Chapter 3 - Cold, Wet, and Bleeding

Moments later, Mel was jolted awake by the icy water filling his lungs.

Instinct took over, and he kicked desperately, fighting his way to the surface.

Mel shoved his way through the water, struggling to orient his frail body towards what he hoped was up.

Thankfully it didn't take long for his head to breach the waterline.

Gasping for air, he inadvertently swallowed a mouthful of water, causing him to cough and retch as he fought to keep his head above the surface.

"Help!"

Mel heard the cry in the dark. It had to be the boy who fell in along with him.

'What was his name again?'

He listened and heard splashing sounds from in front of him. They were growing weaker.

Mel's thoughts raced as he struggled in the water.

'Should I help him?'

'He was a part in what got us into this mess.'

'But... he's just a kid like me.'

'I can't just leave him...'

'Can I?'

Fear and guilt battled in Mel's mind, but the urgency of the boy's cries cut through his hesitation.

'I have to; think of the scolding I would get if I told the priest and Leora I left him to drown.'

'But they wouldn't have to know...'

Shaking his head, resolve hardening his young features, he pushed forward, determined to save the boy, as well as himself.

"Hold on!" Mel shouted, his hoarse voice fighting to be heard above the sound splashing water.

He kicked harder, swimming slowly toward the crying boy.

The water numbed his limbs, making every stroke a battle, but he kept swimming.

'There!'

Grabbing hold of what he hoped was the boy's wrist he called out to him.

"I've got you!"

He pulled the struggling boy close, trying to keep them both above water.

As Mel pulled the boy in, he noticed it was getting harder to see in front of him.

'We're moving? We're in a river!?'

Mel had always imagined the bottom of the well to be like a pond or small lake. Now that he knew they were moving, things had gotten much more dangerous.

Mel did not want to be dragged under something, or be slammed into a rock, or be washed under in some turbulent rapid.

"We have to swim to shore!" Mel panted, kicking and fighting to drag the boy to the side of the water.

"I—I can't swim!" the boy cried, clinging desperately to Mel.

"It's fine, so just stop resisting!" Mel shouted; his voice strained.

He was having a hard enough time here; he didn't need this boy to drown him too.

The boy didn't seem to hear him, his arms desperately trying to wrap themselves around Mel's neck.

Fed up, Mel slammed his head into the boys face.

Stunned, the boy momentarily stopped moving.

"Anymore and I'll leave you to drown! Now, help me kick!"

Panic now behind him, the boy started kicking, trying to propel himself from the center of the river.

The boy was less helpful than Mel would have liked, but asking him to kick had distracted him from his fear of drowning.

'Useless' he thought to himself.

Soon, they felt slick rocks brushing beneath their feet.

"Almost there!" Mel called, putting his last reserves of energy into kicking.

Both boys dragged themselves onto solid ground, their drenched bodies trembling from the exertion.

Mel collapsed onto his back, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

The cold of the underground air seeped into his bones, making him shiver uncontrollably. Or maybe it was just the adrenaline running through him causing his body to shake like this.

The boy lay beside him, equally spent.

Their ragged breaths and the river the only sounds in the now oppressive darkness.

Minutes passed in silence, the weight of their ordeal beginning to press down on them.

Mel's mind spun with a mix of relief and lingering anxiety.

'We're safe, for now, but the darkness around us is a problem, and the cold could kill us if we don't dry off somehow.'

Slowly, Mel turned his head towards the sound of the breathing boy.

"You okay?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

A soft response came back, "Yeah... thanks to you."

His gratitude hung in the air between them, a fragile thread of connection despite their previous hostilities.

Mel nodded in acknowledgment, then blushed when he realized the other boy couldn't see him.

'I'm a moron' He thought, embarrassed for not noticing earlier. 

"No problem." He actually replied.

"I wasn't going to just let you die there. What's your name?"

"It's Keir. What's yours?"

"Mel" he responded, his voice softer now, tinged with relief and a hint of awkwardness.

Silence settled between them again.

Mel couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of unease eating away at him.

They were alive, but they were underground, far from any help.

'What do we do now?'

The well that had been a familiar landmark in their town had become a menacing trap, its depths now holding secrets and dangers they had never imagined.

As his breathing steadied and his heart rate dropped, Mel pushed himself into a sitting position, his senses strained in the darkness.

"We need to find a way out," he said, more to himself than to Keir.

"Should we go back the way we came?" Keir suggested, his teeth chattering.

"If possible. Let's see if we can find a wall and follow it back to the light." Mel replied.

The boys carefully stood up with their arms stretched out, trying to find the walls to the cave they were in.

A rather difficult task given the darkness enveloped them like a thick blanket.

After a few seconds of touching nothing but air, Mel's fingers finally brushed against rough, cold stone.

"Over here," he called, guiding Keir to where he was.

"Stay close and keep your hand on the wall at all times." 

They moved cautiously, the sound of their footsteps echoing around them.

They walked for a while, trying to forget the cold. 

"D-Do you think we're getting close?" Keir asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"Hard to say," Mel muttered, his eyes straining to see through the darkness.

'It's been too long' he actually thought, 'we should have been back to the well by now.'

Suddenly, Mel stumbled over a rocky protrusion on the ground, breaking his train of thought.

He caught himself against the wall, wincing as his knee scraped the stone.

"Wonderful" Mel muttered angrily, "now I'm cold, wet, and bleeding."

"B-Bleeding?" Keir stuttered, his teeth chattering, "are you okay?"

"I'll be fine, I just need to wrap my knee somehow. It doesn't feel like I cut it very deep"

Mel felt along the wall and found some moss.

It had shown up sporadically as they walked, thankfully it seemed to grow down here in abundance.

He pulled off a handful and pressed it against the scrape, using it as a makeshift bandage.

"There, that should do," he said, his voice steady.

After a moment of silence Mel spoke again.

"Hey, do you think the moss is poisonous?"

Mel couldn't see, but Keir gave him a funny look.

"M-most isn't…I think. At least, I've n-never heard of any poisonous moss before…" Keir replied.

'Well...too late now.' Mel thought, embarrassment taking hold again.

"Hey, shove some of this stuff in your clothes. It may help keep us warm as we walk."

Stripping more moss from the wall as they went, they continued.

Keir's shivering and teeth-chattering soon stopped, and they moved more comfortably through the darkness.

'I cant believe that actually worked' Mel observed in astonishment. 

The moss, while slightly damp, seemed to have provided a bit of insulation against the chill.

They continued walking in silence again for a few minutes.

After an hour or two of walking (who could tell), Mel stopped.

"I haven't forgiven you, just so you know. You shouldn't have been trying to hurt Leora."

Anger laced his words.

Keir sighed, his voice timid and quiet.

"We weren't trying to hurt her. Things…just got out of hand. Really out of hand."

"You expect me to believe that?" Mel replied coldly.

Keir looked down in the dark; frustration mixed with regret.

"I know it's hard to trust me right now, but I-I promise I never meant for it to happen like that."

Mel remained silent, the tension between them palpable.

They kept walking soon after, each step bringing them closer to what looked to be a faint blue light close ahead.