- Part 1 -


Arrhythmia


I can almost see the light,
Then it's gone.
-Tommee Profitt


There is an emptiness in the town that goes beyond just a lack of people. It's different than it had been when Aubrey had gone out jogging. Before, it had been clear that most people had just gone home for the season. Now, the air feels like something malicious happened here – is happening here. There are no birds, no crickets, no sounds or movements at all – aside from their quiet footsteps and occasional sniffles. The entire island feels forsaken in the most a sickening way – and the farther they walk, the worse it starts to smell. She wants to think that maybe it's just in her head - the metallic scent, like blood. But every time she inhales, the faint stench of death is there, and it's real.

Maybe it's stuck to her.

Maybe it seeped into her clothes in the dining room or when she was trying to save Cynthia-Rose.

She lifts the front of her sweatshirt up over her nose and breathes in. Even though she recently washed it, and, if anything other than laundry detergent, it should smell like whiskey and vomit or lake water, it smells like Chloe – sweet, fruity, kind of like vanilla. Nothing like death. It makes sense seeing as how often Chloe wears it that it would be hard to wash the smell of her out of it. She breathes in again, this time for comfort, before lowering the fabric back down. For the next few breaths, she's able to cling to something that doesn't turn her stomach.

"I smell it, too," Beca says.

"Smell what?" Chloe asks, still stuffed up from crying.

Aubrey glances at her.

"Bodies," Beca fills in.

Chloe looks down at her feet and falls back into silence.

"Maybe it's coming from the docks," Aubrey suggests. There is a light breeze. She doesn't smell smoke, but she also doesn't know enough about what burning bodies smell like to rule it out. They could be breathing in the smell of everybody who tried to escape on the boat. She double checks the safety on her gun then slides her arms around her midsection. Her stomach has never felt this consistently upset before – not from any anxiety, not any time she's been legitimately sick. Then again, she's never breathed in the stench of her dead friends before – not that she really knew any of the people on the docks well enough to consider them friends.

"Do we need to stop for a second, Aubrey?" Chloe asks, looking at her again.

Aubrey shakes her head. "I'm fine," she mouths the words. People who burn to death often pass out from shock and pain before the fire really starts to kill them. And it's usually the smoke inhalation that causes death. But sometimes, people burn – and they feel it. Chloe is still looking at her. She refuses to look back as she tucks her gun back into her pants then reaches for Chloe's hand. Chloe gives her fingers a squeeze before lacing them together and tugging Aubrey in closer, not taking her eyes off of her. Aubrey hopes they all got lucky and passed out within the first minute so they couldn't feel a thing.

"We should be coming up on First Street," Beca says, studying one of the maps Aubrey took from the inn, "You wanna swap guns?"

"No," Aubrey answers without missing a beat. Beca may be struggling with carrying the rifle while trying to read the maps, but Aubrey has a faster shot with the handgun. They pass a sign that says 1st Street, and she can see 2nd Street up ahead. Her heart pounds faster with each step. The urge to demand Chloe and Beca turn back and look for somewhere safe to wait is squashed by the realization that that could be the trap Beca is talking about – get Chloe away from Aubrey and then God knows what. But they've had Chloe away from Aubrey – while was off jogging, when she was with Sophia, the times she was with Beca. She wonders if either of them are really even safe with her after what happened to Cynthia-Rose. Aubrey had been right there. She could have saved her.

They walk past 2nd Street. Then 3rd. If this person was any good at consistency, or happened to be just one person, the moment they step onto 4th is when Aubrey could finally use her own personal background music. She can just imagine Old West Shoot Out music as she pulls her gun again and steps into the middle of the road – Chloe and Beca standing on either side of her. East 4th Street is as deserted as the rest of them – and with the music in her head, she half expects to see a tumbleweed blow across the road. Nothing moves. It's so quiet, she can hear the three of them breathing.

"Maybe we were wrong," Chloe says quietly.

"We can't be wrong, Chloe," Aubrey snaps, her tone not directed at her, rather at what it means if she's right. They're running out of time, both to get back to the inn and to get out of this place alive. They can't stand around deciphering cryptic notes – especially not when she's sure she understands what this person is saying.

"We just got here. Maybe we need to just look around," Beca suggests, "We don't even know what we're looking for."

"Give me the map," Aubrey says and takes the one they found in Mills' drawer out of her hands. It still doesn't make sense. "Why does Fourth Street line up, but the other streets don't? The lines can't be actual streets. They have to mean something else."

"What else would someone make a map of?" Beca asks, "It's not like this place has a subway."

Aubrey looks around.

Chloe reaches behind Aubrey and places her hand on Beca's arm as she stares at the ground for a few long seconds, her lips parted in intense thought. "It might not have a subway, but do you guys see what we're standing on?"

"Asphalt?" Beca guesses.

"And?" Chloe urges.

"Tar?"

"This isn't the time for guessing ga- " Aubrey looks down at the metal plate beneath their feet and cuts her own self short.

"I think we might have a map of the sewer," Chloe states, "That would make sense, right?"

The sewer. Subway systems and the sewer aren't the only underground passageways. Aubrey shakes her head as it clicks. It's not the sewer. "Remember the brochure?" she asks Chloe then directs the question to Beca as well, "The one you sent us in the mail?"

Beca gives her a forced, closed-lipped smile.

Of course Jesse sent out the brochures.

"Yeah," Chloe answers, "It was a brochure for the hotel."

"Do you remember what it said?" Aubrey asks.

"You were just about to establish the whole 'guessing game' thing with me," Chloe reminds her.

Touché. "The Candlewick was built during The Prohibition," Aubrey says, "So, the island was probably gaining popularity, and it would make sense seeing as this place doesn't exactly seem to be on the Seattle Police's radar. What if it's not a map of the sewer?"

Chloe nods her head, signaling they're on the same page. "What if it's Prohibition tunnels."

"Either way, Aubrey, if you think the three of us are going down there," Beca says, looking reluctantly at the ground, "Dibs on being Raphael."

"The painter?" Aubrey asks.

"Yes," Beca deadpans before exclaiming, "Dude, no, the fucking Ninja Turtle, Aubrey. What kind of hole did you grow up in, because it clearly wasn't the sewer."

Aubrey blinks. Not growing up in the sewer sounds like a compliment…?

"The cartoon turtles with the masks," Chloe whispers in her ear.

Oh. Right. Those. Aubrey is still confused about what that has to do with the present moment.

"We're still working on the whole cartoons thing," Chloe says to Beca and rubs her hand up and down Aubrey's back, unaffected as Aubrey swats her away.

Aubrey is a fully grown adult who could write an entire research paper on Raphael the painter, and they're acting like she's a complete moron, because she has limited knowledge about animated masked turtles that apparently spend their time in the sewer. They need to get a look underground. She squats down, places her gun on the ground beside her, and grabs the edge of the metal. "Can one of you children help me?" she asks, looking directly at Beca.

Beca drops everything on the ground beside her and grabs the opposite end of the plate.

They both attempt to lift it.

"Shit," Beca hisses, "Did Harry Potter have this much trouble getting into the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Stop making references," Aubrey snaps at her.

Chloe jumps in and lends a third set of hands, and between the three of them, they manage to drag it off the hole it covers.

"Tell me there's a flashlight in one of these bags," Beca says.

Aubrey stares downward into the darkness. If Beca's dad hadn't taken the one Nikki let her borrow…

"I have a keychain one," Chloe says and begins to dig through her bag.

"You guys should stay up here," Aubrey decides, "You can break into one of the houses then lock the door." It has to be safer than following her into a pitch black tunnel.

Beca grabs her arm to get her attention then gives her an incredulous look. "If you're about to walk into a trap," she says, "You need backup."

Chloe pulls out the flashlight. "I will not allow you to go down there alone, Aubrey," she says sternly, "If you think we need to go down there, we're all going."

Aubrey feels like she's going to throw up into the hole.

"Make a decision, Aubrey," Beca says, "Are we going? Because if it's up to me, I vote no."

The decision has already been made. Aubrey has to go down there. She nods.

"Okay," Beca says and starts to gather their things, "I don't agree that any of us should be lowering ourselves into the Black Hole of Death, but okay. Maybe we should leave our stuff here."

"Bring the gun," Aubrey says, ignoring her prior comment, "Hide the rest." She watches as Beca drags their things across the road and alongside one of the houses.

"Here," Chloe says and offers her the light.

Aubrey takes it and checks to make sure it works. It's brighter than she thought it would be, but not nearly as bright as they need it to be. She turns it off again to preserve the battery.

"Hey," Chloe whispers and places her hands on the side of Aubrey's face.

Aubrey looks up at her.

Chloe brushes Aubrey's hair out of her face then wipes the dried tears from her cheeks with the sides of her thumbs. Aubrey thinks she's going to say something, but, instead, she draws Aubrey into a tight hug, resting her chin on Aubrey's shoulder, and stands there in silence with her until Beca walks back.

"Who's ready to explore Narnia's Lesser Cousin?" Beca asks.

Aubrey really is going to punch her.

Chloe pulls back and grasps Aubrey's shoulders. "We're going to get out of here," she reassures her, "If this isn't our ticket, maybe we can hide. It won't take long for my mom to get worried she hasn't heard from me and call in the whole Coast Guard – and probably the Army, Navy, and Marines."

Aubrey nods. They just need to stay alive that long – and figure out how to lose the person trailing her, in case she's wrong about them wanting to help. Maybe they really would have a better chance without her.

Chloe doesn't say anything else. She just cups Aubrey's chin and gives it a little squeeze before turning her attention back to the tunnel.

Aubrey turns the light back on and points it down into the darkness. The bottom remains out of sight. "I'll take the lead," she says, trying to sound confident about it, "Chloe, stay in the middle, and, Beca, you hold up the rear."

"There's an insult in there somewhere," Beca whispers to herself.

"Yes, because you're an ass," Aubrey agrees.

"There it is."

If Aubrey thinks too hard about this, she knows it's going to be even harder to do it. She lowers herself to the road then onto the first rung of the ladder. "Be careful for the fingers of the person under you," she reminds them.

"Your fingers are very important to me," Chloe replies, "Some more than others."

"Well, I happen to like all of my fingers, Chloe," Aubrey informs her, ignoring the suggestive look Chloe gives, "So don't step on them."

Chloe nods her understanding.

Aubrey counts down from five in her head then begins to climb down the ladder, one rung at a time. The lower she goes, the worse the smell starts to hit her. She can practically taste it. Above her, Chloe starts to cautiously lower herself down, clinging tightly to the bars. Finally, Beca follows.

"How far down do you think it goes?" Chloe asks.

Aubrey tries to look down again. "I don't know," she answers truthfully, "I think it's just too dark to see the bottom." If the sun would come out from behind the clouds, they might have better luck. If she had to guess, she would estimate it to be only slightly deeper than a subway tunnel, but for all she knows, they could be lowering themselves down straight into the center of the earth, or, more likely, Hell. "You're doing great, Chloe."

"Wait, are you scared of heights?" Beca asks.

Chloe ignores the question to start whispering to herself that they're almost to the bottom. The metal bars shake along with her.

It doesn't take long for Aubrey's feet to hit the bottom, although that doesn't convince her that this isn't Hell. The stench hits her like a ton of bricks in the stomach, and she stumbles a few feet to the side, dry-heaving. She can hear Chloe start to gag as well, and she quickly points the light in her direction to help her. Chloe stands frozen at the bottom of the ladder and keeps her hand clamped tightly over her mouth and nose until she gets herself under control.

Beca begins to cough, but she seems to be handling it the best, managing to get her shirt up over her face before she can start heaving along with them.

Of course, Aubrey is the only one who actually throws up – even if it is just a small amount of bile. She turns away and spits before she lifts the front of Chloe's sweatshirt up over her face again. Even that doesn't do much.

"Guys, something happened down here," Beca says, "that I don't think we want to see."

Aubrey has no choice but to agree. The problem is, they're stuck on an island with someone who wants them to see it – whatever it is. What it isn't is a way off this island; that much is for sure already.