“It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt,
It lies behind stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills,
It comes first and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter.”
Whitney and Nathan entered the cave, one after the other, sliding down a gradual sand embankment of not more than three feet. The passageway initially was tight. Inside the cavern the ceiling dramatically ascended. The moonlight from the opening of the cave provided a glimpse of vision. As they cautiously advanced from the opening of the grotto the children were entirely engulfed in darkness, two blind mice sneaking through a room full of cats. Whitney halted with Nathan behind her. The air was thick and moist and smelled of guano. Unable to determine the height of the cave Whitney listened. At first, she was only aware of her heavy breaths. She willed her breathing to become shallow so as not to alert the colony of unseen bats. She struggled to dismiss the desperate nature of this ill-advised rescue mission. In the distant she heard the distinct noise of water as if someone had left a faucet running on the stone floor of the cavern. In the same direction she made out the sound of whimpering. She laid motionless with her face pressed against the cavern floor. She blinked several times attempting to gain some vision, but her effort was futile. The cave remained entirely dark. Nathan, following Whitney’s progress waited silently as well. Whitney concentrated on the noise she heard. At once her heart lifted for she understood that Kyle made the pleading cries. She moved towards the noise. Nathan, dutifully followed. The two children crept deliberately as their chests pressed against the slick soiled surface of the cave’s moist floor. Their hands acted to pull them forward dragging their still lower torso. The going was slow and maddening. Bat droppings plopped constantly along the children’s route creating an improvised fiendish pattern, a growing sprinkle serving as an overture for a threatening downpour.
In uncertain moments hope is substituted by despair, a grotesque misshapen brute, who coerces with taunting ridicule, the bully on the playground that no-one dares to confront. It’s remarkable in the savage grip of such fear that Whitney and Nathan advanced guided by the unknown. The constant cascading water muffled the children’s movement as well as guided their pursuit. Whitney had observed that Kyle’s distressing cry was approximated in the recess of the cave where the water poured. She was miserable with each movement in the blackness of this bat latrine. Imagine coexisting with such fear as the children must have, anticipating the doom that awaited them as they slid along the cave’s floor. A solitary second amidst such distress seems eternal. Is this how someone who awaits their execution feels? Whitney had done nothing wrong except to insist that she slept over at her cousin’s house. She had heard about the stories of the boys’ antics when they were together, but how could she ever have imagined this situation? At this moment she understood that her doubt fed her growing despair. These thoughts only hindered her progress. She was determined more than ever to focus on her sole pursuit, to rescue her cousin.
Whitney stopped, suddenly aware of deep rapid breathing directly in front of her. The sound of the waterfall too was more apparent. She peered above her cognizant of a new perception. A stream of moonlight revealed another small aperture in the cave. The stream of light above her emitted through the small hole lifted her spirit. She strained to raise her head slightly. She detected an unnatural moving reflection of light bobbing on one of the high walls of the cavern as if someone held a mirror in the sunlight while swaying. Whitney was aghast when she saw the large dark mass on the ceiling. The bats were packed together eerily hanging from the ceiling of the cave. She spotted among the horde an astonishing immense shape whose red eyes appeared like two lasers that seemed to be directed at the object directly in front of her. Her fear ascended when she realized that the figure above was the leader of the calamity of bats, the enormous beast whose size rivaled her own. From its neck was the gold medallion that caused the swaying reflection on the wall. This was the same colossal bat that she and Nathan had spotted from the safety of the deck. The anticipated confrontation had been revealed, a drumroll of trepidation blared in Whitney’s mind. In the darkness she extended her hand. Guided by her approximation to her cousin, Whitney’s hand covered Kyle’s mouth. She whispered, “We’re here.”
Given the unimaginable course of events that had overwhelmed him, one could hardly fault Kyle for the involuntary reaction that he had when he learned that his cousins had found him. Repulsed by the taste of bat guano on his lips he bit down on Whitney’s hand. She reacted out of reflex removing her hand from over his mouth. Kyle subsequently squealed a single cry of joy. The noise alerted the bats above like an isolated gun-blast in the still of the night. A swarming cyclone of activity was heard above. The colony of bats was so immense that their combined wings taking flight fanned the damp cave’s air. The camp of bats poured over the children commanded by Zeborg. The three children sprang to their feet holding their defenseless hands against the anticipated onslaught of winged beasts. Their backs were drenched as they pressed closer against the rushing wall of water. Left with desperation to guide them they turned facing the cascade.
Distress or faith? Two words suggesting opposite meanings. Some claim that one can not exist without the other. Whatever was on their minds the children, all at once, leapt through the wall of water.