreak. By then, I reasoned, the handsome man would have given up, and the sunlit exit would be easier to spot.
I rested at the slide's top. In the distance, I could hear the handsome man skulking and shouting. His voice became clearer as he plodded closer. "You can't pop up, puppet!" the handsome man rumbled, his voice resounding in the darkness. "The only way out is through my ASS!" I had no idea what he meant. But I didn't like the sound of it.
Moments later, I could see light dancing in the distance, heading in my direction. A sob caught in my throat as I blinked away tears. A stab of fear ached so hard that I pressed a hand to my chest to subdue it. His flashlight's wandering spotlight suggested he was having trouble following my trail or had lost it altogether. I remained perfectly still, hoping his heading would change. But the handsome man's lumbering form continued to draw near, casting light wildly from place to place. My heart skipped beats, my lungs in suspended animation. Suddenly, I found myself uncomfortably in the flashlight's crosshairs. The light was blinding, but I could hear the handsome man limping quickly. Obviously, I'd been discovered. I slid down the slide, into the sub-basement.
Once again, I was thrust into complete darkness. I rolled off the slide and started to feel around for the narrow stone passage. But I couldn't find it in the dark. At once, the handsome man came down the slide. His flashlight illuminated the room enough I could see the narrow, kid-only passage. I slid into it just in time to evade the handsome man's grasp.
The narrow passage was only about ten inches wide. I was eleven years old and small for my age, but even I had to scoot down sideways to get through.
I continued down the narrow stone passage, confident I couldn't be followed. But when I looked back, the handsome man was in pursuit. The narrow passage was a tight squeeze for him, and his progress was slow, but he was definitely following me. The passage turned a ninety-degree corner, and I rounded it.
I knew from experience the passage would continue for several yards, opening into two wider passages that circled around and connected to a spiral staircase. The staircase, I remembered, led to the whale sculpture's belly with an exit out of its mouth. Using that as a landmark, I could try to locate the main entrance and escape.
I looked back and spotted my pursuer at the same ninety-degree corner I'd just rounded. With an abrupt grunt, he halted. He looked frustrated and appeared to be stuck. I didn't stay to gloat. I continued down the narrow passage until it opened up into two wider passages. Both, I thought, would lead to the spiral staircase and the whale. I took the left one for no particular reason and felt my way along the wall. A bead of sweat streamed down my brow and rolled into my eye, burning it. I rubbed it anxiously as I moved through the dark. I kept feeling around and moving, feeling, moving, feeling, moving. Until I had completely circled back to where I started - the narrow passage's exit. Somehow, I'd missed the staircase.
I looked down the narrow passage and saw the handsome man, lit by his flashlight. Apparently, he was still stuck at the ninety-degree corner, grunting in frustration. Again, I didn't stay to gloat. This time, I took the right passage. I felt my way along the wall in the dark, as before, looking for the spiral staircase. I kept feeling and moving, feeling, moving. I circled around and, somehow, found myself right back where I started at the narrow passage's exit.
By his flashlight's shine, I could see the handsome man was still stuck in the corner. His grunts of frustration had turned into panicked whimpers. Once again, I tried to find the stairs. Once again, I inexplicably ended up coming right back where I started. The staircase was large. I could see no reason why I'd keep missing it. I tried again with the same result. If only I had some light! Once more, I was right back where I started.
The handsome man's whimpers had turned into panicked pleads. "Someone, please help me!" I looked him over. He was trapped in mid-turn with his back wedged in the corner. His right arm, still in its sling, pinned against his chest. Both legs were on the other side of the corner and were too long for him to move elsewhere. Unyielding stone surrounded him. Every part of him was immobile except for his head and left arm.
"Who's there?!?" cried the handsome man, aiming the flashlight at me. I turned away. "Don't go, please!" he pleaded. "Please help me!" I scurried off. Once more, I went in search of the elusive staircase. But, once again, the passage circled around back to the handsome man.
I glared down the narrow stone passage.
"You came back!" he sniveled, blinding me with his flashlight. "Please help me!"
"I will if you stop shining that light in my face," I snapped. He aimed the flashlight toward the ceiling. "That's better," I grunted. "Now, no funny business! If you try to grab me, I'll leave you to rot."
"No! I won't!" cried the handsome man. "You have my word! I swear it!" Tears rolled down his cheeks. "Just don't leave me!"
I paused there for a time, uncertain what to do next. "Okay... Hold on..." I entered the narrow passage and cautiously approached until I was just out of his reach. I started making a head-to-toe assessment of the situation. "Can you get your feet under you?"
"No."
"Can you move your right arm at all?"
"No."
"I wish I could see better. Can you shine the light down?" He pointed the flashlight toward the floor. "No, that's no good. Let me borrow it for a minute."
"What?! Why?!"
"Let me borrow the flashlight, just for a minute, so I can see under you better."
"NO! If I give you my flashlight, you'll steal it! Then you'll run away and LEAVE me in the dark!"
"No, I won't!" I huffed. My tone clearly expressed how insulted I was by his unwarranted accusation. "Do you want my help or not?!"
"I'm just so scared!" sobbed the handsome man, "Promise you won't abandon me! PROMISE!"
I sighed deeply and held up my hand. "I swear on my baby brother's life I will NOT abandon you."
The handsome man gave me an appraising look. "All right then," he said at last. "I... I trust you."
He handed me the flashlight.
I immediately took off with it.
"No!!!" he cried as I quickly scooted away with his flashlight. "You said you wouldn't leave!!"
"I lied."
"You swore on your baby brother's life!!"
"I don't have a baby brother!"
"COME BACK!!" he wailed, as I slipped out of the narrow passage, my heart thundering against my ribs. "Don't LEAVE me!! NOOOOOOO! Come back!"
Now that I had a light, I had no problem finding the spiral staircase. (The reason I had trouble finding it in the dark was because it was on the INNER wall. Not the outer wall as I remembered.) I climbed up the staircase, leaving behind the handsome man and his cries for help. I was exceedingly grateful to be out of the dungeon.
With my stolen flashlight, I was able to easily navigate my way back to the stairwell. My wagon of supplies was still there, apparently untouched. Unfortunately, the stairwell door was secured shut with a thick chain and a combination lock. "FUCK!"
[Please remember to vote. Also I'd love to read your comments and suggestions. Do you think Samber did the right thing?]