“What about Ratha?”
“She’s not coming back. She wanders sometimes. Forgets what she’s at.”
The howl is joined by another one, and ricochets off the cave walls. “What is that?”
She frowns, and shrugs. “Something I don’t want to meet. Do you want to?”
“Uh, no.”
“Then we’ll go.” She heads out back into the forest. There seems to be a think path winding through the trees. You’re moving so quickly that the roots feel like speed bumps pounding into your arches. The animal making the mournful sounds is definitely behind you; staying behind you. The woman doesn’t seem afraid, but unhappy. There’s a small clearing and you race across, thick grass whipping your legs. You stop at a large oak; there’s a rope ladder hanging against the wide trunk. At the top is a simple tree house, large enough for a group of children; it is plain, weathered but lacks the leftovers from child’s play. It feels deserted. From the crudely cut window-hole you can see a small suburb. Brick and wood houses on acre lots with vegetable and rose gardens. Wide, curving streets that bend back upon a large park of rolling, green hills. In the center of the park seems to be a sink hole, fenced in, tree tops even with the grass, a small stream tumbling into its oblivion.
The howling is closer, with more voices. Large animals come from the shadows. It’s hard to tell at first if they are huge dogs, or small bears. They sweep through the lawns, past the houses, looking in windows, digging beneath bushes. “What are those things?” you ask, fascinated and repulsed at the same time.
“Guardians.” She glances at you askew. “They’re trying to head off what’s coming.”
“They aren’t the ones making…”
“No.” A hand to your lips cuts you off. The Guardians, as she called them, are circling below, glancing up and making a muffled wuffing sound. “We need to go there…” she points to the sinkhole. “They think we can make it.”
By the time you reach the ground the animals are gone, but you can hear the clicking of their long claws on the streets not far away. You run across the park. The weeds are higher in some places where the ground is mushy and wet. Small holes throw off your gait and you stumble several times. She slides into the fence at the same time you do, and the rattling makes you flinch. “There.” She tugs at the edge of the fence and it peels back.
You eye the deep hole. There doesn’t seem to be a bottom to the center. You can actually see a bird's nest in the top of a pine below you. “Down?”
She laughs raggedly. “If you wish. I haven’t tried it yet. I use the drain pipe.”
To the left there is a large cement pipe. The stream drains into a grate on top of it. The grate securing the end of the pipe has been pulled off and dangles from a rusted chain. “Okay…” You follow her clawing your way towards the pipe. The dirt is soft, and crumbles away leaving your feet to find purchase on roots, and small chunks of concrete. It seems like they tried to fill in the hole when it first began.
The end of the pipe is crumbled, and slimy with algae and wet moss. “I’ll go in that way… I’m familiar with it,” she explains, “then I’ll open the top grate from inside.”
You edge after her with every intention of following… it doesn’t look that difficult… but the pipe creaks, and with the load the marbled cracks widen threateningly. “I’ll wait here,” you agree.
Your attention is drawn upward. There is still the echoing howl, seemingly from all directions now, but something is pulling at the fence above. Shaking it angrily. You balance yourself by grabbing a tree limb and stretch to look over the edge. A hand on your ankle startles you, and the limb breaks. Wheeling you grab a hand full of the vegetation feeling it crush and rip in your hands, but the roots hold tight. “What are you looking at?” She looks up out of the hole.
“I’m not sure… maybe one of those Guardians checking up?”
“No, they’ve gone.”
“Hmnn,” You reach up slowly until you can reach the bottom edge of the fence, and link your fingers through. Suddenly something looms toward you; it smells fetid. “Aargh,” You flinch back involuntarily. “There is an eye peering at you, cloaked in wrinkles, pale blue and cold. Squinting you pull yourself up further to get a better look. But there is a bang below, as the woman looses her footing and slides with the water into the pipe, pulling you down.
“Sorry!” She gurgles as you rush along the dark pipe. At least it’s smooth, if slimy. “What was it?”
“I didn’t see much…” You cough as water splashes into you mouth… is this run off? “…it was…”
“I changed my mind.” She sputters. “Don’t tell me. I obviously don’t want to know or I would’ve tried to look myself.”
You consider this, and it makes sense. Before you can say so you are dropping from the pipe, and plunge into warm, clear water. When you surface and look behind you there is nothing up a small 2-inch pipe sticking from a rock wall trickling spring water.