I poke my head into the left-hand tunnel. There’s definitely some light coming from somewhere.
Then everything goes black. The torch must have died out. The darkness and feeling of being trapped are terrifying.
I make my decision. There’s no choice. Without light, I might not make it back through the tiny gap in the first tunnel. I don’t know if I have enough air to make it all the way through, but it’s my only hope.
I dive into the left-hand tunnel, using my hands to pull myself along. I ignore the burning sensation in my lungs. I can see a light. It seems impossible to reach. I can hardly bear another second of the pain in my chest. The light—it’s so close. I can’t give up now. I brace my legs against the walls of the tunnel, give a final push through the channel.
I emerge into the light. I’m opening my mouth to gulp in fresh air when I realize, to my horror, that what I assumed is air is actually another layer of water. On the verge of panicking, I float upward. I have the sensation of flying above the water.
Finally, my head breaks the surface.
I gasp deeply, sucking in chunks of air. I’m in an underground cenote, but no longer buried. Natural sunlight streams like gold dust from an entrance in the cavern. It falls into the water around me, which is a deep turquoise blue.
The feeling of relief is unbelievable. I’m on the verge of tears. I think of Albita on the other side, trapped in the dark, not knowing whether I’ve made it or not. More than anything I want to go back for her. But alone, in the dark, I wouldn’t stand a chance. I need to return with ropes and people to help me.
I drag myself out of the water, out of the cavern, and begin to run. I don’t know how far I am from home. Time may be short. I can’t afford to rest.
30
I wake with a jolt, rolling into the puddle. I jump to my feet, confused. Then I remember where I am. Ixchel lies opposite. She wakes too, startled by me.
I switch on the flashlight and check my watch. It feels as though I’ve slept for days, but it’s only been a couple of hours. My watch says it’s five in the afternoon. We’ve been in the Depths for almost seven hours. Ixchel’s right—there’s something very odd about the sounds down here. Surrounded by all this geology, we should only hear water dripping, the infinitesimal growth of ancient rock. But the air seems to carry the distant whispers of life.
“What a dream … ,” I say.
“Me too,” she says. “Horrible. A nightmare.”
“I dreamed I was swimming through an underground tunnel,” I tell Ixchel. “It was terrible. Thought I’d never get out of there. Thought I was going to drown.”
“Huh,” says Ixchel, only vaguely surprised. “I had the same dream.” She’s suddenly thoughtful. “In fact, I think I did drown.”
I stare at her. “You did?”
“Yes. Good thing you woke me up. They say that if you die in a dream, you die in real life.”
“You were really about to die?”
“Uh-huh. You can’t imagine how nasty it was. Stuck in that tunnel, desperate to breathe, unable to see anything.”
I’m confused. Ixchel had the same dream—but in her version she didn’t get out? “But you … you made it out?”
Ixchel shook her head. “I don’t think so. I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. And I was still stuck down there. Lost. Just horrible.”
I don’t understand why, but I’m almost overcome with grief. Ixchel looks shocked.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You look like you saw a ghost.”
It’s ridiculous, but I want to grab Ixchel and hold her close, just to check she’s still here.
But it’s not really Ixchel I want to hold. It’s Albita.
Ixchel muses, “You know, I think it was Chan and Albita.”
“In the dream … I was named Chan.”
“Lucky you! I was Albita. Not so fun, when you think about how she ended up.”
I’m shocked. “Chan and Albita were real?”
“They were part of the search party that went looking for this boy—a Bakab heir named Kan’ek—years ago.”
“I know the story,” I say. “It ends with them finding Kan’ek, and he smells of gardenias.”
“Well, that’s the nice side of the story. What’s not so nice is that Albita didn’t return. She must have given up waiting for Chan to come back and tried to swim for it by herself.”
“She drowned … ?”
Ixchel looks grim. “Pretty nasty, right? Poor Albita; her spirit must still be down here.”
I say nothing, staring into the water.
“Not the nicest experience to share with me; thanks, Albita,” says Ixchel to no one in particular. “You couldn’t have chosen something better?”