Rosemarie Hauer's SUNLIGHT
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CHAPTER ONE
 It’s like a bad dream, Catherine thought as she found herself falling. She hardly recognized the scream reverberating through the darkness around her as her own. It took her a while to comprehend that she was lucky enough to have landed on a relatively soft surface. Her heart raced frantically in her chest as she struggled to regain her breath. Then panic set in. Never in her life had she experienced a darkness as absolute as this. She wanted to scream again, but her throat felt as if a huge fist was closing around it. Gagging helplessly, she fought for air. “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, 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 was 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 being 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 live 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. *
Cozy warmth was enveloping her, comforting her, and for a moment Catherine was transported back in time, feeling like a child, safe in her own bed with her mother close by. Suddenly something was there, hovering over her, touching her to snatch the warmth away, and she spun around instinctively, catching at that something, gripping it firmly. She heard a sharp intake of breath and her eyes flew open, widening in shock as she found herself face to face with a stranger. His features were shrouded in darkness since he stood with his back to the opening that connected the cavern with some mysterious source of light. The shadows playing across the planes and angles of his face made him appear otherworldly and unreal. Never before had she seen anything like him and her weary mind didn’t even try to come up with an explanation for what she was seeing. Gradually her vision adjusted to the meager light in this place and she could see him more clearly. His gaze was locked to hers and it took her several moments to realize that the expression on his face betrayed something akin to panic. There was a flicker of pain in his eyes and only when he dropped his gaze to her hand did she notice that she was still holding his wrist in an iron grip, her nails digging through the fabric of his sleeve. She released him immediately, relieved when he took a step in retreat, but his eyes remained locked to hers. Gradually she became aware of the heavy garment that was wrapped around her and it dawned on her that it was his, that he had covered her with this peculiar cloak to keep her warm. Catherine rose to her feet, puzzled by the emotions tumbling trough her as she studied his face more closely. His nose was broad and furry, his upper lip cleft and muzzle-like, and his chin and cheeks were bristled with soft-looking stubble. He didn’t speak, obviously giving her time to digest the sight before her. She shrugged off the cloak and held it out to him. For a long, endless moment he simply stood there, ignoring her gesture as he kept staring at her. He was probably studying her for any signs of fear or repulsion and she was amazed to feel neither. “Who are you?” she heard her own shaky voice, her arms aching under the weight of the heavy garment. No answer was forthcoming and for a moment she wondered if he was capable of speech at all. She watched as he reached for his cloak and then lowered his head, his long saffron mane concealing his features. “I’m Vincent,” he said simply as if that would explain everything, and in a way it did. The moment she heard his voice she knew that he was the one who had warned her from the pitfalls ahead of her when she had dropped into the shaft. Her mind started to form questions and she had to close her eyes in order to gather her swirling thoughts. His intense stare did nothing to ease her plight. Those deep set eyes had an unsettling quality to them and she wondered fleetingly what they might look like in the full light of day. “You belong to them,” she stated at last. “You came after me to take me back.” Vincent shook his head. “These tunnels are dangerous for someone who is not familiar with our world. I wanted to keep you from harm.” Catherine pondered his reply carefully. “How far would you have allowed me to go? What if I had found my way out? Would you have allowed me to leave?” “You wouldn’t have found your way out,” he said, and she was under the impression that he kept his voice carefully neutral. “Then what?” she asked. “Are you telling me I would have wandered these tunnels until I’d have died of starvation?” “I wouldn’t have let you starve,” he replied. She frowned. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m afraid I’m getting really hungry.” He stood there motionless and for a moment she wondered if he had heard her, but then he smiled, a half-smile that came more from his eyes than his mouth, and Catherine could honestly say that she’d never seen anything like that smile. *
Vincent glanced furtively at the woman sitting opposite him. She seemed deeply in thought as she was stirring the embers of the fire. He could feel her anger at him, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. He couldn’t lead her out without the decision of the council. He didn’t know enough about her to shoulder the responsibility of simply letting her go. She had told him her name was Catherine. No last name, just Catherine. He understood that she needed to feel in control of the situation at least to some degree, and to keep her distance helped her do just that. He couldn’t help but admire her courage. She didn’t seem to be afraid of him, not at all. Probably because she had recognized his voice and knew by now that all he wanted was to keep her safe. But suddenly keeping her safe wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted her to be comfortable, and that was something she couldn’t be down here in a place like this — with no light and no freedom. His heart ached for her and he raised his head to glance at her again. He was surprised to find her gazing at him silently. Normally people avoided looking at him after they had gotten over the initial shock of his appearance. Catherine however studied him intently and he had to make a conscious effort to meet and hold her gaze. “Do they know where I am?” she asked. “I don’t think so,” he replied carefully. She made a study of her own hands. “They didn’t send you after me?” He shook his head no, almost glad when she fell silent for a while. “Will they come for me?” she finally asked. “I told them I would see to it that you are safe,” he replied evasively. “What do you mean you told them?” She stared at him expectantly, knitting her brows together in a dubious frown. Vincent hesitated, momentarily uncertain how much to tell her about his world. Finally he decided that the more she knew about it the larger the probability that she would understand and protect it. “We can send messages across the pipes,” he began. “It’s a type of Morse code. It’s vital for us to stay in contact all the time. Life below ground is not without perils.” She pondered his reply for a moment. “Will you tell me more about the community you live with?” she asked at last. “And how you....” She paused and he could feel her sudden unease. “...came to be with them?” he offered. “I was an infant when I was found and brought to Father who raised me.” Vincent was surprised how easily words came to him. There was a little voice in the back of his head that warned him to be more careful, but he ignored it. In this case he had to follow his instinct, and deep in his heart he knew that the woman who sat before him, listening to him attentively, would not betray his world.. .or him. He had to make her see.. .and she would understand. *
“What are you going to do with me now?” Catherine asked, studying the man with the unusual face intently. She noticed that his features were very mobile and able to express a large range of emotion. His eyes clouded and he looked away. “I would like to guide you back to the home tunnels,” he replied carefully, “but if that is not what you want, we can stay here — apart from the community.” “Since when do you care what I want?” Catherine said defiantly. His gaze snapped back to hers as he replied in a low voice, “I do care.” Now it was her turn to avoid his eyes. He sounded so sincere and for a moment she felt strangely ashamed for testing him, provoking him. Quickly she shook off the thought, reminding herself that he was practically her captor. “Please understand,” he continued. “Our community is very vulnerable. We protect it through strict rules every member has to abide by at any cost.” “Then maybe it’s best you take me back,” she suggested softly. “There’s no point in wandering about underground if there is no way out for me anyway.” He gave her a slight nod and she could see his relief at her decision clearly displayed on his face. Thoughtfully Catherine studied his profile as he stared at the far off wall. This man was fascinating not because his feline features but because of his extraordinary honesty. His was the most expressive face she’d ever seen in a man. She knew he meant well and even though his actions clashed with what she wanted, she knew he only did what he felt he had to do. He was responsible to the people he lived with, and considering that she was an intruder who had disrupted his routine and his peace, he treated her really well. Yes, he did care, she was certain of that, although she didn’t understand why. *
Catherine fought to suppress the panic rising within her as she watched Vincent disappear from her sight. “Don’t be afraid,” he had told her, “I’ll be back shortly.” She silently cursed herself for being so obvious. She had tried hard to hide her feelings, not wanting him to know more about her than absolutely necessary. Still the prospect of facing the darkness alone, even if only for a short while, was unsettling. With a sigh she leaned back and closed her eyes. I should be glad he’s gone, she told herself, and yet she missed the quiet presence of him, even though he’d mainly sat there watching her, as if waiting for something she couldn’t grasp. Suddenly anger welled up in her. How dare he holding her captive down here in this darkness when she needed the light so badly. The urge to find a way to get away from this place, from him, grew overwhelming. Straightening with sudden resolve she reached for the lantern he had left with her. Carefully and as soundlessly as possible she made her way towards the mouth of the tunnel they had just come through. Its darkness terrified her but she knew she had to overcome her fear in order to get back to her own world of daylight. With one hand she felt her way along the rough walls of the corridor while she held up the lantern with the other. It wasn’t helping much, the darkness was too absolute. When she came to a turn, she put down the lantern and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. A headache was hovering around the edges of her mind and she closed her eyes for a minute, trying to relax. When she looked again, she detected a soft, misty light in the distance, as if just around the bend were an opening, connecting the underground world with the world above. Catherine picked up the lantern and walked on, concentrating on the ray of hope ahead of her. The light was becoming brighter, but the tunnel was suddenly at an end. A beam of light slanted in through an opening way overhead. Catherine felt her heartbeat accelerate as she assessed the wall before her for hand and footholds. Finally she started to climb, heedless of how brittle the rocks beneath her feet were. She slipped several times as stones crumbled under the soles of her sneakers, but she was so intent upon reaching the source of light, the opening she hoped would finally lead her to freedom, that she paid no attention to it. “Catherine,” Vincent’s voice was the last thing she heard before the ground beneath her feet gave way and darkness enveloped her mind. *
There was a hollow pain throbbing in his head as Vincent tried to sit up. Somebody had covered him with his cloak and supported his head with a garment. A jacket. Catherine’s jacket. He moaned helplessly as the events came back to him. He had just spotted her climbing up a path that no tunnel dweller in his right mind would have used, when the rocks began to crumble. He remembered rushing to her aid, but beyond that...there was nothing. No memory at all. Vincent strained to make out anything in the darkness, and when gradually his eyesight cleared, he realized that the entire corridor must have caved in and buried him alive. But where was Catherine? Obviously she was well, he thought as he felt for the soft fabric of her jacket. Who else could have put it under his head? The thought that she had taken care of him warmed him. But where was she? He straightened but a sharp pain in his side made him wince and shrink back to his initial position. Carefully his fingers probed along his ribcage. There was a warm stickiness that alarmed him. He could feel that his vest and sweater were torn, but before he could lift his hand to remove the cloak and take a look at his injury, he became aware of the changes the cave-in had created. Slowly he raised his head and stared at the slope of rubble and debris before him. One would only have to get up there and follow the light to reach the outer tunnels that would eventually lead above. Vincent’s heart constricted in his chest as it dawned on him that this was probably what Catherine had done. She had gotten rid of him at last. With a ragged sigh of resignation he tried to struggle to his feet. He had to reach the pipes and tap out a call for help. “Please don’t move.” The sudden sound of her voice all but paralyzed him. He must have gaped at her quite oddly because she smiled a lopsided smile as she knelt down at his side. “I tried to find some of those pipes of yours to bang for help, but I couldn’t find any,” she explained softly, taking his hand between her palms. “Does it hurt a lot?” He wasn’t sure if it was the concern in her voice or the fact that she had stayed or simply the beauty of her eyes as she looked at him with a worried frown, but suddenly his chest felt wide and he could breathe more easily for a moment. He shook his head. “It is bearable if I don’t move,” he replied hoarsely. “What can I do to get help?” she asked, her eyes wide and full of compassion. Slowly he extricated his hand from hers and started to tap softly against her knee. “Please try to memorize that,” he said, repeating the code. She copied it over and over again until she got it right. He felt almost proud of her as he nodded his approval. “Now tell me how far you’ve been earlier when you tried to find pipes.” He listened to her description and then began to give her directions, all the while wondering how he could possibly endanger her like that, but he knew he had no choice. He couldn’t walk. He could hardly breathe. He needed help. Quickly. Looking after her as she left him, he craned his head as far as he could without aggravating the pain too much. There was a feeling inside him that soothed him, a feeling besides gratitude and admiration, a feeling that didn’t come to him too easily. Trust. Closing his eyes, he thought of other times when people had held his life in their hands. Their faces blurred and blended into a single one — one he could have gazed at forever. |
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