Grape Escape

16%. Pretty soon her phone would be giving her a low power warning. Usually when it got that low it went to 0% quite fast. Thirty minutes at best.

Anna drew a simple red oil stick ‘X’ with the stylus, marking their progress on the stone wall beside her. “I’m afraid that we’re almost out of light,” she said softly, doing her best to keep her voice from breaking.

Just behind her stood Clayton with the muscular man strung over his shoulders.

“It is fine Anna. You tried your best.”

A loud sigh permeated the tension. “Why haven’t you summoned a ghost light already?”

“I’m not going to use necromancy.”

“So you rather fumble around in the dark and die of dehydration than use death magic?”

“The stick has a point,” Clayton chimed in.

“Please don’t encourage it.”

“But I do not want to die here!” The young man was starting to freak out.

Anna studied his features carefully. “Just how old are you?” He fell silent. Too long for an honest answer. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I am sixteen harvests.”

“Grrrreat.” Anna rolled her eyes. This complicated things.

“Apprentice, think of the children!”

“I am not a child!” Clayton snapped back. He looked at Anna, whose youthful face didn’t seem much older than his own. “You are not that much older than me!”

Anna frowned. Age was a sore subject for her. Single. College debt. No degree. Café job. Far from a successful adult. “I’m fifty percent older than you.”

His eyes went wide. “You are fifty?!” Anna’s mouth opened to correct him but he immediately blurted out, “Wow! You look great!” She could feel her cheeks flush warm with embarrassment.

“The child can't do math.”

“I am not a child!”

“And I’m not a stick!”

Anna could feel her temper rising, heartbeat quickening. “Stop it!” Suddenly her nose felt warm and wet. “Ugh, not now.” Falling on her face earlier, the dust from the explosion, and now her blood pressure, the thin capillaries had reached her limit. Anna touched the end of her nose against the back of her index finger. It came back red. She could feel the flow rapidly increasing.

“Anna, you are bleeding.”

“Yes, I’m aware. It happens from time to time.” Anna ran her fingers over her upper lip to wipe the blood away before shining the light down, reaching into her apron pocket for some tissues she always kept there for times like this. However, rather than her bloody fingers finding a tissue, they instead brushed against the stylus.

“Are you bleeding on me?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes.”

The stylus instantly turned ice cold. Anna ripped her hand away, yanking it out of the joey pocket, finding that her fingers were entirely clean where they had touched the object. It had absorbed her blood?!

The answer was immediate. Suddenly her apron pocket began to glow from within.

“What is going on?!” Clayton exclaimed.

Multiple wisps of pale blue glowing letters began to rise from the pocket, like steam wafting up from an open pot beginning to boil. GATCGTTATCAACATG…. The letters slowly just kept flowing, only four though, seemingly at random, never broken by spacing or punctuation, a glowing illegible arcane language.

The letters continued to multiply, each independent chain progressively lengthening, until they became so elongated they could no longer defy gravity. Like a rolling stage fog, the chains spilled from the apron pocket, snaking out in front of Anna before pooling in a single combined coil on the floor several feet in front of her. As the chains continued to lengthen and coil, the pale blue light they emanated intensified, increasingly blinding Anna. She averted her eyes as the illumination spiked, revealing the entire catacomb passage.

The chains shattered. The periwinkle light dimmed dramatically but persisted.

Anna looked back.

The shape of herself stared back.

“Your soul!” Clayton gasped with horror.

“Hardly,” the glowing apparition replied flatly with scrunched eyebrows, casting a steady pale blue light. Crossing his arms under his chest, he floated just above the floor, mary janes tilted down as if standing on his tip toes. He appeared nearly a carbon copy of the genetic code he borrowed, other than dark purple irises replacing Anna’s own light blue.

“I don’t appreciate you stealing my shape.”

“I don’t appreciate it either,” he replied, making a flippant hand gesture at himself.

“HEY!”

“Why are you arguing with your own soul?”

“She’s not.”

“It’s the stylus.”

“Your blood created a physical anchor. So here I am. Satisfied?”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“Whatever. This takes an immense amount of concentration. Let’s get on with it and find a way out. … I’m going to have a pounding headache after this,” he grumbled.

With the soft, pastel illumination from the apparition, there wasn’t any need for the phone flashlight. Anna powered it down entirely, saving what little battery was left for the next dire emergency. The increased amount of light was appreciated. It made the catacombs seem a little less threatening and revealed far more than before. As Anna pressed a tissue to her nose, the four continued the search for another way out. While doing so they passed by countless names and ages of the deceased laid within each burial niche, the words carved into the stone lips, hand painted artwork over some of the plaster seals.

“Stylus,” Anna began, eyeing another carved name, “is there something else we can call you?” She did her best to keep her voice respectful, considering everything.

Olive branch extended.

The apparition paused, turning to study the artwork of one of the plaster seals. “Meh. Six out of ten.” He then continued on, seeming to ignore the question.

“Why haven’t we come across any more drainage channels?”

“Hard to say. Higher elevation in this part of the labyrinth? Rock fissures directing excess water away?”

“Hold up.” Anna paused in front of one of the seals. Whereas all the other plaster seals they were encountering were horizontal, this seal was vertical, like a giant portrait. It depicted a narrow valley between two opposing low mountain ridges, the valley floor abundant in verdant vineyards. “Why is this one from floor to ceiling?”

“Could just be one shared seal for an entire family. It’s as wide as the others.”

“But then why cover the stone lips with plaster and hide their names and ages?” Anna stepped closer, rolled her right hand into a fist and thumped on the art like it were a watermelon. “Sounds hollow?”

“There’s a void behind all the seals.”

“Humor me,” Anna replied tiredly.

The apparition shrugged. “Finally, a painting worth whining about?”

Anna stared back.

“I think she means, we should see what is underneath,” Clayton translated. He exhaled and slowly lowered the muscular commander to the floor before producing a short, dull looking boot knife. He extended it to her, handle first.

“Thank you for being helpful,” Anna said while giving the apparition a side look. Blade in hand she abruptly jammed it into the painting near the center. Paint and plaster fell away, leaving a small crater. She repeated the process, picking deeper into the seal each time.

“So you’ll desecrate lavish art, but not dry bones?”

“I’m not talking to you right now,” Anna grumbled.

On the fifth hit the dull blade punched through, sending an echoing sound into the deep void behind it. Air rushed through the hole, venting the difference in temperature. “I think we have a way out.”

“Talk about a grape escape.”

“Let me help.”

As Anna chipped with the knife in a fresh area, Clayton started kicking at the weakened section with his boot. Soon there was enough of a hole to bend and step through.

“All right, giggles. Scout ahead,” Anna directed.

The apparition made a sad mocking face before wordlessly passing through the seal.

He was gone for a while.

“Do you think he bolted?” Clayton asked.