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I slid down for about ten seconds, and then kicked somebody in the back as I landed. It was pitch black down here, as well as hot and humid, almost like I was back in Florida.
“Everyone still alive?” I asked.
“Not dead here,” said Roger.
“Here either,” said Charlotte.
I got to my feet. I couldn’t see a thing except for a faint light from the trapdoor above, but if any of the others slid down here, they were going to run into the machete.
The trapdoor closed, cutting off all the light.
“Okay,” I said, “our situation does not seem to have taken much of an upward turn.”
“Why is it so hot down here?” asked Charlotte. “What is this place?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, “but I have a strong feeling that it’s not going to be fun.”
“What’s that noise?” asked Charlotte.
“Okay, I don’t need questions like that,” said Roger. “When you ask something like ‘what’s that noise?’ it really makes me nervous, and I’m plenty nervous already, and I’d just rather you-”
“Shhh! Listen!”
We all shut up and listened. I couldn’t quite tell what it was, but there was some sort of noise coming from the darkness ahead of us. Something too soft to make out accurately. Almost like a buzzing.
“We can’t stand around here,” Roger said. “If there’s a way out, we’ve got to find it as soon as possible. How long do you think the other prisoners can defend themselves with that one gun?”
We spent a few minutes trying to find a light source. There was a wall right behind where the slide had dropped us off, but sliding our hands along it turned up no light switch.
“Forget it,” I finally said. “We’ll just have to do it in the dark.”
Slowly, cautiously, we began to walk forward. I had my arms out on front of me, and assume the others did, too. The floor was smooth, possibly cement. The sound got a bit louder as we moved forward, but was still impossible to identify.
Then I slipped on a wet patch and pitched forward, smacking into something at waist-level. It felt like one of the carts in the operating room. A second later there was a huge crash-glass breaking against the floor. I tried to move away and smacked into something similar. It also toppled over in an explosion of shattering glass.
There was a long silence.
“Smooth move,” said Roger.
I could feel a large shard of glass pressed up against one of my bare feet. Now it was officially time to move very, very slowly, unless I wanted to leave large strips of my feet behind. I carefully slid my right foot forward, pushing away the glass in front of it. I did the same with my left.
The noise was much louder now, and this time I could identify it.
Rattling. And hissing.
I very much wanted to take off ru
“Are those fucking snakes? ” asked Charlotte.
“Everyone stay calm,” I warned.
The hissing continued, and now I could hear slithering coming from at least four places around me.
“What is the problem with these people?” Roger demanded, his voice panicked. “Who keeps rattlesnakes in their basement in Alaska? Where the hell did they get them? When do they feed them? I’m having a really hard time with all of this!”
“Be quiet!” snapped Charlotte. “Just don’t make them mad!”
I moved my toe forward, past something sharp and into something soft and wet. The open mouth of a dead snake. Unable to control myself, I rapidly stepped back, crushing a small, scaly mass that had come up behind me, and then I lurched forward again.
I bit down on my knuckles to keep from shrieking. Of course, with my knuckles muffling my shriek, I could hear the rattling and hissing and slithering perfectly well.
Then Charlotte shrieked for me.
“What? What happened?” asked Roger.
“It went over my foot! The snake went over my foot!”
There were loud pounding sounds that were apparently Charlotte beating the ground around her feet with the spiked club.
“Everybody calm down!” I said, pulling my hand out of my mouth. “If we don’t get bit we’ll be fine! Just keep moving forward!”
There was definite writhing behind me, and I was starting to think there were well more than four active snakes on the floor. I slid my foot forward, hooking my toe underneath the dead snake whose mouth I’d explored and flipping the creature out of the way. Not toward Charlotte.
The snake behind me brushed across the back of my foot. I hadn’t killed it when I stepped on it, and it seemed to be freaking out, twisting back and forth wildly. Hopefully it would slice itself to death on the glass, or at least not dig its fangs into my heel.
I kept moving forward. There was a sudden stinging pain in my toe. I screamed.
“What? What?” demanded Roger.
“I got bit! One of the snakes bit me! I got me right-okay, no, that was a piece of glass.”
“Listen to me, both of you,” said Roger. “No more screaming. None!”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not barefoot.”
“I mean it!”
We continued walking. The glass on the floor thi
“Ow!” said Roger.
“What happened?”
“I bumped into the wall.”
“Smooth move.”
“Shut up.”
I touched the wall as well. Now we had to figure out if we were in a completely sealed-off room, in which case we were totally screwed, or there was a way out, in which case we were only close to totally screwed.
“Hey, everyone, guess what I found?” asked Roger. “Let there be light!”
Nothing happened.
“I’m going to be really a
But then there was a low hum, and some fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling lit up with a dim glow. A second later, they switched to full power, completely lighting the room.
The walls, ceiling, and floor were cement. There was a camera mounted in each corner…naturally, Daniel and his good friends would want to watch what was going on below. There were two other carts with glass aquariums containing rattlesnakes that I hadn’t knocked over. I also observed that rattlesnakes hadn’t been the only occupants-in addition to the snakes slithering through the broken glass, there were several tarantulas.
In fact, Charlotte had one on the back of her leg.
I tensed up, and then forced myself to relax and act casual as I walked over to her. “I need you to stay very, very still and very, very calm,” I said. I held the machete out toward her leg, ready to scrape the spider off, hoping my spider-phobic hand wouldn’t be twitching so badly that I severed her limb.
Charlotte glanced down at her leg, picked the spider up between her fingers, and tossed it with the others. “They’re not venomous, you know.”
“I know,” I admitted. “But they’re…big.”
“The one on your leg isn’t all that big.”
I swear to God I almost chopped my leg off. I spun around a couple of times, searching for the dreaded arachnid. There was nothing, and I sighed with relief.
“Real fu
“It crawled up to your waist,” Charlotte explained.
I came very close to ripping the boxer shorts right off my body in panic. But there was no tarantula there, either.
Charlotte shrugged and gri
“I don’t think that was very clever. But I’m glad we’re keeping our sense of humor instead of getting all mopey. Now we should probably get moving.”
There was a long tu