-Chapter 27-
56 years after the Collapse
Every tunnel looked the same, and despite Leper’s keen sense of direction, he felt like he was going in circles. His mind told him one thing, but his eyes told him another. He was trapped in a loop of confusion and frustration. Every step he took away from Kia made him more anxious. She was trapped, alone, and vulnerable, and Leper didn’t know if he could get back to her. The twisting caves had to connect somehow.
Your battery is getting low, the voice said. Even if you find her, you’ll still need to get out of the caves.
“I know that,” Leper said. He could feel the strain on his pistons. They were not as responsive as they should be. Every movement felt like he was wading through mud. Regardless, he powered through, forcing himself to keep moving.
You’ll never make it in time, the voice said.
“If there is still a chance, I have no choice but to take it.” He kept walking, sticking out the square edge of his good wrist and running it along the wall. It carved a slight scratch into the translucent stone.
You shouldn’t have entered the alley. You shouldn’t have left your battery.
“Shut up!” Leper exclaimed. “I’m trying to think.” He took his second right turn. By his judgment, he should have been heading back in Kia’s direction.
When will you accept that you’ve lost her? You’ve failed her, and you’ve failed me.
Leper followed the tunnel until he came across a long, thin scratch in the wall. His soul chilled.
“That’s impossible…” he said, frustrated. “How did I get turned around?”
Your memory is lapsing. I’d guess that you have no more than twelve hours of battery left. Leper started to pick up his pace, trying to figure out where he was in relation to Kia. It had all gotten confused. He stopped at an intersection and closed his shutters. Leper imagined the scratch in three-dimensional space, trying to place Kia relative to it. He tried to remember the turns he had taken.
“Why do I remember taking a left?” he asked.
Admit it.
Leper shook his head, chose a random tunnel, and pushed forward. Every step he took resonated in the cave, the rhythm of his steps pulsing alongside his soul until he couldn’t tell the two apart. The tunnel opened up into a massive cavern, and the sheer scale stopped Leper in his tracks. Between the roof and the floor, a twenty-story building could have sat comfortably. From where he stood, Leper could barely see the other side. Shafts of diffused sunlight shone through thin parts of the ceiling, illuminating the corridor. If the sun wasn’t obscured by the valley’s walls, it must have been noon.
“How long have we been down here?” Leper asked. It had felt like only a few hours, but the sun was already on the way down when they entered. Leper wandered into the cavern, finding a stream that ran along a steep dip in the middle of the floor. He bent down and inspected the current. It was running opposite the direction he was heading. The ground seemed flat, so in all likelihood, Leper was moving north.
“Which way were we going before?” Leper wondered.
He decided that they had been heading south, so he continued walking against the flow of the stream, passing under the shafts of light as he traversed the corridor.
Admit It.
“Admit what?” Leper asked.
“Admit that you failed.”
Leper froze. The voice hadn’t come from his head. It had come from the room. His soul pulsed with fear. He cast glances all around, looking for the source.
“Where are you?” He asked.
“The same place I’ve been this whole time.” A woman stepped out into one of the light shafts, her flowing white dress billowing softly in a breeze Leper couldn’t feel. Her long brown hair caressed her face, fluttering in front of her vibrant green eyes. Leper stepped back in fear.
“You’re not real,” he said. She stepped closer, her bare feet padding on the smooth rock. “Admit it,” Jaylen said, her voice echoing in the cave. “You failed me.”
Leper collapsed, sitting on the cold, hard stone as she stepped closer. She towered over him.
“Why didn’t you tell her who you really are?” she asked, “Why did you lie?”
Kneeling slowly, she extended a hand down to his stomach compartment, flipped it open, and reached inside. Something metal clinked. She grabbed it, pulling out a pair of round, thin-framed glasses.
Her gaze pierced Leper’s soul.
“Your daughter will die with that lie, Graham.”