We ran.
In the gathering darkness before us, the rough tunnel led away from town, but toward possible safety. Behind us, Mister Shivers shrieked his crystal claws against the rocky tunnel walls, reminding us that he was still there, still coming. That sound tore at my ears, worse than the screech of a fork being scraped over an empty plate. I felt it echo in the three shallow cuts paralleled across my chest, burning each time I gasped for breath. Worst of all, Harold just wouldn't shut up.
"What does infinite abyss mean, Jack?" Harold panted his question to me as he looked back over his shoulder.
I should have been paying more attention to where I was thudding my feet, but that's kinda hard to do when you're running for your life through a dark underground passageway. I tripped over a rock on the floor of the rough, crooked tunnel and stumbled for a few steps before I managed to catch myself against the wall. Harold stopped, a look of concern racing across his mismatched face. For just a second, I wondered how I could see that look in those dark tunnels, but we had more important things to worry about than why Harold was glowing slightly in the dark. Hunched over my knees, dragging in huge breaths, I waved him on and stumbled forward again. Another shriek reverberated behind us.
"Never mind. Just run. I can hear him getting closer."
"I'm sorry. It's just... I know I'm usually wrong," Harold said as he lurched back up to speed, "but I think this might be important. What does it mean?"
"A hole that goes down forever. Why?" It felt like it took me forever to answer his question, when I could only talk one word at a time between gasps.
"It's just that somebody told me about one of those around here. At least, I think it was around here."
Of course he didn't _know_ for sure. Harold couldn't be sure about anything. He'd led us far away from the caves of myths and monsters where the other Farmynth made their homes so we could lose Mister Shivers in those out-of-the-way tunnels. Thinking back, that probably wasn't such a great idea.
"Around here? Are you sure? I don't see anythiiiiiiiiii..."
And we fell, screaming, into the abyss.
The wind roared past, flapping my windbreaker and jeans frantically against my body. My Carolina Panthers baseball hat flew off my head and disappeared and the only thing I could hear over the howling storm was the sound of my own screams. Harold tumbled through the dark above me. Maybe I was seeing things, but it looked like he was glowing.
"Harold! Help!" I knew there wasn't anything he could really do to help, but it was just the kind of thing that slips out when you're screaming down into an endless dark hole.
The Farmynth fell faster, straightening his body like a diver entering the water. Harold's huge hands and wire-thin arms reached for me as his goat legs kicked out behind him. The fanged mouth in his round, pumpkin-shaped head glowed in the darkness. Harold's hands scrabbled toward mine, the claws of his right hand digging into my forearm.
"Gotcha," he yelled. "Hold on tight."
"Why?" I screamed. "So we can fall together?"
"No way. Remember: I've got wings."
Oh, yeah. From when he was going to be a fairy. I wasn't sure how much good those dainty little things could do. Still, I clutched at that hope like, well, a falling kid clutches to something that might be able to fly. Thirteen years was just way too short for any kind of life. Visions of my dad and sisters, crying at Mom's funeral, raced through my head. I couldn't put them through that again. I couldn't do that to them again. This had to work.
For more, purchase the September issue of Aoife's Kiss, available for purchase at Project Pulp and at the Aoife's Kiss website.