Sunshine ~ Chapter One
By Rosemarie Hauer

"Anybody there?" she managed hoarsely, annoyed by her own irrational reaction. Gradually she felt her lawyer’s mind surface again, but not before cursing herself for the irresponsible game of hide and seek her friends and she had been playing in the park. Like a gang of silly children, she thought, feeling along her legs for any palpable injury.

If only Greg hadn’t dared her, she thought, gently massaging the ache in her ankle. If only she had been able to set aside her silly pride. If only...

She shook off those thoughts with a resolute movement of her head.

Regrets would get her nowhere. Slowly she began to explore her surroundings, hoping desperately she wouldn’t encounter anything creepy or slimy. You’ve watched too many horror movies, Chandler, she told herself as she got up on hands and knees and cautiously crawled along the rough rock wall she could feel to her right. For once she wished she hadn’t sneaked out of her office at her father’s law firm before time, but a trip to the park with her friends had been too tempting, especially on such a lovely spring day.

Suddenly the soft surface of the ground ended and her palms encountered a stony floor. Assessing the height of the room, she straightened for a moment before she went on, feeling her way along the rough, rocky wall.

"Please don’t move," she heard a soft, low voice and she froze.

"Who’s there?" she gasped.

"Sit down," the voice commanded, ignoring her question.

Never one who liked being told what to do, Catherine felt anger well up

In her chest, but before she could utter any protest, the voice continued.

"You’ve gotten yourself in a dangerous position, so please listen to me."

Despite herself, Catherine obeyed. She sat down slowly, waiting for him to continue.

"There are more holes and shafts ahead of you, so please stay where you are. Someone will come for you."

Catherine’s mind spun. "Who are you?" she asked. "Where am I?" But there was no answer. Terrified she realized she was alone again.

Minutes trickled by like sand in an hourglass, and Catherine found her thoughts revolving around the voice that had come seemingly out of nowhere. What kind of a person would spend his time below ground in this darkness? How had he found her? Ruefully she recalled her scream as she fell. But where had the mysterious stranger come from? Obviously there was some other access to this place, a thought she found vastly reassuring.

Voices penetrated the silence and suddenly a faint glow appeared at the far end of the tunnel. Catherine looked around her, swallowing at the realization of how narrow the passage actually was. "There she is," a woman said, and Catherine turned her face toward the voices.

A group of three people with torches approached her. They pressed themselves against the tunnel walls as they walked, thus avoiding the gaps and holes in the ground. Finally a young man came to stand before her.

"Are you hurt?" he asked with concern.

Catherine shook her head. "A sprained ankle maybe. Nothing serious."

And with a glance at the woman and another young man she asked, "Where am I?"

The man smiled. "I’m Simon," he said, pointedly ignoring her question.

"And this is Rebecca and Stephen."

"And who...?" Catherine wanted to inquire further, but Simon interrupted her.

"We will get you out of here," he promised, bending to help her up.

"Come," Rebecca said, "and watch out where you set your foot."

It was a laborious hike and Catherine had to admit that her ankle hurt more than she had expected, but finally they arrived at a door which as firmly locked. Stephen retrieved a key from his pocket and fumbled with the lock.

Finally he stepped aside to let them all pass through before he locked the door again behind them. The farther they walked, the wider the tunnels became, and gradually Catherine felt the nauseating effects of claustrophobia leave her. She relaxed a little as she limped between Rebecca and Simon, bracing her weight heavily onto the shoulders of her rescuers.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "What is this place?"

"It’s our home," Rebecca said, smiling.

Suddenly Catherine felt unusually humbled and embarrassed. "I’m sorry I intruded," she apologized quietly.

"We should have sealed that shaft long ago," Simon replied simply, and

she was relieved that nobody seemed to blame her. Catherine would have loved to learn more about the stranger whose voice had prevented her from getting even deeper into trouble, but it was quite obvious that no one wanted to talk about him.

At last she was led through a narrow entryway and felt her eyes widen with surprise as she found herself in a vaulted chamber that was filled with books, which lay scattered across every available space in the room.

"Please have a seat," Rebecca said after leading her down a small wooden staircase, and then Catherine was suddenly alone with a thousand thoughts and questions in this strange and impressive place.

From his hiding place behind a shelf on the balcony Vincent looked down at the woman who sat at Father’s desk, waiting. He admired her patience, and the quiet way she looked around herself in wonderment touched him. He was glad he had found and warned her in time. That section of the tunnels was treacherous and a great danger to somebody who wasn’t familiar with the holes and pitfalls in the tunnel floor.

Unable to help himself, Vincent noted the way the woman’s soft hair spilled over her neck and shoulders as she leaned back her head and scanned the upper region of the study. His heart skipped a beat as her eyes wandered in his direction, and swiftly he withdrew his head. With a soundless groan he dropped to the floor and closed his eyes. A wound almost as old as he burst open and started bleeding again. She must not see him. Never. Her fear and disgust would hurt too much. He wouldn’t chance that with anybody. Not ever again. Slowly he got to his feet and left the study through a small, well-hidden opening in the back wall.

Catherine turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind her. Leaning heavily onto a cane, a gray-haired man limped up to her and rounded the desk to take his seat opposite her. For a moment they studied each other with curiosity - but also with respect, Catherine noted with relief.

"I’m told you literally dropped into our world," the old man opened the conversation.

"I’m truly sorry for intruding upon you," Catherine replied honestly. Shaking her head, she added, "It was a silly game of hide and seek. I can’t believe we were so careless."

"I am sorry, too," he replied. "Unfortunately we have to make sure that you fully understand what’s at stake for us here before we can...allow you to return above."

Catherine felt her eyes widen in disbelief. "Are you telling me that I’m not allowed to leave?"

"For a while, yes," came the apologetic reply. "Now let’s have a look at your ankle. Simon told me you hurt yourself."

For a second Catherine considered declining the offer, but when she met the old man’s quiet eyes her defiance evaporated. She bent forward to roll up her jeans and allow him an examination of her injury. Catherine looked down at the gray-haired man as he probed along the bone carefully.

"It’s a sprain," he said. "Nothing serious, but you shouldn’t put weight on it for at least three days. I will apply a bandage to support your ankle."

He straightened and walked over to a cupboard at the opposite wall. Catherine watched as he retrieved a package before returning to her.

"What is this place?" she asked suddenly. "Why is it such a secret?"

He knelt down in front of her, looking up at her solemnly as he took her foot in his hand. "Please have a little patience," he said. "You will learn everything you need to know in order to..."

"In order to...?" she prompted when he fell silent.

"In order to understand and respect this place," he replied, starting to wrap the bandage around her ankle. "And to protect it by keeping it a secret."

Catherine shook her head. "Couldn’t you just take my word for it?" she asked.

The old man shook his head. "I’m afraid that is not enough. We need your understanding first of all."

She opened her mouth to contradict, but he stilled her with a gesture of his hand.

"Later," he promised. "Now go and have some rest."

As if on cue the young woman named Rebecca appeared on top of the staircase. "Come with me," she said, descending the steps. "I’ll show you where you can lay down for a while."

Catherine didn’t feel like resting at all. She was much too agitated. Yet she rose from the chair obediently, grateful when Rebecca took her arm to support her.

"Thank you," Catherine murmured as she allowed herself to be led from the room.

Vincent slumped back against the wall of the corridor outside the study. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but now Father’s words burned in his soul. How could he...? But then again, what else were they to do? Father was right, they had to make sure the woman stayed at least until after a proper council meeting.

A message went across the pipes, a call for help, and soon he saw Rebecca hurrying towards the study. He watched from the far end of the corridor as she guided the woman to her quarters, quietly talking to her on their way. Only when they were out of sight dared he enter the study and approach Father’s desk.

"Ah, Vincent," Father greeted him." I’m afraid we have to call in a council meeting. It’s..."

"You can’t do that, Father," Vincent interrupted his parent. "You can’t hold her prisoner down here."

"What do you suggest then?" Father asked calmly. Shrugging helplessly, Vincent shook his head. "I don’t know, but there must be a better solution."

"I know how hard this is on you," the older man continued. "We will make certain that she won’t see you, Vincent. Hopefully it won’t take long."

Vincent threw up his hands in a gesture of contradiction, but one look at his father’s determined expression made him realize how futile any attempt at dissuasion would be. Shaking his head, he turned and left the room.

When Vincent managed to fall asleep at last, his dreams were restless and bizarre, and the whole time he felt like drifting just below the surface of his mind. Suddenly he jerked awake and sat up in bed abruptly.

"Who’s there?" he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

"I...I’m sorry," a female voice murmured and when he sat up, he saw a slender figure slipping out of his chamber. He didn’t catch more than a glimpse of her back before she disappeared through the entryway, but he recognized her by her limp. Alarmed, he jumped up and dressed hastily, following the woman quickly. Her soft footfall was easy for his acute hearing to detect, and soon he spotted her ahead of him.

Vincent realized she was moving away from the home chambers. She is fleeing, he thought with dawning realization, helpless to suppress the admiration he suddenly felt for her. But the next moment he found himself wondering how much she had seen back there in his chamber. Probably not much, he decided at last, or else she would have screamed instead of apologizing. She moved out of sight, and he accelerated his steps, hoping he could remain close enough to keep her out of harm’s way. He knew she mustn’t see him, or there would be one more reason for his community not to let her return above.

Catherine felt her blood pound in her ears as she ran down yet another of the countless tunnels that seemed to form an enormous labyrinth below the city. There must be a way out, she reassured herself. Surely even this seemingly endless maze must end somewhere. With a groan of frustration she hit her fist against the rock as she reached yet another dead-end.

Exhausted, she slumped to the floor and hugged her arms around her knees. Finally she admitted to herself that she had no idea where she was and how far she had run. There simply seemed to be no way out of here.

An image drifted by her inner eye - of the man she had encountered sleeping as she had taken a wrong turn earlier. She hadn’t been able to make out his face, since he’d lain on his stomach. All she had actually seen was a wealth of long, reddish hair spilling over broad shoulders. She wondered why he might live down here, why young and strong people like Rebecca and Simon didn’t make a life above. What could it be that compelled them to choose a life in darkness over a life in a world full of possibilities?

She shook off the thought. Whoever the man in the chamber had been, he wouldn’t have helped her anyway. He was one of them, of that odd community who were so adamant that their existence remain a secret. Catherine had to admit to herself that she had felt no immediate threat from those people. It was just that she found the thought of being confined to a world of chambers and tunnels for an indistinct span of time intolerable, especially without having the chance of contacting her father and friends.

Ignoring the pain in her ankle, she scrambled to her feet and retraced her steps until she reached the last juncture of corridors that had forced a choice of direction upon her. A wrong choice - again!

From his perch on a boulder about ten feet above the pond Vincent watched as the young woman entered the chamber of the falls, gasping as she took in the impressive view. Fortunately the light slanting in from overhead seemed to be too dim for her to detect him among the shadows of rocks and crevices. He on the other hand could see her quite clearly, and the stunned expression on her face touched him.

She walked toward the water’s edge and knelt down to probe the water with her fingers. He smiled when she quickly withdrew her hand. The ponds and lakes below were quite cold with few exceptions where warm springs created pools that were perfect for bathing.

He watched as she shrugged out of her jacket and pulled off her sweater. When she started undoing the buttons of her blouse, he quickly averted his eyes, but not before he had glimpsed her bare shoulders and the soft swell of her breasts, ill-concealed by a lacy bra. From the splashing sounds that reached him he could tell she was washing herself, and he wished she had a towel or something to quickly get dry and warm again. It was easy to catch a cold down here with the drafts from above constantly sweeping through the caverns and corridors.

When he dared look again she had put on her blouse and sweater, but her jacket was rolled into a pillow for her head as she was lying on her side, resting. Long minutes trickled by, and when she didn’t move at all, Vincent left his hiding place and approached her carefully. She was deeply asleep. Uncertain what to do, he assessed the possible danger of her rolling into the water if she shifted her position. Finally he decided the greater danger was that her body would chill if she slept for a longer period of time. He knew he should wake her somehow, but one look at her drawn face, so peaceful in her slumber, told him she needed her rest very badly. After a pause of hesitation he took off his cloak and covered her solicitously. His hand brushed against her shoulder and she stirred in her sleep. Swiftly he retreated to the shadows to watch over her.

As he sat there waiting for the right moment to retrieve his cloak before she awoke, he pondered his options. What exactly could he hope to achieve by following her? All he could do was keep her as safe as possible. He doubted that he could make her go back and turn herself over to Father’s hands. As far below as she was by now, he couldn’t show her out either, at least not without revealing himself - and that was not an option. He couldn’t risk frightening her. In order to survive down here one needed a clear head and a calm mind. The corridors and passageways were treacherous and the possibility of rock fall and cave-ins was a threat to be reckoned with.

Vincent sat down on the sandy floor and leaned against the rocky tunnel wall. All he could do was wait and play it by ear. He was used to waiting and patience was something he had learned the hard way over the years.