Amongst the Dead Read Free

plight. After what seemed an eternity, Riley’s foot connected with hard earth, and she was grateful for its presence. She hadn’t felt such a powerfully satisfying emotion since last hugging her father.  
    Far below the intruders, she would be out of harm's way. She couldn’t see in the gloom as the pit’s interior was windowless.  
    Arms out, gun strapped to her back, Riley walked forward looking for a place to sit. Her legs were shaky, but stable enough.  
    She reached a bench, and sat for what seemed like hours. The men kept chatting and laughing. Lost to her thoughts—the only things to see—the coldness of the room crept into her bones. The sweat that had lined her body was making her shiver. And she had to pee.  
    She removed the gun from her person, placing it on the bench, and slowly moved across the pit. She had decided to urinate as far from the bench as possible, not knowing how long it would be her resting area.  
    Halfway across the room, she stepped on a can of beans. It rolled out from under her as she lost her balance. Her ankle gave out, twisting awkwardly, causing her to stumble to the ground. A jolt of pain shot up her body, escaping her mouth.  
    She lay on the dank ground, her ankle throbbing, hoping the men hadn’t heard.  
    “What the hell was that?” one of them said, a chair scraping across the wooden floor.  
    “Sounded like a kid got hurt,” the other man said.  
    Riley lay on her side, holding her ankle. She heard the men scrambling about. She needed to get back to the bench, to the gun.  
    Standing wasn’t an option. She crawled, wincing with each lift of her right foot. Tears filled her eyes as she bit her lip, holding back the need to scream.  
    The men continued moving about, suddenly stopping. “Well, lookie here,” one of them said. They’d found the door, ripping it open. A beam of light pierced the darkness, illuminating the staircase. Riley crawled faster, adrenaline numbing the pain.  
    “Who’s down there?” a man yelled.  
    “We’ve got your gun,” the other said. “Come out or we’re coming in.”  
    Riley reached the bench, the beam of light making it easy to find her way. She grabbed the rifle, propped herself against the bench and readied her aim.  
    A man’s booted foot and grimy pant leg appeared on the first step. Then, one by one, he took the stairs slowly as if a bomb waited under each one. Upon reaching the lantern, he picked it up, igniting it. Riley saw the man carried no gun, indicating that the .38 waited with the man topside.
    Fully in view, she saw one of the men from earlier. He began scanning the far walls with a flashlight. He was even filthier than when she’d first seen him, his flannel full of multicolored stains.  
    She knew the men would find her and hoped both would come down so she could take them out together. Killing one would be easy, but she needed both. They’d have their way with her if given the chance, something her father had explained she needed to look out for.  
    She hid the rifle behind her outstretched leg and waited. The light hit her body, moving to her face. She had to shield her eyes.  
    “Well, hello there, little one,” the man said.  
    Riley said nothing. “Get down here, Bud.” The other man, a bulky, equally unkempt piece of trash, came trotting down the stairs.  
    “Shit,” the man called Bud said. “Any more of them?”  
    “Little girl,” the first man said. “Anyone else down here with you?”  
    The bright light was irritating. “No,” Riley answered.  
    Both men stood side by side. The one named Bud had the .38 in his hand. They were mean looking, like overgrown schoolyard bullies, and had a type of hunger in their eyes.  
    “Where’s your parents?” Bud asked.  
    “Dead,” she said, flatly.  
    “This is going to be easy,” the one without the gun said.  
    “I’m first,” Bud said. “Mmmm, fresh and tight.”  
    Riley swallowed. She had to be quick, no