He came down, dragging a stretcher behind him. It went clunk, clunk, clunk, hitting every step. He had his headband with the blazing LED light on it. He did seem to be unhappy, the poor dear.

I waited, slumped against the back of my cage. I was full of trembling, furious energy. The Radio had fallen silent. Its light had gone out. Sneaky, both of us.

“Sup,” Sean said morosely. He sighed when I didn’t answer. “I gotta put you on this and haul you all the way back up. Don’t suppose you can walk?”

I didn’t answer, and he sighed again. “Worst day of my life,” he muttered. He reached into one of his cargo pant pockets and there it was: the fancy key.

My eyes widened. He saw it and grinned wearily. “Want out?” He tapped the key against the bars.

“I could ask you to do stuff,” he said. “If you really wanted out.” He pantomimed undoing the button on his shorts. Then he stopped and looked around nervously. “I really just want to go back up, though. Not good with the dark.”

He brought the key over to the big lock. “Plenty of scared chicks up there anyway, don’t gotta slum it with some starved screwup who can’t respect the chain of command.”

Click. The door swung open. He sighed and reached for my wrist.

I hopped out, full of pep and can-do energy. He goggled. I think he was surprised that I could move at all; he must have been used to finding people down here in a different state.

I had his key, instantly. Like taking it from a toddler. His face went into a gape of terror. I pushed the big knob of the femur bone against his chest. Sean sat heavily in the cage, which swung and rattled. His legs poked out neatly, like mine had. I shut the door, turned the lock. Snap!

Easy.

The Green Radio blazed to life behind me. It played a fanfare, loaded with trumpets and a cymbal clash: Ta Daaaaaah!

“Oh no,” Sean said, suddenly much more engaged with his work. His eyes beneath their headlamp were wide, teary.

I should clarify something: this wasn’t some kind of super-powered cool maneuver. This was just me being in better shape than I’d been in days. And Sean being an idiot, of course; can’t forget that part.

He grabbed and pulled the bars, shaking the cage so it rocked and swung in place. His voice got high, cracked. “Dad’s going to kill you for real! Permanently!”

I held up the key. Sean froze. I thought about tossing the key into the infinite dark. Would there be a way to get Sean out of the cage if I did that?

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The Green Radio narrated once more. “Owen, with sudden clarity, knew that Sean would die in the cage if the key were lost. There were no tools that could cut that metal, not here, not posessed by Sean’s father.”

Sean and I stayed like that, frozen. I thought about pretending to throw it, like one might fake out a dog when playing fetch. I didn’t. Dogs don’t find it funny and Sean probably wouldn’t either.

I placed the key in the stretcher Sean had lugged down here. If he was relieved, he didn’t show it. His breath was coming in short, quick gasps. Like mine had when I’d been paralyzed.

He’d brought a pile of the scuffed-up drinking water bottles. I downed two of them. I’d read you’re supposed to take little sips after suffering severe dehydration, but I had no problems.

I held up the femur for him to examine. Sean went very quiet. “Tell me what you and Dad are doing,” I said. It took me a few tries to form words; I hadn’t spoken in a long time, but he got it eventually.

“Building a new world. A new civilization.” His voice shook.

I looked at the radio. “Well?”

The Radio spoke in an urgent, hushed tone, like a good storyteller. I realized there was a bed of tense background music, a decently-sized orchestra. “Sean Harrigan, desperate and fearful, had only the vaguest inkling of his father’s plan. And Owen knew that Sean would say anything to get out of this predicament, anything at all.”

“Does Sean have a set of bones down here like I do?”

The Radio gave a dramatic musical sting. “If only Owen and Sean knew the grim truth! Sean had been created and destroyed more times than any other human in this slice. Sean’s father had been working on this project for years.”

“What is that,” Sean finally said, staring at the Radio on its cave wall. The light from his headlamp scanned up and down, left and right. The wall was all twisting vines, thrashing leaves. The plants made a rustling, straining sound, squeezing into the rock. The many flowers, all types and colors, moved, following his lamp.

I thought a moment. “Radio, tell me what Dr. Jeff Harrigan is doing with all of us, please.”

A song came on. A big band, rousing, a marching song.

Hmm. I thought about my time in the dark. Carefully, I pulled the stretcher through the vines and left it just out of Sean’s reach. I took three more water bottles and put them in the pockets of my cargo shorts. Four left; I arranged them and the key artfully, so he could see them with his headlamp whenever he liked.

He’d never be able to touch them; his dad would have to hand them over when he came down to get him later today. I waved farewell to Sean Harrigan. Pointed at him with the femur.

“Wait,” he said. “C’mon, bro! Dude, nobody has to know!”

As I went up the stairs, marching, actually, to the music, He lost it..

“Oh no no no NO GOD PLEASE NO I’M SORRY PLEASE I’LL DO ANYTHING NO GOD PLEEEEEEEE—” his voice broke. He began coughing, making other noises, throwing up, possibly.

On the Radio, a vocalist joined the marching song, an old-timey soprano. “Seventy-six trombones led the big paraaaade…”

As I ascended, the Radio would tear its way from the wall ahead of me, vines and flowers, the little tuning dial, the speaker.

As I marched past, leading the big parade of one, the Radio would rip itself out of the wall ahead of me again, keeping me company, giving me light and marching music.

I could hear him still, his screaming, as he found his voice again. Faint but not for lack of effort. He sounded pretty upset about things.

“For the love of God, Montressor,” I said.

Up. And up.