Speaker 1: Hello. I'm welcome stories all the time. Glad you are here.
Let's get into it. I'm going to do you a
favor by telling you this story does not end well.
Nobody's getting out alive. I'm not trying to spoil the ending.
I assure you there are plenty of regrettable surprises to
unwrap before we get there, but I don't want anyone
making themselves sick just to find out what happens. There
are no plot twists, no miracles, no fairy Godmother's biddy
boppty boopino characters to a happy ending. Two men are
going to die deep underground in horrific circumstances the end
for though strong or sick enough to handle them. I'll
spell the details, but it's up to you to decide
if you can hack it. Listen, if the room starts spending,
or the coworker at the desk next to you says, hey,
you're not looking so good, just remember there's no suspense
surrounding the outcome. Here. There's no mystery. It's okay to
finish your day without ever hearing the gory details I'm
about to share. If you're worried somebody's going to corner
you at the coffee station and ask, hey, did you
hear what happened to those spelunkers in Unao? Or here's
what you can say, Margaret, I know what a terrible
way to go problem solved? Or if you want to
sound super impressive, you can say you'd call those guys spelancers.
I call them idiots. Can't say I'm surprised they met
the end they did. The second option will intimidate your
co workers, who will be too astounded by your superior
knowledge of bescaving practices to press any further and expose
their own ignorance on the subject. And if you're upset
to hear me speaking ill of the dead, I don't
know what else to call them? Sad idiots? What else
can you call a pair of inexperienced man who attempt
to explore a marked caverns without taking precautions. Brave bravery
is only respectable when it's necessary. Risk takers are only
sexy when they survive. If you die taking a stupid risk,
you're just, YEP, an idiot. I just don't want other
folks going out and making the same mistakes. Kakanema did
nobody and yes that does include the subjects of our story.
Deserves to go out the way they did? What way
you ask? While I suppose it's time to tell you.
Kirk and Emmett met when they were assigned as random
roommates in their freshman year at Iowa State University. They
didn't become best buds right away, but over the first
semester they discovered they each had interest in outdoorsy activities.
Kirk was an avid hunter and hiker from Boone and
emme at a Cambridge native, love khaking along I was
numerous rivers. When they parted ways for their first holiday break,
they agreed if they were still friends after walking across
the stage to receive their diplomas, they would take a
trip together to celebrate. They had grand visions of hiking
their Palation Trail, or perhaps the Pacific Coast Trail. This was,
of course, before they realized how college would suck their
youthful vigor out and replace it with a sinister dread
otherwise known as student debt. After graduation, the beaten down
exhausted graduates cat there were. Kirk had lined up a
nice starting position at an architecture frem and Ames and
Emmett had landed an audition with Bloody Crops, a semi
local deco band who had just lost their drumma to
a fentanal overdose, not his, but his cousins. Drummer himself
was clean as a whistle, but he awed when he
tried giving his unresponse of cousin mouth to mouth, and
swallowed some of the extra powder in his mustache. Emmett
had decided his degree in business management systems would only
lead him down a path of self hatred and regret.
He would use the degree if he had to, but
he thought he might try his luck in the yarts first,
starting with Bloody Crops. So before Kirk's first day in
Emmitt's audition, the pair decided to drive out east for
a weekend of wilderness exploration. Eastern Iowa is no a placire,
unlike the majority of the state, it does have some
interesting topography, though towards Illinois things get a little craggy.
There's a lot of limestone which is soft and easily eroded.
The rivers and rain have carved out a handful of caves.
Most Iowands know about the Macoka Caves, and many also
know about Cyril's Cave, which is also located along the
Macota River. What Kirk and Emmett wanted to know was
if there were any other less touristy caves in the area.
They wanted to find somewhere the floor hadn't been robbedsmoth
by new balanced sneakers. They went past Macork Cave State
Park and turned down a dirt road that led up
a forested hill. When they were far enough into the
trees to hide Demitz car, he shut it off and
got out. They were pretty sure they were trespassing, so
they didn't want the car to be visible from the road.
They tore matching camera back water bladders on their backs,
canned with a straw that wraps around your heads so
you can drink, and had their trusty phones in their pockets.
They had brought a collection of cliff bars and jerky,
but they left it in the car. They were not
planning on staying on the hill more than a few hours.
That might sound like some kind of ominous foreshadowing, but
food would not have saved those boys, not where they
were going. They hiked up the rocky hillside, taking in
the peaceful atmosphere. They couldn't hear any passing cars, no
planes or helicopters flying overhead, No whining kits or screaming
babies to soil the ambients. A couple squares watched them
from a tree branch, like two old ladies sitting out
on their front porch. What are these two up too? Shure,
nothing good, Gretchen, nothing good. They both started to wonder
if they had made the right coal when they reached
the peak of the stony hill and still found no
sign of any caves, large or small. Some seeing the
hill took almost two asos, which meant it would take
at least that long to get back. Some people might
think going downhill is quicker and easier, but the only
thing that gets easier is breaking your uncle. Gravity is
not your friend when it's s buffered by uneven limestone.
Neither Kirk nor Emmitt felt like giving up, yet, they
decided to split a pop while they descended the other
side of the hill in order to cover more ground.
They would stay with an ear shot and only spend
thirty minutes going down. When the thirty minutes were up,
they would turn around, return to the top and start
the track back to Emmett Carr. The clear blue sky
had started turning orange ahead of them and gray behind them.
When they began the descent. It would no doubt be
dark by the time they returned to the car, but
they calculated they would have just enough light to climb
down the hill about twenty minutes until they agreed upon thirty.
Emm It was starting to think about the beef jerky
stashed in his glove box. It was terryaki flavor, his
second favor. His stomach growled almost loud enough to block
out Cook's for a shouting to him from across the hill,
he finds something. Emmitt shouted back, come see, Kirk called back.
Emmett followed his friend's voice until he could see Kok
stooped over something on the ground. Kerk looked up and
waved him over. Emmy expected Kerk's discovery to be a snake,
or maybe a snake's nest, perhaps something gnarly like a
half eaten corks dropped by a hawk or an eagle.
But what Kerk had found was far more interesting. He
had discovered a narrow crevice in the limestone tie. Emmett,
it looked like the crack went straight down, more like
a well than a cave, but Kerk showed him that
when he shone the light on his phone down into
the crevice, the light reflected off in angled, smooth floor.
The crack went straight down. Yes, but there appeared to
be a small cavern running into the hill beneath them.
Do you Emmett started to ask, but Kerk suddenly jumped
and shouted. The unexpected movement and sound startled Emmitt badly
enough to knock him on to his rear. He almost
mushed his camel back against a rock, but caught himself first. Still,
he was pretty sure he had bruised his tail bone.
Somewhat angrily, he demanded, what what the hell was that about?
Kirk's face looked like a Halloween mask or two golf
ball stuffed into the eye holes. He shivered, then shook
his head and offered Emmett an embarrassed closed lip smile. Sorry, man,
I just there was a rat right over there, he
pointed past Emmett, who instinctively looked over his should it's
gone now, never seen a rap before, Emmett asked, still irritated. No, actually,
not one like that anyway. That one was as big
as a rabbit. I swear sorry, what were you saying?
Emmett picked himself up and tenderly brushed the seat of
his jeans clean on knee when sing once when his
pum nudged his aching tailburn, he said, I was going
to ask if you were sure you wanted to go
down in there. Now I'm even more skeptical. Oh yeah, man,
that was like the whole point in coming out here,
wasn't it? And it pushed past him and sat with
his legs dangling into the cavern. He looked back over
his shoulder and smirked. He looked away, shaking his head
and clucking his tongue. He said, four years, man, four
years we lived together and I had no idea you
were so scared of rats? Do you see where this
is going yet? I'm just going to pause here for
a second to let everything sin can blend it altogether,
will you. I've already told you these guys are going
to die. They're going down into a cave now, and
one of them is deathly terrified of rats. This isn't
for shadowing. This is for warning. If you're too squeamish,
or if your nightmares are too vivid, do not proceed
any further. The rest of you follow me. Let's rejoin
our idiot as they enter the unmarked cave, Beeuf, it's
colder already, Kok remarked as he dropped down beside Emmett.
His eyes shot upward. He felt an oppressive certainty that
the lips of the cave were about to snap shot
above him, and the rock on which they stood would
curl back like a tongue and swallow them into the
dark rout of the cave. Of course, the crevisobove remained open,
but the darkness ahead of them was to hopelessly understate
it intimidating. We didn't bring very good lights, Emmett said,
as if the whole purpose of the trip hadn't been
to find a cave. I only have my phone. Did
you bring something else? Cook asked, No, that's what I mean,
said Emmett. Our phones are all we have. He turned
his phond's flashlight on and shown it into the channel ahead. Well,
from here, it doesn't look too bad. We can always
backwick if things get too tight, or if it drops
off of something. You want to go first, Emmett asked,
as he stared into the triangular passageway. How no, are
you serious? Kirk replied. Emmett shrugged, said suit yourself and
slid sive ways into the cave. It was better that
Emmitt went first of the two. He took up more space.
His forty four minus thirty six jeens had an inch
of clearance in his front and back, which meant Cook's
three thousand, thirty twos at umbel room. As long as
Emmett fit, Kirk would be just fine. That's what he
told himself as the shuffle deeper into the hill. Ironically,
even though the narrower passage gave him more grace than Emmett,
Kirk was by far the more claustrophobic. Already he was
feeling tested. When they had agreed to look for a cave.
He had been picturing something more like Mackworkter, just with
other other people, vague open mouths illuminated in their full
depth by the sunlight alone. No special equipment needed, no lights,
and certainly no bravery. This strange narrow crack in the
earth he had found was pushing him to the cliff's
edge of his fear it widening out up here, Emmett announced.
He bobbed for the nipple on his camel back straw,
but missed. He couldn't raise his arms up to put
it into his mouth yet. How much, asked Kirk, A
good amount. You're doing all right. Emmett noticed Kirk sounded
a little shaky. He hoped his friend going to turn
around and ditch him down there all alone. I'll be
good when I can move. Really, I think how far
ahead looks like? Just a few more yards. Within a minute,
they were standing in a cavern wide enough for each
of them to move freely. The ceiling brushed em his hair,
but having lateral space available was comfort enough. Cook's enthusiasm
returned as he took pictures and walked about the space.
We should tell somebody about this when we get back,
he said. This would actually be a pretty cold place
for people to visit. Emmett stepped in front of him,
blocking his phone from taking another picture. He put both
of his hands on Cook's shoulders and gave him a stern,
bodily look. He said, don't freak out, and don't look now,
but there's a small rat next to the wall behind me.
Kirk looked tepidly past Emmett, but emmittt shifted to block him. Look, man,
I really want to keep going in I don't want
you freaking out, so don't look at it, okay, I'll
tell you when it leaves. Where did it come from?
Kirk asked, I don't know. It probably lies down here,
but like, did it come from up ahead? Are we
going to find more? If we keep going? How? So
would I know? Kirk heard the frustration in Emmet's voice
and felt sorry, sorry for making his friend put up
with his issues. He felt sorry for not thinking through
the various ways in which cave exploration could trigger some
of his phobias, and he felt sorry to himself for
putting himself in this situation. This trip was supposed to
be a celebratory adventure, not a petty potty for Quirky Kirk,
a high skill nicknamed herein for being unable to shower
in the locker room stalls because one getting naked around
the other people scared him, and two the stalls felt
like they were closing in around him. He decided not
to tell Emmett that he really wanted to turn back.
He decided that if Femet was okay, he could be too.
He wouldn't worry about the tat spaces or the ruts
or the fact that they were probably standing beneath one
hundred feet and god knows how many magic tones of
limestone and heading deeper. Oh oh, I see, Emmett said,
breaking Kirk out of the prison of his own vault.
There's a small crack over there. That's where it came from.
He moved aside so Kok could see it. There wasn't
a rut there anymore. But Kok did see the small
tunnel Emmett was talking about. It was only about a
foot tall and half as wide. Kok said, well, let's
get moving before he comes back. I'm feeling good now,
but if he comes shooting out of the thing, I'll
be finished. Roger emm appointed his front, where their channel
continued on the other side of the cavern. Looks like
it stays pretty wide. Keep following me and you'll be fine.
The channel continued to widen before it started closing in again,
about one hundred feet deep. Imm It didn't say anything
that might have said. Kirkiz's shoulders folded back around his
water bladder started rubbing against the cool, slick a limestone.
As long as he could fit. Kirk could fit, and
as long as he kept moving, their venture will continue.
It wasn't until the ceilings started to shrink that Emmitt's
low damp has it looking, Kok asked behind him, It's
starting to tighten up a little bit, but I can
still move you. Okay, I've still got room. Good. They
pressed on, besides expanded slightly even as the ceiling angle downward.
The extra horizontal room allowed Emmet to hunch over. Soon
even Kirk was bending his neck to fit. He didn't
say anything until Emmett was forced down onto his hand
and knees by a low ceiling. I don't need to
remind you, and nobody's going to come looking for us
out here, do I, Cook, ask sarcastically. No, definitely not.
Emmett laughed, But do I need to remind you that,
as long as I can fit, you do a minute
filled with nothing but hunting and sliding past them. By now,
they were both crawling along the channel as a telescope
smaller and smaller. What if he caves in? Kok asped,
in the tone of a somewhat disinterested observer. He didn't
want him to notice. Fear was really eating at him
from the inside out. Do you this thing must have
taken centsureus to form what are the odds that it
would happen to collapse in the same day we show up?
Fair enough, Kirk replied, but he was not placated. They
were now in a section of the tunnels so narrow
it forced Koke to keep his arms out ahead of himself,
and he wondered how emmittt was managing to slide himself along,
how far was his friend going to take them? How
long before he decided it wasn't worth continuing. They had
no idea if there was more to this cave or
if it was just going to be dead end, forcing
them to warn their way out backwards. Thinking along these lines,
Kirk finally asked the sensible question, what if we can
turn around? Emmett paused Kurt, could hear him breathing? How to?
The sound was tibuler and round, as if Emmett were
breathing into a deep empty cap. Emmett feat slid backward
a couple of inches, followed by his bat you know what,
he said, You're right, it looks like this thing only
gets narrower. I wish we knew if there was going
to be somewhere to turn around up ahead. Well we don't,
so think we should call it. Emmett was quiet again,
and Kirk knew he was fighting the urged to push on.
That was immit Free, never one to give up, never
went to back down from a challenge. It was his
personality trait which empowered him to dream of being a
metal drummer instead of using his degree. It was this
tenacity which had on more than one occasion, inspired of
character to complete his engineering degree, even when some of
his friends back home or boasting of new six figure
salaries right out of trade school. And they both knew
that if had been calling through the channel alone, he
would have continued. But he had cuck to think of yet.
Emmett finally said, let's get out of here. Kirk avoided
saying anything to console Emmett. No words could raise the
feeling of defeat eating at his friend. He slid his
legs backwards, then pushed his torso back through the channel.
He moved like a caterpillar in reverse. Em it'scooted backward
in the same manner. Reversing proved far more difficult than
either of them had expected. That they realized how much
more space the act of slinking backward required. Neither of
them would have pressed on as far as they had.
Does it feel skinnyer to you this time? Kerkat half joking.
Ammtt only grunted in response. Kirk was used to emmic
cracking jokes in bad situations. Emmitt typically had a humorous
outlook on everything. Hey man, you doing okay? Kirk asked
the souls of Emmett's boots. Emmit gral, just keep going?
Yeah okay. Kirk slid backward. The channel was so narrow
here that he couldn't move one leg at a time.
He had to hold them tightly against each other and
push them back in a single movement. He catapulled his
tauser back, then tried to slide his legs again, but
one refused to move, trapping the other. Emmet's boot kicked
into Kirk's face. Hey hold up, Kirk shouted through the
dirty rubber SMI ushed into his cheek. Are you stuck?
Emmett asked, no, I just got her. Kirk shifted himself
slightly and tried again, but his leg wouldn't much. I
think my. He pulled his knees up maybe half an inch.
It was all he could manage, and pushed again, but
was impeached once more. Ah, I think my beard leg
is caught. Are you serious? Emmett asked, Does it sound
like I'm joking? Kirk's bat His voice bordered on hysteria.
So much anxiety tore through the small space between the
two men that them it felt it invade him in
an intoxicating rush. Okay, what if I give you some
room to move forward? Emmett asked, try it, demanded Kirk.
Emmett scuffed both elbows as he awkwardly slid them along
through the rough limestone. It had been wet the first
time they had come through, but after both he and
Kirk had slid through it twice, the rock was dry
as bone and as gritty as sandpaper. Emmett didn't even
sense the pain as his elbows were ground down, leaving
thin trails of blood eagerly lapped up by the spongy stone.
The channel felt height than ever. In Emmett's mind, the
stone was closing in around them, swallowing them. In reality,
his mushrooming panic was causing him to use base less efficiently.
It's too tight, that's all I got, he informed Kirk.
He listened to Cook's boot scuffle against the stone, and
as his friend tried kicking the trap boot off. Oh man,
it's really stuck, Kirk said, So reach back there and
fix it. Emmy shouted, How am I supposed to do that?
Kerk snapped. He tried again to free himself while he
took a long, comforting sip from his camel back. At
least he still had water. In between SIPs, he heard
a faint nose behind him, a scratching sound more harsh
than the sound of his rubber soles and the limestone.
What is that, Kerk asked, What is what? Emmett sounded
dangerously impatient. There was a sun behind me. How the
hell would I know what it is? What could it be? Though?
Kirk asked, he was really trying not to think about
the small raud Emitt claimed to have seen in the cavern.
Might it have followed them into this tunnel? Are you
seriously stuck? Emmett asked, as if the previous few seconds
hadn't happened. Yes, I told you, man. Kerkyelt ahead. Something
nibbled at his boot. He couldn't feel it, but he
heard it. It sounded curious, like a toddler nibbling at
a strange new cracker. Hey, get back get back you,
little Kerk stamped the nibblefoot. The rats squaked before retreating,
confirming Kerk's worse fear. Somehow, he would have been less
afraid of a raccoon, or certainly of a square. There
was just something about rats that ate at him. Is
the rat you saw? He told Emmett somewhere behind me. Now.
Emmett didn't care. His only aim was to get out
of this cave alive. His friend blocked the way back
and apparently couldn't do anything to help himself. In his
paralyzed position, Emmy couldn't do anything to help Kirk either.
His only option was to forge ahead. He wasn't helpful
about what he might find aya, but moving sounded a
lot better than laying still and waiting for Kirk to
maybe free himself. I'm going to push forward again, he
told Kirk. Kerk once more felt ignored. What No, man,
don't leave me here. I don't want to be alone
with this thing. Listen, Emmett said, if I can find
somewhere up ahead to turn myself around, I can come
back through head first. I'll help get you free so
we can both get out of here. What about the rat?
It's not like I can do anything about it now,
is there? That's not Kirk. Emmitt commanded, that's enough, I'll
be right back, Leaving Kirk whimpering to himself. Emmit called forward.
Having a plan leveled his emotions and allowed him to
control his movements better than before. He used the available
space efficiently and allowed his anxious feelings to propel him
rather than hint to him. They were fuel for his
exhaustive mind and drain body. Soon he found himself starving
into the sin telescope in section that had convinced him
to retreat, It appeared to get down further into the hill.
He could only see perhaps a dozen feet of the
passageway ahead. If he wasn't careful, he could get himself
stuck like Kerk had. And then what they each died alone,
unable to move. Would they run out of oxygen or
starve to death? Probably neither. Most likely they would die
of thirst. M It had but two options. Crawl back
and be trapped with Kirk, or forge ahead and maybe
find a way to free them both. He chose the latter.
Half way to the downward curve in the channel, Emmett
knew he was rapidly reaching the end of his journey,
he could no longer the use's legs or hips at all.
He had to drag himself along by his elbows if
he could even make it to wear the passage ship down.
He doubted he would make it much further unless the
channel expanded, but still he dragged himself forward. Finally, the
channel grew so narrower emm it could no longer move.
Before he resigned completely. He pointed his phone ahead to
survey the upcoming to rain. He saw with some surprise
that what he had thought was a downward curve in
the channel was actually a mouth, or perhaps the other end,
since the place they had entered would likely be considered
the mouth. The craggy Ain is let out into another
wide cavern. This was exactly what Emmett had hoped for.
Getting to the cavern would involve hundreds of minuscule movements
and probably a kind of physical agony he had never experienced,
as the flesh of his arms was rubbed away on
the rocks. But he had to try. Kerk allowed himself
to believe Emmett would return and save him. Time passed
slowly in the cave. However, Kirk thought Emmett had been
absent for twenty minutes when he had only been gone
for six. At the six minute mark, Kirk began to
lose his cool again. He started telling himself Emmett would
never come back. He pictured his friend in the same
predicament as himself, just fred the head where the tunnel
was even skinner. At least Emmett wouldn't have to worry
about rat creeping around his feet. The rat returned after
Emmett had been gone for eight minutes. Kirk held his
breath when he heard his scurry up to him. He
laced ill, hoping it would leave him alone. It didn't work.
He soon felt the creature tugging at his laces. He
could hear the thirds tearing each time his foot jerked.
If only the rat had focused on the other foot,
the laces that were caught, the creepy animal had the
power to free him, and that only made Kirk angry
on top of being disgusted and terrified. He tried nudging
the rat toward the trap foot, but it kept returning
to the free one. Soon Kirk gave up. He thought
maybe if the rat enjoyed the lace from one boot,
it would eat up the other one. Once it was finished,
we shall think king instead. When the ras u was
dune playing with the brute lace, it explored Kirk's leg.
He could feel it studding him. Its paws occasionally scratched
at his pants. Then one sharp little rat par slept
beneath Kirk's jeans and found his tacky, sweaty skin. The
rat chirp and another rat responded it out of here.
Kirk shouted as he kicked. The rats squeaked in pain,
bescurreed right back to his leg. A second set of
paws ran up the length of Kirk's calf, then back down.
The two rats chirped back and forth to each other
like mating birds. One of them slipped it once out
into Kok's punt le like no. Kirk screamed. The rat
wriggled in further No. Its nose rubbed his skin, it
at it sunk its teeth into the flesh of his calf.
Whatever Kerk's green necks was entirely unintelligible. The other rat
run up his shaking leg to escape the violent defense.
It found itself trapped where Kok's comeback was pres flushed
against the stone ceiling. But if you know anything about rats,
you know their creative creatures, their survivors. In the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries, some people placed rats inside a automous
metal cage upon the stomach of a person who was
suspected of this crime or that. The interrogator would put
hot coals atop the cage, one at a time until
the heat became unbearable to the rat. It would burrow down,
forging an escape through the flesh and organs of the accused.
The rat required no training to perform this torturous act.
The burrow was in their nature. To dig, to claw,
to bite is at the very core of what it
means to be a rat. The stone tore em it
shot in his shoulder and stomach regions. His back felt
wet with more than swist, so he assumed his camerback
had been torn open as well. He now hurt his
head and arms through the opening. Like Winnie the prew
trying to get home after eating too much honey, his
lower two thirds was still wedge tight inside the tunnel.
Old balda with a tremendous heave, which strained one of
his drobbing elbows. He managed to pop his camel back
out of the hole. The rest of him followed easily.
Once that was out of the way, he fell three
feet to the slick floor, landing ungracefully on the side
of his face. He allowed himself a minute to move
about freely. His chest heaved as he took an air
he hadn't had enough room for back in the channel.
He let his arms swing at his sides, resting his
sore shoulders and lads. Regrettably, their job was far from over.
Once he felt like he could raise his arms without
agonizing his muscles, he removed his torn camel back and
tossed it away, empty and useless. He was gud to
be rid of it, and for the immeasurable value its
absence would afford him. Emmett was still not ready to
return to the channel, but he heard Cook's echoing voice.
He had heard his friend yelling at the rat before her,
but now he sounded lonesome and nervous. Emmett wondered if
maybe Kok's fawn had died, or maybe he just couldn't
handle a few minutes on his own. He supposed he
himself was only handling the separation so well because he
could move freely. It was Kirk's second cry, a stomach churning,
gurgling sword of sound, which sent Annet back into action.
He had never heard such a sound come from a
person before. It was no agitated wail, but a primal
bellow of agony, like a rat. Emmett's curried back into
the tunnel head first. Without his camel back, Emmitt could
move much freer and more quickly. His progress did not
come without pain, excruciating at times, but it was progress
none the less. As he need Kirk Kerk's horrible screaming
grew louder and more frequent. Emittt directed all of his
energy into his limbs as he called and kicked his
way forward, occasionally breathing deeply enough to call out and coming.
Kerk's gargling screams were intermixed with brief words like no,
stop and most desperate of all, please, but mostly his
noises were unintelligible. Soon Emmitt reached the section where the
tunnel widened slightly, so he knew he was getting close.
Kuk coughed a wet sound, and a grotesque spatter echoed
to Emma. He tried not to think about crawling through
his friend's vomit and pressed on no more words famed
and Kok's screams. The screams themselves were beginning to wane,
as if Kirk were falling asleep. Emmit could not have
him passing out. If Kirk blacked out, if Emmit could
not wake him back up, their phones would die and
they would run out of light before they could escape.
His own phone had less than twenty percent of its
battery left. He shouted, stay awake, stay with me. He
expected to gobble gibberish screams, to mo off back into
human noises words, but Kerk still sounded a utterly void
of humanity. He coughed again, which was followed by another
splatter of food on cold stone. Hang on, Emmett shouted,
he was close now. He could smell kirk sweat, He
could smell the vomit. He could smell something metallic too. Blood.
He told himself he was imagining this, or maybe smelling
his own blood. He could not imagine Kerk had bled
enough to create an odor more powerful than puke. Emmett
tossed his phone a few feet ahead to free both
of his hands for a final horst. It landed at
the flask light pointed down, and for a moment the
tunnel was pitch black. Kerk's final scream faded, and the
darkness became silence as well. Kerk. Emmett yelled, dragging his
aching body forward. He felt around until he found his
phone and lifted it. The light reflected off of Kerk's
open eyes and pale face. His head had dropped side
was into the puddle of blood and vomit which covered
the stone in front of him. Spouted blood flecked the
corners of his mouth. One of his bulging eyes was red.
Emmett wriggled his way closer. Kerk's jaw moved weakly, as
if he were trying to whisper something. Kerk, buddy, I'm here.
I'll get you out so we can go, Emmett said.
He looked into his friend's eyes, one vacant, the other
blood shot. He assumed all the screaming had broken the
eyes blood vessels. Kerk's jaw moved again. Come on, just
tell me what it is. I'm here, Emmitt said. Kok'
slipped parted slightly in it, slid closer and turned his
ear towards Cook's parted lips. A small squeak escaped his mouth.
That's all right, emm It assured him. I'll just see
if I can reach around you, and Kerk's mouth split
open and his bloated black tumnelolled out. Emmitt shouted in
surprise and disgust and pushed himself back. The tongue dripp
blood into the ever growing puddle as it wigged back
and forth. Emmett shone his light directly and the blackened
organ and saw it wasn't a tongue at all, but
the head of an enormous rat calling out of Kok's mouth.
The creature's fur was saturated with dark blood. It barely
fited between Kerk's red teeth, while its tail slid out
of Kok's frot like a needle being swallowed backwards. A
second ruined peered in Kok's mouth. This one carried his
real tongue between its own teeth as it passed through Kok's.
As he screamed, Emmitt watched he had the third rout
emerged from the tunnel they had created through his friend
his room made of four years. They emerged ready discovery
through the tunnel, only to find a blocked by yet
another flashy obstacle. They stood three in a row on
their hind legs, stirring at Emmett, and he stared back.
A fourth rot dug its way out of Kirk. Then
a fifth. Emmett started backing up, but the ruts kept coming.
They had heard that a Cajo had meet Buffett, had
come to their home, and they were ready to feast.
Soon the rats had filled the space between him and Kirk.
They were crawling over his head, smearing his face with
Kirk's blood. One of them poked its nose into his
mouth and he chomped at it into fence, squeaked, and retreated,
only to be replaced by another. A third ratbit at
his nostril, while fourth chomped off his ear lob. Emmett retreated,
ignoring every painfully and rob in his abuse body as
he desperately reversed away from the horde of Rudence. But
unlike the exhausted man, the rats were fresh and invigorated.
Even as he pushed some away from his ears, others
were gnawing at his nose. He kept his mouth close tight,
but they started biting and clawing at his soft cheeks.
One lunge for his right eye. He managed to close
it just in time, but his thin eyler did little
to slow the creature. They grew so thick around his
face that he couldn't breathe. No matter how quickly he
moved backward, they filled in and smothered him. Soon he
had backed up to where the channel grew narrow again,
which fatally slowed his progress. By the time they knowed
their way to his second hyble, Emmett could also feel
them entering his mouth through his cheeks, behind his molders.
When they started chewing at his gums, consciousness mercifully abandoned him.
So there you have it, didn't I warn you? Don't
say I didn't. I don't want to hear any complaints.
I told you at the beginning, and warned you again
in the middle. I gave you every signal, every sign
possible for the few of you that made it this far.
I hope you've received this warning. Well. The wilderness is
in a playground. It's a harsh, desolate place, beautiful but merciless.
It can be in joy, but it has to be respected.
If you don't take it seriously. If you don't respect it,
it might just eat you alive. And that is the end,
thank you for listening and I will see you in
the next one.