One Mile Under

Possibly even a way out.

 

It had to be close to a minute and thirty seconds now. Her lungs now felt like they were about to explode. She threw herself into the conduit, grasping for anything she could hold on to to keep her there, and turned herself upward. It was agonizing. She couldn’t take it for another second. She prayed she was right, because otherwise she’d give out. She pushed through the cascading current just as her lungs gave out. With a last gasp, she opened her mouth and sucked whatever was there.

 

It was air.

 

Thank God … She breathed, gasping, heaving, inhaling the desperately needed oxygen deep into her aching lungs. Hanging on, she squeezed herself in, wedging her feet against the interior pipe rim. Water beat at her furiously; but there was about eight inches at the top of the pipe that hadn’t completely filled. And that wasn’t all. The valve was open. The thing had to lead somewhere. To the river, she assumed. Maybe she could make it through. She visualized when she saw it outside; it couldn’t be much longer than a hundred feet or so. But each of those feet would be a battle, she knew, fighting the current; fighting for oxygen. She had no idea how much air could possibly be trapped in here. Only that it wouldn’t last for long. She gulped in three huge breaths, saturating her lungs, and then a last one, ducking back in the pipe, and tried to swim against the formidable current. The force of it hurled her back. She tried again, scratching on the sides for something to grasp on to. She fell back again. It was too strong.

 

She couldn’t make it, she realized.

 

Then she heard something that sent a spasm of terror flashing through her.

 

The buzzer. Sounding again. The same buzzer she’d heard when the water first began.

 

Four, five times. Which meant maybe Robertson was at the controls. Or there was some kind of auto control now that the tank was close to being filled.

 

Which turned Dani’s fright into outright panic.

 

As the water neared the top, the valve might close.

 

She’d be trapped in there.

 

The current against her suddenly eased slightly; maybe it was part of the flow control as the water level reached the top of the tank. She forced herself back in. It was slow going, foot by foot, exhausting on her legs and thighs, and she grunted and screamed out in frustration, hurled back close to the opening into the tank.

 

She hit her head against something.

 

She felt above her. It was a metal rung. On the top of the pipe.

 

This time instead of swimming she rolled onto her back and lunged forward, using the rung to propel her.

 

She found another one.

 

And another.

 

Every five feet or so, maybe used for maintenance work in case of a leak somewhere. It was hard to even make the distance between them with the current beating against her and her strength tiring out.

 

But she had to go on. There was no other choice. The valve could be closing soon.

 

And if they were stopping the water flow, that buzzer also meant that the valve to the outside could close at any time, too. Which petrified her. It was black and creepy in there, like a zero gravity chamber—no sense of space or direction—but Dani willed herself forward. Rung by rung. The current against her weakened. Which to her meant the valve to the outside might be shut and whatever air was in here was coming to an end. She increased her pace, kicking and lunging and gasping for air at every rung, her fingers locking around them, pulling herself through, not even knowing if there’d be a way out at the end or if she’d die in here.

 

She had no idea how far she had to go, only that her strength was giving out. It was dark and gritty and smelled of river sediment and metal. Something slithered against her back and she screamed. Some kind of scaly fish going by.

 

Oh, God, God … she moaned, shutting her eyes. One more rung. Keep going.

 

What if she was wrong? What if this went on for a mile and she wouldn’t have the strength to get to the end? What if when she got there the valve was closed? She would die in here—this dark, wet grave. She decided she’d just let herself go and be carried by the current back to the tank and drown. She thought of her mom. The strength she had shown. Until the end. She didn’t give up. Dani’s arms grew weary. But she couldn’t rest. She gulped in air, and water poured into her mouth. She coughed it out. The conduit might be endless. She could just lie back and go to sleep in this narrow, black grave.

 

One more. She reached out and pulled herself forward. Her fingers slipped off and she fell back into the water. She caught herself and reached back up high.

 

Just one more.

 

Then she saw it.

 

She arched her head back, unable to fully tell if it was real or not.

 

A ribbon of yellowy light, shimmering up ahead.

 

Maybe it was just an illusion. Maybe it was the end for her. What they say happens when you die, when the light comes toward you.

 

One more. She pulled herself forward, her arms like deadweights.

 

The light seemed to grow brighter. It gave her new strength. Renewed will. She pulled. Faster. If there was light, then there had to be an opening of some kind. It grew brighter. Closer.

 

It had to be.

 

The water levels were growing higher here. They were filling the pipeline. Dani had to summon the last of her strength and battle toward the light. She gulped in a last lungful of air and kicked, propelling herself forward by grasping on to the rungs. She didn’t even look ahead. How far was it? She felt the water getting colder. That was a good sign, right?

 

One more rung.

 

Then something happened. The cold water seemed to envelop her and she burst free. She flailed her arms and suddenly there were no more rungs. Bright light swept all around her. Water was everywhere, and cold.

 

She was in the river.