Don’t go near the edge. There’s no telling how deep the hole is, and God forbid you fall in, how will you ever get out?

James frowned. Dwelling on his Dad’s lecture was getting him nowhere. He needed to find his sister.

Standing at the bottom of the dark hole, he took in the deepest breath he could muster and released a shout that emptied his lungs.

“HARLEY!”

James took another breath and held it, hoping to hear her answer him back.

He wasn’t the only one to fall into the hole but it was starting to feel that way.

Why isn’t she answering? And where’s Yoyo?

His little brother had fallen too, in fact they fell in together, but James didn’t see him anywhere. Yoyo wouldn’t make it long alone.

“Yoyo, are you there?” James asked to the dark. “I can’t see you. Stomp the dirt, throw a rock, do something!”

The terrible silence continued until James shouted again for Harley. Finding his sister was his best chance for rescue, though truth be told, he didn’t have any better ideas. He knew what to do if there was a fire or flood or even a lockdown, but no one practices what to do when the earth gobbles you up, and his family emergency plan relied on a call to 9-1-1. That knowledge was useless without a phone and with Harley missing he couldn’t call anyone.

His only option was to shout, and shout, and shout; and so he did, and before long James’ voice was hoarse and his worry enormous. To make matters worse, the ever-present dripping of water felt like a ticking clock.

Has it been ten minutes? An hour? How long till Mom notices I’m gone? I can’t just stand here and shout forever.

James turned on the toy flashlight he kept chained to his backpack. He didn’t expect much out of it and not much is what he got. The dim beam struggled to light up the dark, but James searched around diligently until he ended up back where he started. There was no sign of the bird that first led them to the hole—not even a single feather, and no trace of Yoyo or Harley either. He grabbed the wall with both hands and tried to pull himself up. The rock was slick with last night’s rain, the incline near vertical, and after a few failed attempts, he gave up the thought of climbing out.

“I’m dead,” said James as he slumped against the wall. He scraped the tip of his shoe along the ground to form the letters. D-E-A-D. Dead. The muddy rock hardly kept any puddles. Then came a new idea—the rain went somewhere.

James slung his backpack over his shoulder and scanned the rocks with his flashlight. There was no way up, but sure enough there was a way out—through a narrow gap in the floor. He wedged his body into the gap and squeezed himself through. The temperature drop was immediate. The warmth of the sun had never reached this place, and if not for the beam of his flashlight, the darkness would swallow him whole. He found himself in a damp room crammed full of rocks and with no clearance to stand. James crawled over the terrain, slowly making his way, and stopped when his hands came to an edge.

“Hello?” said James. “Is anyone down there?”

He peeked over the edge and shined his light into the black abyss. The rays stretched down an endless void. There was no bottom, James was sure of it, and a tumble over the edge was a fall all the way to the center of the earth. A dead end.

James sat back on his heels defeated. He thought about the trouble he’d be in when he got home, or if he’d even make it home at all. That was a troubling thought in itself. As he tried to shake out the worries, a cave cricket hopped in the dark, paying no care to the hopelessness of the situation nor the unpleasantness of the dark. The insect didn’t talk of better times. It didn’t make any sound at all. But through sheer luck, or perhaps certain bad luck, it landed squarely on the back of James’ neck. The sensation caused immediate alarm and James spun with such haste that he landed on his back. He reached for his flashlight, his eyes wide in shock, and as the light illuminated the ceiling he gasped in horror at what he saw.

Crickets!

A hundred cave crickets, maybe more, all huddled on the ceiling, all staring at James, all creepy and icky and ready to spring.

The sight sent James charging head-first over the edge. His body scraped against stone as he tumbled down the incline and into the black abyss. Down he went, head over feet, narrowly avoiding disaster as his backpack caught on a jutted out rock. He slipped out of the straps and lowered himself to a ledge. Scrapes on his arms, a cut on his knee, he heaved in relief; he’d been hurt worse. No bones were broken—that was good, and he didn’t see any crickets—that was even better. With his bag on his back and flashlight in hand, he spotted a new passageway, and he was determined to conquer this one on his feet. One foot went in front of the other, first the right, then the left, and his confidence grew with each step. But halfway through the stones conspired against him, and as he tried for balance, he felt the skid of pebbles beneath his feet. His shoes lost track of the floor. James fell hard on his backpack and he slid down the rocky slope.

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Down, down, down he went. Faster now. Chaotic. He spread out his arms to stop his slide. It was no use. His legs kicked air.

Whomp!

James slammed against the bottom and the pebbles followed. He covered his head as a barrage of stones rushed toward him. He deflected the blows of the bigger ones, and then held his breath as the rattle of rock settled to silence.

Tears welled in his eyes as the adrenaline faded. He didn’t seek out trouble—trouble always seemed to find him. He wondered if Yoyo was struggling as much as he was, if he’d ever see him again, and if Harley had ever called for help. He picked up his toy flashlight and banged it against the rock, cursing under his breath and wishing it was a phone. The light flickered then brightened to marvelous white, and he thought the better of it as the beam chased out the dark.

If my flashlight hasn’t given up, then I won’t either. He dusted himself off and checked over his body. A few more bruises, two cuts and more scrapes, but for the most part he was fine. His backpack wasn’t so lucky—there was a huge tear down the side.

“Not again,” James sighed.

It wasn’t the first backpack he’d ruined. He pulled at the zipper and looked inside. His lunchbox was on top, his school books below, and loose in the middle was a crushed bag of chips. The bottom of his backpack was a mess of miscellaneous—pencils, erasers, rubber bands, binder clips, and now crumbs. As James searched for some tape, his fingers found a note shaped neatly like a heart. He read it aloud.

“Swim lessons today—try your best, James. Love, Mom.”

James groaned. He had asked for sword fighting lessons but his Mom signed him up for swim class with Coach Murkowitz. Swimming was Harley’s thing and he wanted no part of it. James wanted to be a hero like the boy in his Dad’s stories. He rose to his feet with an invisible sword and imagined a terrible monster with fiery eyes and yellow teeth.

“Attack—Hya!”

James slashed the air with his sword. The blade struck the monster across its chest and a flaming roar erupted from its mouth.

“Stay back—Aha!”

He spun and slashed hard. It was a crippling blow and the monster collapsed on its back. James towered over the monster and listened for words of surrender.

“Huh?”

The trickle of flowing water grabbed his attention. James let his ears do the leading and found the sound coming through a tiny crack in the wall. His curiosity peaked. He rammed into the wall with his shoulder and the cracks multiplied. Once more and the wall crumbled, and on the other side of the rubble was a gurgling stream.

The discovery was the first good thing in a series of very bad things. Alongside the stream was a path, and James followed it down a winding route that had more twists than a laced up boot. The glow of his flashlight appeared as a pale orb in the flowing water, and James caught a glimpse of motion underneath the surface. He crouched down to see what it was; a fish, small and white with glassy eyes.

What kind of fish is that? He couldn’t remember much from Miss Kim’s habitat study, he was always tired after recess. Do caves normally have fish? How big do they get? What do they eat? James got lost in his thoughts. He didn’t notice a peculiar ticking sound getting louder and louder.

“Sentry IX Patrol 10-93. Abnormal object detected.”

James jolted back to reality. On the path stood a rodent, similar to a squirrel but lacking fur, and metallic silver in color. James squinted in disbelief. A red light blinked inside its wireframe body, and moving gears ticked like an oversized watch. It was some kind of toy robot, but it was more life-like than any toy James had ever seen.

“What are you?” said James.

“Sentry IX Patrol 10-93. Abnormal object detected.” It turned around and started to walk away.

“Wait!” yelled James as he ran to catch up.

The metal squirrel didn’t react and continued moving at a steady pace. Its tiny gears turned in unison—tick, tick, tick—in a repeating sequence that matched the continuous motion of its walk. There was nothing like it in the whole wide world, so James did what anyone else would do; he picked it up for a closer look.

“I won’t hurt you, little guy,” said James. “I just want to see where the batteries go.”

But there didn’t seem to be any batteries, at least not from what James could see. He flipped it around and looked for buttons.

“Let’s try this one,” said James as he pressed on its nose.

With the sound of a single bloop, the gears slowed and eventually stopped. The red light turned off. James pressed the nose again but nothing happened. He pressed it two times, then three times, then four. Nothing worked. He set it down and considered his options.

It still looks cool even though it’s broken, thought James. I bet Yoyo would like it, and maybe Dad can fix it. I’d better take it with me.

James scooped up the metal squirrel, placed it carefully in his backpack, then continued down the path.