Virgil was having breathing trouble of his own. He was sideways to the entrance of the tunnel, legs braced against the far wall, but the rope was cutting into his stomach, even as he pulled against the weight at the end. It had suddenly doubled, cutting into his sore hands. He knew it was a good sign, because it meant that John was on the line, but he was afraid that he was going to dislocate his shoulders if they didn't get up here soon.
He could hear someone coming up the pipe. He took a painful breath. "Scott…is John okay?"
"John's fine," John said. He was coming out of the tunnel so fast he collided with Virgil and knocked him to one side. He didn't stop to apologize, just straddled him and began hauling on the rope.
"Where's Scott?" Virgil asked, dazed.
"Shut up and pull," John said. Virgil wriggled out from under his brother and reached out to pull. It was like dragging up an anchor, Virgil thought. Dead weight. The impact of that thought hit him and just as he was opening his mouth they heard Scott's voice call, "Stop!"
They stopped. They could feel him moving at the end of the rope, and then a pull as he started to climb up on his own.
"He turned around," John told Virgil, who just stared at the opening, waiting. In a few minutes they could feel their brother emerge from the tunnel.
John had already turned around and was scrambling for the entrance. Scott and Virgil followed, and the three boys clambered out into the field.
Scott shut his eyes against the sunlight. Everything looked overexposed and flat, two-dimensional. The heat of the day enveloped him like a pair of hands, but he was shivering slightly. He could still felt the echo of the cold in limbs. He slithered out of the tunnel and flipped over onto his back.
Virgil's face appeared over his, concern etched on his features. "You okay? Your lip is bleeding."
Scott licked his lips and tasted blood. He blinked at Virgil for a moment. "John stepped on me," he told him.
Virgil drew his eyebrows together, and raised his head to look up for a moment, then returned his gaze to Scott. "Maybe you should sit up?" he suggested, sounding unsure.
Scott sat up, pulling his knees up. He rested his forehead on his knees for a moment, hands gripping his hair. He almost felt like crying. Strange. He tried to remember the last time he cried. Not something he did often. Alan used to cry if you so much as looked at him cross-eyed. It was still pretty easy to make him. Gordon was more of a screamer than a cryer. Virgil wasn't. Scott couldn't remember if John was or not. He pulled his hands out of his hair, raised his head, and saw Virgil, palefaced, watching him. "Where's John?"
Virgil just pointed. Scott swiveled around. John was standing about fifteen feet away, staring across the field, hugging his arms.
"Is he okay?" Virgil asked.
Scott looked at Virgil, and then back down at his hand. There were long blond strands of hair twined around his fingers. That's right. John didn't cry; he laughed. Scott shuddered, and shook the hair off his hand violently.
Virgil decided he'd better see if John was all right, and walked over to him.
John didn't look at him as he approached. Virgil touched his arm lightly. "Hey. You okay?"
John shook his head, but didn't look at him. Virgil stood there uncertainly, not sure what to do.
"What time is it?" John asked after a minute.
Virgil looked at his watch. "Quarter to three."
John laughed a hard laugh at that. Virgil could see he was trembling slightly. He heard footsteps, and saw Scott walking towards them, looking more alert.
"Hey," he said. John turned to look at them both. His face was streaked with dust and his eyes were very wide and a little glassy. Scott put his hand on the back of his neck. "Come on. We should get home."
They started walking towards the access road. Virgil trailed a little ways behind them. He realized they had left Scott's knapsack inside the tunnel, but decided not to say anything.
This is exactly how people die, Virgil thought. Every movie or television show he had seen, plenty of deaths were undeserved, but none were unexpected. Usually there was music; if you were undeserving you got to say goodbye and a lot of people cried; if you were evil and wore enough leather you maybe got a one liner. But it wasn't how it would happen, he thought. It would be more like this: three kids go out to do something maybe sort of dumb, but not criminal. Three kids go out. Two come home. His grandmother had a funny little rant about the swarm of boys that invaded her house every summer; visitors were often surprised to find that there were so many of them. But there weren't so many that one could be lost without completely destroying the landscape of all of their lives. Part of how he saw himself was as a boy with four brothers. Here was the type of question that John liked to ask: if Virgil defined himself as a boy with four brothers, then if he became a boy with three brothers, would he still be Virgil?
All Virgil knew was, he wanted to kill both of his brothers for even making him think about this.
He was distracted by the sight of John breaking off and running full tilt into the field off the road. Scott stopped walking for a moment, and glanced back at Virgil, who trotted to catch up to him.
"Should we chase him?" Virgil said.
"I'm not sure," Scott said. He thought again of the closed, cold air of the tunnel and felt his back muscles tense. He kept picturing John sliding out of his grip and down into an unreachable blackness. "I think he just feels like running."
They watched him tearing across the field like a comet, until he suddenly dove to the ground. Scott took a deep breath and headed across the field to find him.
They found him on his back, staring at the sky. "Hey," he said.
"Hey," Scott said.
John sought Virgil's gaze. "You were right, you know."
Virgil looked away.
"You can blame me," Scott said. "It was my idea."
John squinted against the sun. "I don't want to blame anyone. If I should blame anyone, I should blame me."
"I sent you down the tunnel," Scott said. John sat up.
"You may have a hard time believing this, Scott, but it is possible to not do what you say. I know none of your friends at school have the ability, but a few of your family members do." He stood up. "Anyone want to sleep outside tonight?"
"Dad'll make us take Alan and Gordon," Scott said.
"Yeah, I know. That's all right. We can all stay out. It'll be fun."
Virgil stared at them. "That's it? Just…we go camping next? It'll be fun? Don't you…"
John turned and walked away, leaving Virgil somewhat taken aback. John didn't usually walk away from arguments. He looked at his oldest brother, who gave Virgil a thoughtful look, and then turned to follow John. Virgil stood there for a moment, deflated, and then followed his brothers home.
