Ship of Souls

then we found the second boulder, and the plaque on it opened like a door.”
    “A small door,” adds Keem.
    I almost laugh thinking of long, lean Keem trying to squeeze into an opening not much bigger than a sheet of paper. “So how did you fit through?”
    Nyla and Keem look at one another and shrug. “I felt like Alice in Wonderland!” Nyla exclaims. “As soon as I stuck my head in, I either started to shrink or the doorway started to expand.”
    “Either way, we both got in. It was pitch black in there, but Nyla was prepared.”
    “I’m no Boy Scout, but I am a military brat.” Nyla nods at the compact silver flashlight propped up before us. It’s attached to a bundle of keys along with some purple lanyard, a Swiss Army knife, and a small plastic alien that glows green in the dark.
    “We went down these stairs that seemed to last forever, and there were two tunnels. Keem thought he heard voices, so we took the tunnel on the left, and that led us straight to you.”
    Keem nudges me with his massive foot. “Good thing we showed up when we did.”
    I should say something about how relieved I was to see them, but pride pricks at my throat instead. “Actually, I was just about to break out of there when you guys showed up.”
    “Yeah, right,” scoffs Keem.
    “It’s true! One of the ghost soldiers helped me escape!”
    “Why would a nether being help you?” asks Nyla.
    “I don’t know—he wasn’t like the others. He was young, like us.”
    You must keep going, D.
    I get to my feet. “Come on—Nuru says we have to keep moving.”
    Nyla and Keem stand—or crouch—and we press forward in silence for a while.
    “Where are we going?” asks Nyla. She’s in the lead, holding the flashlight.
    “I don’t know,” I confess. “I’m waiting for Nuru to give me directions.”
    Keem groans. “Ask her if she can find us a bigger tunnel—I can’t walk like Quasimodo much longer.”
    A few moments later, Keem’s wish is granted: the small earthen tunnel ends, and we find ourselves in a large cement sewage tunnel. Nyla covers her nose with her hand as she splashes down into the shallow, slimy water. Keem sloshes past her and stretches his limbs. “Free at last!”
    “Free?” asks Nyla. “Do either of you know where we are?” She swings the small beam of light around the tunnel, but we barely get a glimpse of our new surroundings before the light flickers and fades. “Crap—the battery’s dead. What do we do now?”
    Hold out your hand , says Nuru. I do as I’m told and watch in amazement as the warm glow reappears around my heart. It moves up into my shoulder, travels down my arm, and settles in the palm of my hand. I push back against the darkness, and soon we can see clearly enough to move forward again.
    The dark, foul-smelling tunnel intersects with others, but we keep going straight ahead. I figure Nuru will let me know if we’re heading in the wrong direction. My feet are soaked, and it’s colder than when we were in the earthen tunnel under the park. At times we can hear the faint rumble of a nearby subway train, or the ground above will shake as a bus or truck rolls overhead. I don’t want to admit it, but I’m glad I’m not alone. The city’s alive above us, but no one in that world knows we’re down here. If anything happens—if anything else happens—we only have each other to rely on. Nuru’s inside of me, but she only pipes up when we prove we can’t handle the situation ourselves.
    Keem and Nyla pick up where they left off, their voices filling the dank, empty space around us.
    “Those dead guys sure looked pissed. Who—or what—are the Hessians they were whining about?” asks Keem.
    “ Hessen . They were German soldiers who fought for the British,” says Nyla. “Lots of people think they fought for money, but most of them had no choice—they were conscripted.”
    “Well, those walking corpses back there sure know how to hold a grudge,” says Keem.
    “It’s crazy but…I kind of feel sorry for them,” admits Nyla.
    “What? Why?” I ask.
    “I don’t know. It just seems…sad. I can’t imagine spending my afterlife being angry all the time.”
    “Hey—when your number’s up, it’s up,” says Keem. “No point walking the earth terrorizing the living. Save your sympathy for D—he’s the one they were trying to cut open!”
    “Nyla’s right, Keem. The ghost soldiers are bitter because they feel like they were abandoned—left to die while