Page 94 of Gatsby's Starlet
“Help me hold it,” I said finally, shifting my position, bracing one shoulder against the side of the opening while I got both hands under the edge. “We move it together, slow.”
Ruby hesitated for a second. Then she nodded and moved in, pressing her hands against the other side, her breath uneven as she got into position.
“On three,” I said again, my voice lower now, tighter. “And don’t let go.”
“One—two—three.”
We lifted.
The stone shifted up and out just enough to clear the opening, the weight of it dragging against our grip as dirt poured down around it, the ground beneath us shifting slightly as the pressure changed.
“Hold it,” I gritted out, my arms screaming now as I tried to keep it from slipping.
“I—I can’t—” Ruby’s voice broke, her hands shaking against the weight.
“You can,” I snapped, sharper now. “Just a second—”
The stone slipped. Not all the way. But enough. It dropped hard against the side of the opening, sending a cascade of dirt down into the gap and knocking my grip loose as the edge slammed into my forearm. Pain shot up my arm, sharp enough to make my vision blur for a second.
“Evie—” Ruby gasped.
“I’m fine,” I bit out, even though I wasn’t, even though my arm was already throbbing as I shoved it back into place and grabbed the edge again before the opening could close.
The gap was wider now.
I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to look past the pain, past the way the ground still felt like it might give under us, focusing on what mattered. “This is it,” I said, my voice quieter now, but steady. “This is our way out.”
Ruby stared at the opening, then back at me, her eyes wide, fear and hope crashing together so hard it almost looked like neither. “How far do you think it goes?” she asked.
I looked into the dark again. “Far enough,” I said.
Because it had to be. Because the alternative wasn’t an option anymore.
I shifted closer to the edge, testing the ground carefully, feeling where it held and where it didn’t, my pulse still hammering as I braced myself.
“Once we go,” I said, glancing back at her, “we don’t come back this way.”
Ruby swallowed hard. Then nodded. “Okay,” she whispered.
I turned back to the opening, drew in one slow breath, and started to climb through.
***
THE CLIMB FELTlonger than it should have, my arms shaking as I dragged myself up through the narrow opening, dirt crumbling under my fingers and falling back into the darkness below while Ruby pushed up behind me, both of us moving faster than we should have been able to after everything, driven by something that felt a lot like panic and a lot like hope tangled together.
Cold air hit my face first.
Real air.
Not damp, not stale.
Open.
For a second I just stayed there, half out of the ground, my chest pulling in breath after breath like I didn’t trust it to still be there if I stopped, like if I hesitated too long something would drag me right back down into that hole.
“Move,” Ruby whispered behind me, her voice tight, urgent, and that was enough to snap me out of it as I pulled the rest of the way out, rolling onto my side in the dirt before pushing up onto my hands and knees.
The woods stretched around us, dark and wide andtoo openafter everything we’d just come through, the quiet pressing instrange and wrong, broken only by something distant, shouting, maybe, or engines, something I couldn’t quite place but knew didn’t belong to safety.
