Screams broke through my consciousness. It was still dark. Amy. A wave of realization hit as I scrambled to crawl over to where she lay.
“Amy?” I whispered, my voice rough with sleep. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?”
She sniffled. “B-bad dream.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I paused, a little unsure of how to best to solve the situation. “Would a hug help?”
“Yes” Came the little reply. She buried her face in my shoulder, still sniffling. After a few moments, I loosened my hold on her, but her little hands still gripped my arms tightly. I held on a little tighter again, waiting until she was done needing a hug. When she finally leaned back, I asked if she wanted to talk about her nightmare. She shook her head violently, which I could see now that my eyes are adjusted to the darkness.
“Well, how about I sit with you until you fall asleep again, then?” Amy nodded, her wide eyes looking up trustfully, yet tentatively, at me. She lay back down and I smiled at her as she closed her eyes. I leaned my head one of my knees as I wrapped my arms around them.
After a little time had passed, I heard Amy’s breathing become more rhythmic, a dead give-away that she had fallen asleep again. For the first time in months, I thought of my mother. Not that she had never crossed my mind. She had. I simply mean that I have avoided dwelling on thoughts of my family since they died. Now, however, memories of my mother flooded my mind, unbidden, yet not unwelcome. She used to sit with me until I fell asleep when I was a little girl, just like Amy. I would have a nightmare, and she would always come, quietly and gently. I hoped I was emulating just a little of my mother to Amy now. I know that I had told you that I would not acquaint you with my family, but I hope that you will forgive this exception.
Carefully, I crawled back to my bed and slid back into my sleeping bag. I got what felt like two minutes of sleep before the next set of Amy’s screams woke me.
By morning, I felt almost more exhausted than when I had gone to bed. Amy’s screams had woken both Max and I multiple times. I rubbed my eyes, worry plaguing my brain. If this continued, how were any of us supposed to get any sleep?
Breakfast was somewhat sober. Moments of shared eye-contact between Max and I as we packed up our campsite, conveyed the significant worry that we both were feeling about Amy’s nightmares.
The mood persisted throughout the morning hike, which was silent with exhaustion. As we continued north, the only sounds that broke the silence were those of our own footsteps snapping branches or crushing grass and leaves, as well as the ever-increasing frequency of the roarings indicating yet another sink hole or landslide. Truly we had been quite fortunate not to have been caught up in one of them as of yet.
I longed to ask Max’s thoughts as to why it sounded like the sinkholes were becoming more frequent, but since Amy was so near I held my question back. No point in scaring her more than she was already scared.
After we had stopped for lunch and had hiked for another couple of hours, we began to hear a steady, roaring sound. Not like those we had been hearing, but that of powerful, rushing water. The sound began as a faint, almost static-like sound, but continued to get louder and louder until we could hardly hear ourselves think.
“Max!” I yelled. “I don’t think we should get any closer to whatever this is. It isn’t safe!”
Max turned to me, gripping Amy’s hand tightly, “We don’t have a choice! According to my map, if we start heading either east or west, we won’t make it to another town or city with food and supplies before ours runs out!”
I gave him a worried look. He took a step towards me, placing his free hand on my arm, “Don’t worry, we’ll move slow – careful. We’ll scope out the situation and figure out what to do from there.”
I responded with a half smile and looked at the ground.
“Hey” Max ducked his head to catch my attention, and our eyes locked. “I’m not going to let anything happened to you or Amy. You can count on me. I promise.”
His attentive, confident gaze and strong grip on my arm reassured me. “Okay. Let’s do this.” This time it was my turn to meet his eyes with a confident stare. He grinned and turned to lead us closer to the source of the roaring.
A few minutes later, when the roaring had become even louder – something I did not think was possible – we saw the cause of the sound. A huge ravine ran perpendicularly to our path, the edges of it abrupt and jagged, as if someone had grabbed a massive, serrated knife and had torn through a piece of fabric. Looking east, we saw an immense amount of muddy, brown water cascading through the wide gap in the earth, with chunks of the dirt walls dropping into the torrent here and there.
My heart raced and my head pounded as if in sync with the raging cascade of water. Any second, a sinkhole could open up and devour us. In fact, that was likely the cause of the increasing number of sinkholes we had been hearing all day. In terms of stable ground, we could not be in a worse place right now.
“According to the map” Max called, “There should be a bridge a little ways towards the east!” I followed as Max led the way towards the bridge. Slowing a moment, Max reached down to pick up Amy who was trying to cover her ears from the sound of the water.
He turned back as he walked slowly forward, “Careful how you walk. Test your footing before trusting the ground with your full weight.” I nodded, very aware of the chance we were taking by walking so close to the ravine.
Up ahead I could see a particularly muddy-looking section of ground. “Hey, go around – that way!” I pointed to the far side of the muddy patch, away from the ravine. Max carefully made a wide birth around the patch. Following in his footsteps, I put one foot in front of the other, trying to breath evenly. Suddenly, I felt the ground give slightly, my face tingled as panic rose in my chest. “Max!” The ground collapsed.