Chihuahuan Centipede

Cade jolted out from bed, sweaty and delirious. His mind hadn’t processed him being awake yet. He’d had the dream again, the one that has plagued him since his accident in the year 2020. He was driving to the store with his son in the back-middle seat. He turned away from the road to look back at his son, who was giggling with his little rattle he loved to play with. When he turned back to the road, his car was heading right into the back of another car. His son’s car seat wasn’t strapped well enough, and it flew through the windshield. Cade’s face hit the steering wheel and he awakens. It’s a dream he is used to having. It’s the last memory he had of his son while he was alive.

Now it’s a reoccurring nightmare that plagues him nearly every day. The past wouldn’t let him forget, as if punishing him for making the mistake. He should’ve kept his eyes on the road. He would’ve seen the halted traffic ahead, and he would have been able to brake and stop the car before disaster could strike. But that was a useless thought now. He couldn’t go back into the past. He couldn’t change what he had done.

The digital clock on his nightstand read 5:24am, year 2028. “Shit!” Cade yelled as he leaped out of bed and knelt to grab his pants off the ground and hoist them to his waist. He threw on a gray shirt that read Wolfe’s Oil Drilling. He was late for work. It was a thirty-minute drive and he had to be out of the house by 5:30, so he had to hurry. He got ready for work. While applying deodorant, he debated whether to brush his teeth. After applying the deodorant, he decided he needed to brush his teeth, so he ran to the restroom and started brushing his teeth. He already had to skip the shower, but brushing his teeth was something he couldn’t do without.

His father had had horrible breath and teeth that would make anyone squirm in their skin. Cade really didn’t want this for himself. It would destroy his love life for sure—well, what was left of his love life. Other than occasionally picking up girls at the bar for a one-night stand, there wasn’t much love in his life. Ever since his divorce, he hadn’t really thought about having a relationship again.

He spat into the sink and wiped his mouth clean of any toothpaste that may have smeared around his mouth. He investigated the mirror and examined his features. His dirty blonde hair was a mess, but it didn’t matter. He’d throw on his work hat and it would be covered. His blue eyes shone bright, despite the dark bags underneath. He had a few scars that went across his face. He had a few above his right brow and a long scar that went through his forehead to his cheekbone. All the scars were from the car accident five years ago. It was a reminder of his mistake, as if he needed one. The nightmares would make sure he’d never rest easily.

It was now 5:32. He panicked, trying to find his car keys. A few minutes passed as he found them hiding in between the couch’s cushions. He turned the lock on the knob of his door and took one last look at his studio apartment. He shut the door and walked down the two sets of stairs and made it to his car. “Hey, andale, andale!” a Latino man shouted, his hands cupped around his lips.

“Sorry, Ricky, I had trouble locating my keys,” Cade said, rushing to the driver’s side door to unlock it so he could get him and his friend Ricardo to work.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Excuses, excuses,” Ricardo said.

They both lived at this apartment complex because it was the closest thing to the rig site. Ricardo didn’t have a car, but he didn’t need one. Cade had a car and he didn’t mind driving him to work. They were both going to the same place anyway. Their deal was set up like this; every two weeks Ricardo would pay for gas. Although this wasn’t really enforced, and the fact that it had been a month now since Ricardo had paid for gas, that was the deal.

Cade got into the driver’s seat and reached over to pull the lock upwards on the passenger side door. He pulled the door’s handle up and the door opened. He pushed it out, so it swung open and Ricardo finished opening it and jumped on in. Cade grabbed the hat that was sitting on the dashboard and placed it on his head.

“Eh, let’s get this bucket of bolts going!” Ricardo said, banging on the dashboard.

“Okay, but do you have my gas money?”

“Man, you know I ain’t got that shit!”

“Eh, it was worth a try.” They laughed as Cade flipped on his music, turned the AC on blast, went into reverse, and started driving out to work in the Chihuahuan Desert heat.

*

The summer in the Chihuahuan Desert was blistering. Sweat rolled from both Cade and Ricardo, staining their shirts with wet circles around their necks and armpits. They were arriving at the site now and Ricardo was just starting to spew one of the thousands of jokes he had researched online.

“So, get this,” Ricardo stated in the way he always did before telling a joke. “So, my boss yelled at me the other day. He says ‘You’ve got to be the worst train driver ever! How many trains have you derailed this month!?’ And I say, ‘Eh, can’t say for sure, it’s hard to keep track!’”

They both burst into laughter.

As the laughter died down, Cade looked over at Ricardo for a second then asked him a question. “Hey man, if you could go back in time, what would you do?”

Ricardo thought for a second. “I’d go back to that one restaurant, you know, Shawn’s Shack. That places burgers were so good! Too bad the got shut down. Who cares if there were a few roaches in the kitchen! The dude could cook!”

Cade laughed and focused back to the road in front of him.

“What about you, what would you do if you could go back in time.”

Cade frowned, looking down for a second to think, then put his attention back to the road.

“I’d go back and save my son.”

Things got awkward in the car as they sat in silence as they approached the oilrig’s yard.

Cade drove his car into an open spot and put his car into park.

“Well, boss, we’re finally here,” Cade said, taking in a deep breath in, then revealing a smile.

“Awe, Cade, don’t be such a pessimist!” Ricardo said while patting Cade’s shoulder. “The devil’s anus loves you too!”

The devil’s anus was Cade’s and Ricardo’s nickname for the rig site. They named it that because of the big hole in the desert rock. One day Ricardo made a joke about how it must be as hot as the devil’s asshole in there. So, the name stuck.

The drilling operation was simple to Cade. Drill a big hole into the ground, get the oil, then go back home. This was Cade’s line of work. He had worked for multiple drilling companies for the past ten years. He’d started working them when he was only twenty-two years old. He’d been with Wolfe’s Oil Drilling for a while now. Even though this is what he did for a living, he once had dreams of becoming an archeologist. But some things weren’t planned well and now he drilled for oil. It wasn’t a big deal to Cade, just a part of life. You gotta do what you gotta do to put food on the table.

However, this drill was different from all the others he had helped with before. It was much bigger and took longer to prepare. If it weren’t already for the unbearable heat, he would’ve sweated through his clothes just from his hard work. But the heat rose to where when he went home he’d be drenched from perspiration.

Sometimes, this would make Cade wonder why fracking was still a thing, but he knew the answer. Even though it was 2028, and electric cars were starting to be mass-produced around the world, people still owned gas engine vehicles. Sure, the oil business took a big hit, and sure gas prices weren’t helping either, but Cade still had a job, and that was a good thing. And with the invention of Wolfe’s new oil drill, they could finally get to the crude oil deep in the earth’s crust. That was one of the issues of the time. They were running low on oil reserves. And with electric cars finally being mass-produced, the oil business needed to get one leg up.

Wolfe’s Oil Drilling was one of the first to introduce their massive drill to the oil industry. Theirs was the best out there. It had been imitated, but never reproduced. The drill bits used for their drill were made from a special material, much stronger then the diamond drill bits used in days past. Ultimately, nothing could drill for oil like the new and upcoming Wolfe’s.

The Wolfes opened business in 2025, and after years of perfecting their new drill they created the finest drill in the world. It was a real David versus Goliath story, a small start-up company going up against the giants of its industry. But with their newly designed drill, anything was possible.

Cade and Ricardo came to their lockers. Cade put his wallet into it and placed his phone inside as well. The rules stated that no one was allowed to have their phone on them. He placed his wallet in the locker because once he had lost it, which made it very difficult to buy beer when he got back home.

“So, what did they say about your raise?” Ricardo said, breaking the temporary silence.

“Well, I asked for a promotion to technician. They said they’d think about it. For now, they gave me a twenty-five cent pay boost.”

Ricardo twirled his fingers in the whoop-de-doo motion.

Cade was a rig-hand. A rig-hand is part of a crew that is responsible for the maintenance and day-to-day operation of the drilling rig. It was a hard job, but ten years of doing it had gotten him used to it.

Usually it would take two to three weeks to set everything up, but their drill took a month and a half to get everything in place. Once drilling commenced, it would take approximately eight months to drill to the new depth they were trying to reach. They were into month seven now. They were drilling to new depths as they spoke. Cade and Ricardo exited the locker room and headed to the rig’s yard.

Cade stepped up into a booth where the technicians did their work. “Hey, what’s up, nerds!” he said, slapping one guy at the controls on the back.

“Oh, just another day in paradise,” the man said.

“One hell of a paradise you got, Orwell.”

Orwell was a heftier guy. He had brown curly hair, and there on his chest were what Cade presumed to be donut crumbs. Orwell lifted a box up to Cade and asked him if he wanted a bite. Cade kindly declined the offer and resumed chatting about the drill.

The giant drill was about four cars in length and width. Watching this behemoth drill into the ground was something to behold for Cade. He had a knack for digging. Going back as far as he could remember, Cade loved to dig, from his sandbox days to digging holes in the backyard for no good reason. That was one reason he’d wanted to become an archeologist.

Once, when he was about thirteen, he dug into the ground and found an animal skull. After doing some research, he learned that what he’d unearthed was a rabbit’s skull. Ever since then he knew what he wanted to be. But drilling was his life now. And for all he knew this may be the only thing he did for the rest of his life. That was an unnerving thought.

Suddenly, Orwell’s face turned sour.

“What is it, Oreo?” Ricardo said, now standing behind Cade.

“It’s-it’s the drill. I’m getting some weird, um, some weird readings.”

“Weird readings?” Cade repeated.

Then the earth shook a little as the humming from the drill turned into a massive screeching noise, like metal grinding on metal. Cade, Ricardo, and Orwell all covered their ears at the same time. The screeching went on for another five minutes before halting completely.

“Shit!” Orwell yelled, as his chubby fingers began to mash buttons on his console, doing a full analysis of the situation.

“Oh, no, no, no, no!” Orwell began to type faster. Then he slumped back into his seat.

“What-what is it?” Cade asked.

“The drill is toast!” Orwell said, banging his fist onto the console.

“Like burnt toast?” Ricardo said, more of a joke then a legitimate question.

“Yes, Ricardo, like burnt toast.” Orwell sank into his seat and sighed.

A man came rushing to the technician’s booth and Orwell sat straight up, donut crumbs falling off his chest and onto the ground. The man coming up to the booth’s door was the foreman, Mr. Porter.

“What in Sam Hill is going on!?” Mr. Porter asked in his not-so-indoor voice.

Mr. Porter was an old but fit man. He was like a drill sergeant, yelling at you to do your job and telling you to hustle as he yelled furiously at you. Veins would protrude out of his neck and arms and his face would turn red if you looked at him wrong.

“Something’s up with the drill,” Ricardo said, as Mr. Porter pushed him out of the way to get a better look at Orwell.

“Is this true, Orwell?”

Orwell rubbed his neck and looked at Mr. Porter, guilty like it was specifically his fault.

“Yes, something’s up with the drill. We lost all readings of the drill. The sensors either all broke simultaneously or the drill hit a hard surface and broke.”

“That’s impossible! This drill can drill through almost anything!”

“Well, obviously not through everything,” Cade said, entering the conversation.

Mr. Porter turned to face Cade, his face turning red and veins beginning to make their way to the surface of his skin.

“Are you patronizing me?!” Mr. Porter yelled, furious at him now.

Ricardo stepped into the booth and into the conversation.

“Eh, look, guys, fighting isn’t going to fix the drill. Let’s all put our dicks away and focus on what’s really important here.”

“You’re right, we-we’re going to have to hoist that thing up and see what the hell happened,” Orwell said shakily.

“Okay,” Mr. Porter said, taking a step down from the booth while staring down Cade. “Let’s figure out what the hell happened.”

*

They began hoisting the drill up with a set of cranes. It was a tall drill that collapsed into itself, but it was still massive even when collapsed. The cranes hoisted it into the air, and it was revealed what happened to the drill, but the one answer led to another question: what the hell happened to the drill?

The bottom part of the drill, where the expensive drill bit was, had been ripped from its place. They were all in shock. Of course, the common conception was that it struck something hard, causing it to break. But to hoist it up without the drill bit was unexpected. That part alone cost millions of dollars. Cade new what was next on the agenda.

Mr. Porter gathered everyone into a group and everyone circled the foreman.

“Listen up! Today something happened to the drill. We may have hit something strong enough to fuck up the drill. I just got word from upstairs that we must go down there and retrieve the lost drill bit. That thing costs a fortune, so we’re not in the situation to lose something like that. Now I need some volunteers for the journey down there. This will be the deepest excavation in the history of the world. It may be dangerous down there, so if you’re too chickenshit to go down there, don’t raise your hand.”

Cade’s eyes lit up and he raised his hand immediately.

“Bro, what are you doing?” Ricardo whispered roughly into Cade’s ear.

“Bro, this is something I’ve always wanted to be a part of. An excavation. We could be a part of history.”

“Yo, what do you mean ‘a part of history’?”

Cade looked around to see if there were any more volunteers. There were a few here and there. Cade turned back to Ricardo.

“Look, no one’s ever been this deep into the earth before. We’re already breaking records. But to discover something stronger than a drill that can cut through anything? That would be a find indeed.”

Ricardo looked down at the ground. Being a part of history didn’t matter to him. Cade would have to take another approach to get his friend involved.

“You know, whoever discovers the new type of rock that’s down there is bound to be a rich man.”

Ricardo’s face brightened. Cade smirked, as he knew he had his friend’s attention now.

“Rich, you say? Hmm, maybe I’ll join you in your quest, or whatever you wanna call it.” Ricardo smiled and put his hand on Cade’s shoulder. “Besides, I couldn’t leave my best amigo behind, now could I?” Ricardo raised his hand.

“Okay, listen up! You with your hands up come with me, the rest of you chickenshits are done for the day!” Mr. Porter exclaimed. The rest of the rig-hands left in disdain.

Nine people, including Cade and Ricardo, marched behind Mr. Porter to a large shipping container. He unlocked it and opened it up. Inside were suits, rebreathers, and devices that were slightly familiar to Cade. Cade may have seen them once or twice in Orwell’s possession. Orwell had been secretly teaching about this stuff so he himself could become a technician. So, he already had an idea of what this stuff was before Mr. Porter told the group about them.

“This is the stuff you’ll need to know before going down into the well,” Mr. Porter said, grabbing an air meter and showing it around to the rig-hands. Orwell entered the container and walked over next to Cade.

“Hey, Orwell, what’s up?” Cade asked. He noticed Orwell’s demeanor; his face began to look grim.

“Honestly, something has been bugging me ever since the drill, well, you know,” Orwell looked around the room and bent closer to Cade’s ear, and his voice fell to a whisper. “The drill wasn’t drilling into anything when it broke apart. It’s like it hit an empty pocket. It’s hard to explain, but the readings I was getting were unnatural. I don’t know if going down there is a good idea. I’m getting a bad feeling about all of this.” Orwell scratched his face nervously.

“Look, man, everything is going to be all right. All we’re doing is going down there, fetching the drill bit, then coming back up to the surface. Easy peasy!” Cade smiled, but Orwell didn’t look reassured. Cade’s smile faded as Orwell looked down to the ground. Cade turned toward Mr. Porter as the foreman explained the suits that they’d be wearing to battle the heat that they would endure. The attire looked like a dark blue jumpsuit, the only differences being that it had a light on the right shoulder and on the back was a cylindrical steel device. Mr. Porter turned the suit around, showing an oxygen tank on its back.

“This will connect to your breathing apparatus that you will wear if your air meters register bad. You simply strap on the tubes like so.” He lifted his hand over one shoulder and the tube fit neatly into the oxygen tank. “And that’s all there is to it!”

Mr. Porter went over some more technical stuff and then finished by telling everyone to suit up and, once dressed, to meet him by the hole. He and Orwell stepped out of the container together. Cade assumed Orwell was going to tell him what he had told him, but he didn’t see Mr. Porter changing his mind.

As Cade slipped into his suit, Ricardo began to snicker.

“Hey, asshole, what’s so funny?” Cade asked in a joking manner.

“We’re about to dive into the devil’s rectum,” Ricardo said, then bursting into laughter. At first Cade held his ground, not allowing himself to smirk, but then gave in and laughed with his longtime friend.

*

Everyone came out in their newly adapted suits. Some people came out with their rebreathers on. Mr. Porter looked at these people and shook his head. They got the idea and took their masks off. It wasn’t necessary to be wearing them now. They should have known that. Ricardo kept his on, however.

“Hey, Retardo, you don’t need to be wearing that shit right now!” Mr. Porter said. Some people laughed at this.

“Sorry, sir, I’m just ready to jump into the devil’s asshole, sir!”

More people laughed at this, which made the foreman mad. Cade smiled, then covered it up with his right hand.

“Oh, goodie! It looks like we have a comedian in our mix!” Mr. Porter yelled out towards the bunch of rig-hands laughing. Their laughing halted when he gave everyone a stern look. “I’ll have to keep a close eye on you.”

Ricardo clicked his heels together and saluted.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

Sometimes having a friend like Ricardo was difficult, and it was situations like this that made it so.

“Me, Ricardo, Katy and the new kid will be Group A. The rest of you are with Steve in Group B,” Mr. Porter announced. Steve shook his head and turned to face the crowd of rig-hands.

“Wait, am I Katy?” Cade asked Ricardo. Ricardo looked at him and laughed.

“Well, it sure beats being Retardo now, doesn’t it!”

Ricardo was silent for a moment, and then they both burst into laughter.

The shark tank-like cage was attached to an enormous crane. Mr. Porter looked at the group of rig-hands and told them to go on in. Everyone marched into the cage. Those who could clutch the side of the cage did, as it lifted upwards and began to make its descent into the well.

*

Cade was in the car again. He knew he was. He was once again in the dream. His hands were on the wheel, and he was focusing hard on the road. He didn’t want to turn his head to look at his son. That’s how he’s died in every dream he’s had. His son said something in the backseat, and he began to turn his head, but stopped.

“Daddy, look at what I can do,” the boy said from the backseat, his voice so sweet and innocent.

He didn’t dare turn around. Then he heard it again.

“Daddy, look what I can do.”

He shook his head no and began to tear up.

“Daddy,” the boy said.

“I can’t, look, I’m sorry. Daddy’s gotta pay attention to the road okay bu-”

“I SAID, LOOK AT ME, DADDY!” The boys voice turned into a loud, deep growl.

“I can’t.” Tears began to fill Cade’s eyes.

“I SAID, LOOK AT WHAT I CAN DO, DADDY!”

Cade looked into the backseat in the rearview mirror. What he saw shook him to his core. His son sat in the backseat, covered in blood, holding his teddy bear. His eyes were pitch black and black ooze was dripping from his eyes to his cheekbones. Cade remembered the aftermath of the accident. His son was torn from the vehicle, something happened during the accident, decapitating his son. They found his body, still clutching the teddy bear he was holding before he was ejected. His head was found several feet away from the body.

“LOOK AT WHAT I CAN DO, DADDY!” the thing growled out. Cade continued to look in the rearview mirror. His son grabbed at his own head and began to tear it back and forth till the sounds of cracks were not only heard, but were visible too. He pulled his head upwards and his head began to tear away from his neck. Then, with a gushy snap, it was removed. Cade’s eyes flashed forward and a car suddenly was in view. He had no time to stop. He rammed it. His face went flying into the stirring wheel. Then he woke up.

Cade jolted upright but didn’t yell or anything like this morning. He just took in deep breaths.

“Aye, amigo, you’re going to be all right. It was just a bad dream.”

Cade new what it was, but he knew it was more than just a bad dream.

It was quiet among the rig-hands. Not many spoke, and those who did whispered. Nerves were fraying as the top of the well became a smaller and smaller white dot.

“So, hey, Cade. Or should I now call you Katy?” Ricardo looked over at Cade, who was still a little rattled from the dream, but not too rattled to flip him the bird.

“Okay, okay, Cade it is,” Ricardo said, gesturing in a non-defensive manner. “So, you wanna hear a joke?”

“Not now, man, I’m not in the mood for another one of your bad puns,” Cade said, turning to look at the rock wall they were slowly passing by.

“Aw, man, you’re surely missing out, my dude.”

Cade turned to him with a serious face, and then broke. “Fine. Lemme have it.”

“Okay, awesome, so the past, present and future walk into a-”

“Everyone put on your masks!” Mr. Porter yelled, cutting into everyone’s conversation. The group quickly put on their breathing apparatuses on as the descent started to reach its end.

It took two hours to get all the way to the bottom. The cage clanged against the ground and Mr. Porter opened the cage. All the rig-hands stumbled out and circled around the cage’s mouth, where the foreman stood alone.

“Wow!” Cade shouted, echoing throughout the cavern.

“Is that what I think it is?” Ricardo said, pointing down the mouth of a cave.

“Uh-huh, it’s a tunnel,” Cade said.

“But… how?” Ricardo said, stammering a little.

The tunnel wasn’t that big, considering what they had just traveled down. If you stood you standard sedan up on its hind wheels, that’s how tall the cave’s mouth was. It was also the same length as width.

Mr. Porter pulled out two walkie-talkies and handed one to Steve. Steve rounded up his group and the searched one side of the well. Mr. Porter marched towards Cade and Ricardo. As he approached them, he instantly saw what they were looking at.

“What the-”

“I can’t believe it either! I thought my eyes were deceiving me,” Cade said, cutting the foreman off. “We have to investigate!”

“No way, Jose!” Ricardo said, backing away from the tunnel’s opening.

“Ricky, think about what we could find down there! Discovering these tunnels, hell, we’ll be famous! You’ll be able to get all the babes you want!”

“Hmm, that does sound nice, but I’m going to have to politely decline your offer, good sir.”

“I guess I’m going in alone,” Cade said, taking a few steps towards the mouth of the tunnel.

“Wait!” Ricardo yelled after Cade. He finally sighed, “I’m coming.”

“Now hold up, you two!” Mr. Porter said in a booming voice.

Both Cade and Ricardo turned back to Mr. Porter following behind.

“Anything you find is property of the Wolfes, you got that!?”

Cade nodded, then Mr. Porter tossed Cade a walkie-talkie.

“I carried an extra one, just in case. You two be careful now. And don’t be long, ya hear!” That last question was more of a statement then a question.

They agreed and started their descent into the tunnel.

*

Cade was moving his shoulders left and right, shining his light on the tunnel walls, taking it all in as they walked further.

“I can’t believe a tunnel system exists this far underground!” Cade said.

“Eh, don’t you think it’s a little strange they had all this equipment at the ready?”

Cade thought for a moment. It was a little odd that it was all there, almost like they were expecting to find an underground tunnel system underneath the earth’s soil.

“Now that you mention it, it is a little odd. This here is some high-tech equipment that I believe is used for mining. Why have this stuff sitting around if you’re just going to drill a hole into the ground? It doesn’t make much sense.”

“Maybe they knew,” Ricardo said.

Suddenly the walkie-talkie crackled.

“Come in, come in, Mr. Porter.” Orwell was speaking in a semi-panicked voice. Cade raised the walkie-talkie up to his face and pressed down the button on the side.

“I hear ya, Orwell. This is Cade. You won’t believe what we found down here!”

“I’m guessing you found a tunnel system.”

“How’d you know about that?”

“Listen, I’ll tell you all about my job in a little bit, but right now you all need to get out of there! There’s a lot of movement going on down there and I’m reading that there’s a possibility of a collapse! You need to leave ASAP!”

“Roger that!” Cade said. Both Cade and Ricardo turned around and began running back to the cage. They’d walked a half-mile into the tunnel, so it would take some time to get back.

As their running commenced, they heard something coming over from the mouth of the tunnel. Yells of agony echoed off the tunnel’s walls. Were we too late? Was there already a collapse? Cade thought. Then, two figures became visible running towards them. It was Mr. Porter and Steve.

They came up to Cade and Ricardo and stopped, putting their hands on their knees and gasping for breath. Steve tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come out.

“They’re-they’re all,” Mr. Porter tried to say.

“Eh, spit it out!” Ricardo said, looking down the tunnel to see if he could see what they might have been running from.

“They’re DEAD! They’re all DEAD!” Mr. Porter said, in a panicked tone.

“What do you mean, they’re all dead? Was there a cave-in?”

“No-no, it was…was…” Steve stammered.

“It was what!?” Cade said, losing his patience.

“We don’t know what it was,” Mr. Porter said, finally catching his breath.

“What do you mean, you don’t know what it was?” Ricardo snapped.

“It’s what I said it was!” Mr. Porter snapped back.

“You didn’t say what it was!” Cade’s words rushed out of his mouth.

“You’d have to see it to believe it,” Mr. Porter said.

“Well, humor me! If it wasn’t a cave-in, then what was it?”

Steve dropped to his knees and began to sob as he shook his head side to side. Mr. Porter, who finally caught his breath, stood up a little straighter that before. Cade noticed for the first time that Mr. Porter didn’t have his rebreather on. Maybe throughout all the commotion he didn’t think to ask. He went to his suit pocket and took out his air meter. The air was now breathable. He took his respirator off and let it hang around his neck. Ricardo followed suit.

“I don’t know-”

Cade cut the foreman off, grabbing his collar and pressing him against the tunnel wall.

“If it wasn’t a cave-in, then what was it?”

It was calmly said, but the aggression was palpable between the two. Mr. Porter looked down and sniffed.

“Fine, we’ll go and find out ourselves!” Cade started to march to the mouth of the tunnel when he realized Ricardo wasn’t right behind him. “Hey, are you coming, man?”

“I don’t know, man, you see these two? Something freaked them out.”

Cade rolled his eyes then stormed back to the three men.

“So, breathe and tell me what happened,” Cade said, eyeing Mr. Porter.

Mr. Porter shuffled a bit then took a deep breath. Steve was still in shock.

“We couldn’t find the drill bit. We concluded that something had torn it from the drill. We were waiting for further instructions as to whether to investigate the mines or not when, well, when IT happened.” Mr. Porter rubbed his eyes.

“We were waiting around the cage when the side of the tunnel erupted! Rocks sprayed every which way! The rocks squashed some of the workers. They were either dead or unconscious, I don’t know for sure. Then, this-this thing emerged.” Mr. Porter’s hands began to shake. Cade could now see the red that soaked them, and when he stopped rubbing his eye, his face was half-smeared with the red stuff. Blood.

“This… this thing came towards the new kid and-and…” the words weren’t coming. He looked down at the blood on his hands and his eyes grew noticeably wetter.

“It swallowed the new kid whole. I could hear his screams as he went down the thing’s body. Blood covered the floor beneath it. Its insides were covered in blades and saws and…” He began to shake again.

“I heard his screams! He sounded as if he fell into a giant blender!”

Cade’s jaw hung open. Ricardo stepped forward as if about to say something, but then decided not to at the last second.

“It was like a mechanical centipede,” Steve said. Everyone turned to Steve, who was slowly standing up from his kneeling position. Cade didn’t want to believe what the two were suggesting, but the blood and the fact that they were the only people to come down this tunnel suggested their story may have been true.

“So, everyone’s dead but you two?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Mr. Porter spat out.

“Ricky, what do you think we should do?”

Ricardo looked back and forth between the two of them, then to Steve.

“I don’t know, man. This is some deep shit we’re in.” Ricardo shifted. “If that thing is still back there, shouldn’t we be running?”

Then a mechanical screech echoed throughout the tunnels. It was like a cybernetic banshee was calling to them, its cries screaming to them as if to say YOU’RE NEXT!

In unison, without saying a word to one another, they all began to run hard in the opposite direction toward the mouth of the tunnel. Mr. Porter and Steve followed behind Cade and Ricardo closely, but eventually fell behind. Cade looked back and saw what shook Mr. Porter and Steve. A mechanical worm-like creature, with bending rods for legs and its pincers made of some sort of metal. It matched the sides of the tunnels, suggesting it may have been the original thing to create them. Steve fell back from Mr. Porter, out of breath due to his asthma. The thing’s pincers pierced Steve’s sides and retracted quickly, causing Steve to fall to the ground. The pincers grabbed him and forced him deep into its mouth. Steve screamed, but just like Mr. Porter said before, a blender-like noise came from the beast, and Steve’s screams became garbled and stopped soon after that. Cade cursed and focused in front of him. He no longer wanted to look at the scene taking place just behind him. The screech occurred again, followed by a shake in the tunnels as what sounded like a blast came behind them. Cade looked back and realized that the thing was gone.

“Cade, we gotta keep moving!” Ricardo yelled. Cade didn’t realize that he’d stopped moving. He was concentrating on the huge hole in the ground just behind them. The thing dug downwards, but why?

Cade bent down to feel the dirt rumbling underneath him. Suddenly he realized what was happening.

“RICKY!”

Ricardo stopped and looked back. Then just behind him, the thing lunged from out of the ground. Ricardo turned back around and stumbled backwards. He began to shuffle backwards, but it was too late. The thing’s pincers pierced his calf and shinbone, causing Ricardo to scream out in pain. The pincers dragged him closer to its mouth, retracted its pincers, and pierced Ricardo once again, this time him through both sides of his ribcage. Lifting his body over its mouth, its humming became louder than before, as if the blender were roaring into action. Ricardo gurgled out blood and extended a hand to Cade.

“Help me, buddy,” were Ricardo’s last words, as the pincers retracted and he fell into the thing’s mouth. Ricardo screamed, but his scream quickly became muffled and then fell silent.

Mr. Porter already started running the opposite way. Cade fell to his knees, looking out into nothingness as he took in what had become of his best friend. He had lost another person close to him. This feeling of pain came back to him, one he was all too familiar with.

Mr. Porter got to the hole where the thing had dug into the ground before. He took a few steps back to prepare his running start, then he ran and jumped. He was just short and began sliding down the hole in the ground. The thing drilled down and disappeared from Cade’s view.

Cade snapped out of his lost state and ran back to try to save Mr. Porter, but stopped as his cries and screams echoed off the tunnel walls. It was too late for the foreman. Cade turned and ran. He came to the second hole the thing made and jumped. He reached out and caught the edge with his arms. He hoisted himself up and made his way out of the hole. He got up and ran as fast as he could, till he saw another mouth of the tunnel. He reached it and peered in.

Cade couldn’t believe what he was seeing. If he wasn’t being chased by a mechanical man-eating centipede, he would take the time to marvel at the find before him. It was a saucer like ship! It looked like one from those old sci-fi films of alien crafts; UFOs were what they were called. He stepped closer to the ship and looked it over and over, taking it all in. How it had gotten down here was his biggest question.

Rock didn’t touch the ship. It was as if it had some sort of field around it that prevented the rock from enveloping it. At the right side of the ship was a ramp that extended from the ship to the ground. The cybernetic banshee screech echoed off the walls, and Cade knew he had to hide inside the ship, or else he’d end up like his good friend Ricardo. I miss you, man. You didn’t deserve to go out like that.

He ran up the ramp and into the ship. As he entered through the hangar door and into the spacecraft, the ramp withdrew into the ship and the door slid down, closing it off from the tunnels.

He was surprised to find that, in a white room with control stations with white seats, a giant box-like monitor hung in the middle of the ship with English writing on it. It had a time on the screen and realized what he was in at that very moment. This was no space ship! This was a time machine!

The date was for a period so far back that the numbers he read made no sense to him. They must have gone so far into the past. Cade’s mind went wild over the find he’d uncovered. He pressed a button that said “Fuel” the screen displaying how much fuel the ship had. Next to it was another button that read “F&SM”. He clicked it and an image of the mechanical centipede came onto the screen. The full name of the thing appeared on the screen as well: it was a Fuel & Security Machine. Cade began putting all the pieces together.

There was another button that read “Ask”, and right beside it was a microphone. Cade approached the mic and hovered his hand over the button. He bent forward and pressed it.

“TC-216, what is your question?” An angelic female voice came from the monitors above.

Cade gulped. “Uhm, my question is, what happened to the crew of this ship?”

“Question cannot be verified. All crew members are deceased.”

Deceased? But how? Cade pressed the button again and cleared his throat.

“TC-216, what is your question?”

“What is the ship’s condition?”

“Ship is Functional. Fuel is at 13%. Critical damage to the F. and S.M.”

Cade pressed the button again.

“TC-216, what is your question?”

“What’s wrong with the F. and S.M.?”

“F and S.M. model 119 is malfunctioning.”

Cade thought for a second. The puzzle was almost complete. He hit the button once more.

“TC-216, what is your question?”

“Did the F. and S.M. model 119 kill the crew members?”

The ship registered, then finally clicked and loaded up an answer.

“Confirmed.”

Cade ran his hand through his blonde hair. Everything makes sense now. The time travelers went back in time, their fuel and security system went haywire, and they were killed by the very thing that was supposed to protect them. That thing has been stuck down here protecting the ship. Maybe it remained dormant, just staying down here for eternity, corroding slowly, but then we came down and reactivated its protection protocol. It’s just protecting the ship. It’s just doing its job. Just like how we were just doing our job. Like how Ricky was just doing his. Poor Ricky…

Cade sat down in one of the seats and began to think hard. He remembered the last thing his friend said to him. Arm stretched out, calling out to him. “Help me, buddy.” He closed his eyes tight, remembering the scene vividly. “Help me, buddy.” Blood flooded from his mouth. “HELP ME, BUDDY!” He yelled in a demonic voice.

Cade put his hands to his head and yelled. He tried to think about something else, but that same scene replayed in his mind repeatedly, the “Help me, buddy” becoming deeper and deeper every time it was said. Then it stopped, and a new scene played in his head.

“Daddy, look at what I can do.”

He was back in the car with his son.

“Daddy! Look at what I can do, daddy!” His son was bouncing in the back in his little car seat. He was holding a teddy tightly to his chest with his right arm.

“Buddy, I can’t look right now. I’m driving.”

“Daddy, look!” his son demanded, stretching out the last word, which was shaky due to all his bouncing.

Cade looked at his son in the rearview mirror. His son was wiggling one of his front teeth. It was loose and soon ready to come out. He smiled. I’ll have to sneak a dollar underneath his pillow in no time. Then he looked back to the road. A car was too close for him to react. He rammed the back of the car. The car seat wasn’t properly in place and his son soared through the windshield. Cade’s face slammed into the steering wheel, and that’s when he snapped back to the present.

Cade began to cry but straightened up and hit the button.

“TC-216, what is your question?”

“How much fuel do I need in order to make a trip to the past?”

“Time must be evaluated. What is your intended time?”

“The year May third, year 2020.” May third was a few days before his accident occurred, killing his son.

“Calculating. Calculating. You need ten percent fuel to go back to the May third, year 2020.”

Cade sniffed and hit the button again.

“TC-216, what is your question?”

“How much fuel do I need to go back thirty minutes ago?”

“Calculating. Calculating. You need 5 percent fuel to go back thirty minutes.”

Cade frowned. I can save both of them. But whom do I choose? Maybe I could go back, save my son, then when the time comes I can go back to the site and save Ricky! He hit the button once more.

“TC-216, what is your question?”

“Can you send me back in time?”

“Calculating. Calculating. This can be done. When would you like to arrive?”

Cade thought for a moment. What time should I do first? He was terrified yet excited at the same time. He couldn’t wait to see his son once more.

“Computer, send me back to May third, year 2020!”

“Calculating. Calculating. Time is set. Destination is set. Arrival in thirty seconds.”

Cade smiled gleefully, shaking his fists in the air, but then it slowly faded as a realization set in. Wait a minute. I didn’t set a destination.

Everything flashed to black, then he saw red, like the color you see when you put your finger over a flashlight. An explosion was heard, and he was blasted out of the top window of the time machine and thrown into the air. He made a hard impact on the ground and turned to the ship.

One time machine sat normally. The one he came through was smashed diagonally into the other one. Fire engulfed the ship and the ground began to shake. Cade looked at his leg. His ankle was broken, and he probably had a few sprains all over his once capable body. Next to him were scattered bits of the walkie-talkie he had attached to his side. He cursed, got up, turned to the tunnel’s mouth, and slowly began to walk.

Cade’s thoughts were all over the place. He didn’t know what time he had traveled to, if he had traveled anywhere to begin with. He decided that he’d find the elevator shaft and travel back to the surface. It had been a long day, and his bed was calling him.

He walked about a mile, leaning against the wall to ease the pressure on his broken ankle. Then he froze as he stared at a rocky, dirt wall that blocked his path. I felt the wall. It was solid. He must’ve reached the end of the tunnel

Fear shot through him like a bullet. He felt himself, searching for something, then pulled out his walky-talky.

“Orwell, can you read me!”

Nothing but static went through the receiver.

“Orwell, are you there!”

Again, nothing but static.

He fell to his knees in shock. The reason why he hadn’t reached the cage, and instead was met with a dirt wall, was simple. The hole hadn’t been drilled yet and wouldn’t be drilled for another 8 years. He slowly pulled out his air meter from his pocket. The air was becoming less breathable by the minute. The field the ship created was fading. He would die from a lack of oxygen.

He fell to the ground and tears rolled down his pale face. He banged his fists in the dirt.

“It’s not fair!” he yelled, tears flowing down his reddened cheeks. “It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair!”

Then the familiar, gut-wrenching, banshee metallic screech again echoed off the tunnel’s walls.