This was no labyrinth we traveled. No other tunnels intersected this one. The passageway led steeply down with no twists and turns. With each step, we descended farther into the subterranean depths of Ventris County and we were still as lost as we had been above ground.
Grabbing my mother’s wrist, I stood, pulling her up with me. Did we dare retrace our steps and crawl out? Standing against the smooth walls of the tunnel for what seemed to be hours, I heard no further sound except the thundering of my heart and Mom’s breathing. Had our pursuers given up?
Finally, she whispered in a voice that echoed eerily in that chamber: “Let’s go on a little farther, Darcy. These stairs lead somewhere. Maybe there’s another way out.”
I couldn’t argue with that, especially since I was too weak to face the possibility that if we returned the way we had come, we might crawl right into the arms of death.
Forcing myself to focus on each slow, sliding step, I fought the panic that threatened to raise its ugly head. Claustrophobia had never been a problem for me but I could not see where I was going and the tunnel seemed to be closing in on me.
I had always believed that I could choose my own thoughts. Unwelcome ones might come knocking but I didn’t have to invite them in. However, I had never before been below the earth in an unknown, unrelenting darkness with death waiting above and who knew what waiting below. Now, memories of teenage tales told at slumber parties or around a campfire crept up on me and I could not dispel them. Stories of unexplained lights flickering near old graveyards, of strangers who mysteriously disappeared, of eerie nighttime noises not only knocked at my mind’s door, they moved in and took up residence. (Excerpt from The Cemetery Club.)
http://www.amazon.com/Blanche-Day-Manos/e/B0090018EI/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
http://pen-l.com/Mystery.html
Speak Your Mind