Page 75

Story: Ghosts of the Dead

Caspian pulls my hand to his mouth, then kisses my knuckles, his lips lingering a breath above the skin. His hand trembles, and his eyes dart around to the vast darkness. His shaking voice conflicts with his confident words, “I’m fine.”

27

CASPIAN

I’ve barely made it twenty steps past the tunnel collapse before I realize my hands won’t stop shaking. I stuff them into my pockets before anyone can notice.

The way we came from is now a wall of rock, sealed in with rotters and dust and whatever the hell else is in there. We got lucky. Stupid lucky.

Casper.

The whisper slithers through my mind when my father’s voice echoes from the shadows. I blink hard, trying to focus on Autumn beside me instead of the ghosts threatening to claw their way back.

You should have died in there, Casper. Like your brother.

I told Autumn the ghosts were loud. I didn’t tell her they wore my father’s face, carried my brother’s blood, and left phantom burns from my mother’s cigarettes against my skin. I didn’t tell her that every dark space feels like being locked in that closet again, listening to my brother scream.

Luna presses against my leg, her warm body anchoring me to reality. She looks up at me with those amber eyes, and the whispers recede.

“Well, I vote we don’t do that again,” I say, trying to keep my voice light.

Autumn laughs, and the sound is like sunlight cutting through storm clouds. “You mean tunnel-caving near-death experiences?”

I smile down at her. The dim beam barely reaches her, painting her in shadow. “Yeah, that.” I wince when a muscle in my back spasms where the rocks had pummeled me when I covered her body with mine.

“Cas, are you hurt?” Autumn’s there in an instant, reaching out for me but hesitant to touch.

I shake my head. “It’s fine, just my back where the rocks fell.”

Autumn’s voice turns serious. “Rocks falling onto your back isn’t good.”

Better than falling onto yours, I think, but I don’t voice the words.

“Here, let me see.” Autumn moves behind me before I can argue. She lifts the edge of my t-shirt. “Shine the light over here, Mars.”

The light reaches us and her palms are warm against my skin. Her hands move along my back, her touch gentle as it glides along my spine. The darkness doesn’t feel so suffocating now.

Weak. Pathetic. Can’t even protect yourself.

My father’s voice fades with each careful press of Autumn’s fingers. The ghosts of my past flicker before my eyes until they dissolve into smoke, and all that’s left is Autumn’s kindness and her gentle touch.

Her soft lips press against the middle of my back, and I stiffen for a moment before my muscles relax. She lowers my t-shirt and moves around to stand in front of me, looking up at my face. “You’re going to have some bruising, but I don’t see anything major. Does it hurt too bad?”

I grab her hands and pull her in close, smiling down at her. “Not so bad now.”

That’s the truth. Whenever she’s near me, touching me, the darkness feels less haunting. I don’t even think she realizes how powerful that is. She’s lost everything, and she still takes a few moments to pull me from the dark.

Luna nudges between us to circle once before sitting at Autumn’s feet. Her ears are alert, and she scans the surrounding darkness.

“Well, I hope we won’t need anything we left behind at camp, because there’s no getting through this wall.” Mars pushes against the rock wall to prove it won’t budge.

I shrug. “We could always come back with some molotov cocktails.”

Mars’s hands slip against the rock. When he rights himself, his glare is aimed at me. “If someone were to donate a sock for an emergency molotov again, I’d strongly suggest it not be mine this time.” Then he turns to continue heading down the tunnel, but he looks over his shoulder at me with a smirk. “Pretty sure it’s your turn.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I nearly got crushed. I think that buys me a ‘no sock’ clause for at least a week.”

Autumn’s laugh cuts through the tunnel. I squeeze her hand. Such a nice sound. Or, at least, it was, before it garners the attention more rotters from farther down the tunnel ahead of us.