Page 90 of Drag You Down
“I can’t hear anyone,” Gabriel says, “But that doesn’t mean anything.” He looks at me, and his eyes are so deep, so dark, that I can’t read what’s behind them. “We can ignore it,” he suggests. “We’re only here for—” He cuts himself off before he continues, “Eve. We’re here for Eve.”
I shake my head quickly. “We can’t leave someone in there,” I say, hating the desperate whine in my voice. The idea of leaving anyone to suffer in the darkness is more than I can stand. I want to get Eve out, but she’s at least safely upstairs. If someone’s in here… “It’ll only take a minute, right?”
“Yeah.” Gabriel gets to work on the padlock, and it doesn’t take him long at all to get it unlocked. He takes the lock and stuffs it into his pocket, then opens the door.
It’s absolutely pitch black down there.
“I can’t,” I whisper, my hand shaking so hard I almost drop the flashlight. “I can’t go down there.” I can barely handle standing up here staring down into the abyss, where someone might be waiting.
Waiting for salvation, waiting to pounce, waiting for something I can’t and won’t understand.
“You don’t have to.” Gabriel fumbles for the light switch, but nothing happens. He curses, then turns on his flashlight. “I’ll be right back.”
And with nothing but that flimsy light, he starts to descend into the dark.
Panic threatens to rise, threatens to overwhelm me. What if he trips and falls? What if the Devil is there to takehim? I want to call out and tell him never mind, to come back up, but the words won’t escape me no matter how hard I try to get them out.
All I can do is wait while he investigates.
Every footstep on the creaking stairs is sharp, nails on chalkboard, grabbing his soul and dragging him down, down, down.
The creaking stops. The light of his flashlight disappears out of my view.
Then I hear him cursing.
“Levi! It’s… it’s your sister down here.”
My heart crashes into my stomach, and I fumble with my flashlight as I take a step toward the basement stairs. The second I get close, though, I freeze.
I don’t know if I can go down there.
Even to rescue Eve.
My fear threatens to overwhelm me, and it’s all I can do not to crumble to the floor and bury my face in my hands, to try to escape this by pretending it doesn’t exist.
But she needs me.
I can’t turn my back on her. I can’t avoid helping her. I can’t let my fear get the best of me.
So I think instead ofhowshe got there, ofwhoput her there, and I let the fear bleed into anger.
I shine the flashlight down the stairs, staring down at the great, dark chasm that it is, and I try to force myself to take even a single step down there. Only one step. If I can take a single step, I can go the rest of the way.
Except I do manage to take one step, then I have to stop because the fear overwhelms me all over again. I think Gabriel is saying something, but I don’t know what. I only have the ping pong sensations of fear and anger, anger and fear, back and forth, over and over again as I rally then falter in equal measures.
“I can’t,” I whisper, and the self-loathing I feel drowns out all the rest.
Chains rattle, making me whimper in terror.
But right on the heels of that rattle are thick, stomping steps.
A loud creak.
I turn around, my mouth dry, as I watch Father Zachariah come down the stairs from the second floor.
His eyes meet mine, and even in the dim light, I can see his lips thin. “Levi. I thought you were gone for good.”
“Why?” I demand, my voice cracking, as I ignore his words in favor of the more pressing question in my mind. “She’s innocent.”
