Driving along a lonely stretch of highway, he'd stopped at an exit to get gas. James had been driving for a couple of hours, headed for a destination that was at least another hour from this little town. It had been a very nice afternoon until the drunken group of boys had reminded him how much he hated dealing with people. The rowdy bunch standing inside of the gas station was obviously too young to drink legally, but it didn't look like the sort of place where people cared. He'd deliberately walked around them to avoid confrontation. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked.
A beefy looking kid had made some sort of remark in his direction; something strange and random about winning the lottery. One of the others shushed his comrade. James hadn't responded, but had gone to get something to drink and pay for the gas. His hope was that they wouldn't bother him too much in the store, and that once they tired of the game, they would leave. It was with relief that he noticed them exiting the building as he paid the girl at the counter.
As he went back outside, one of them was gleefully smashing in his windshield with a shovel. The random violence confused him, and he quickly moved to go back in, assuming he would be safer inside. The cashier was locking the glass door with a guilty expression even as he turned around. He was stuck out there with them. Obviously, she'd known he was in for trouble. He hoped she at least had enough conscience to call for help. The boys turned to him, oddly synchronized, a barrier between him and the car. It was all very surreal, and it took James almost an entire minute to completely register that they were about to assault, if not kill, him. He glanced around, and could find nowhere to go, other than the woods off to the side. It was better than nothing, and he hoped they would be slow in their drunken state.
He fled the front of the gas station with them laughing and stumbling behind him. Their slurred shouts were unintelligible, but he didn't think it really mattered what was being said. They came crashing after him into the trees, though there was a great deal of tripping over plants and slipping in mud. It was a game to them, and the winner would be the one who reached him first. The prize would probably be first crack at beating him in the head with the shovel. James grimaced and subconsciously put a hand to his head, reassuring himself that it was still intact.
He went down a hill, jumped over a creek, and clambered up another hill. Finding a shadowed place, he sat to hide and catch his breath. Though they continued to look for him, they never came close. Trying to steady his breathing and listen for them, James closed his eyes, assuming he would hear if they came too close. A while after he couldn't hear them anymore, he opened his eyes, it was getting dark. He lifted up, still uncertain if this was a wise move. Damp bits of leaves and earth stuck to his skin. An insect scurried off of his hair. He adjusted his glasses and looked around. He felt for his cell phone, but it was nowhere to be found. The one time he'd bothered bringing it along, it wasn't there.
He wasn't sure which way would lead to the road, but began to walk in what he thought might be the correct direction. There were no paths in this area, only thick patches of ferns and fallen trees. He felt his ankle twist beneath him as he slipped into a hole. "Damn it!" The hole was wider and deeper than it appeared, and he found himself swallowed into the earth. He landed in a heap on the floor. The hole was incredibly large, and the ceiling was high. Weird. Most of the sunlight had melted into twilight, and the hole was dark. As he tried to feel out a way to escape, he realized there was a tunnel of some sort. It might lead to a way out, but an inner voice told him it would be a mistake to go that way. He rested on the ground, and dozed off somehow.
He woke again at some sound. The air carried the wet coolness of dew, and there were hints of shadow near the top of the odd cavernous hole. He'd been there all night, and the sun would soon be rising. He was worried about shouting for help. If those kids were still out there somewhere, they might be just as violent sober as they were intoxicated. If he didn't do something, he'd probably die in this wretched place. So, he shouted. He did this a few times, spacing the calls about five minutes apart. Suddenly, a head popped over the hole. Long black hair fell around the face of a woman who peered in at him. Wonderful! Somebody had come along and now he was going to be rescued.
"Who are you, Precious?" she asked.
"I fell in this hole, and I can't get out. Can you help me? Maybe you could call somebody?" The woman looked at him with an odd expression. He suddenly became very aware of how he must look. Disoriented, dirty, sweaty. He tried to smile pleasantly, hoping he didn't look creepy, as he was told he often did. He wondered if the smile made him look more like a creep.
The woman moved away, and he wasn't sure what she was doing. He hoped she was getting help. Then, the stranger leaped into the hole, landing gracefully beside him. She walked slowly around him, her eyes moving over his body critically. He stared back, trying to figure out what she was doing or thinking. Why wasn't she getting help? Was everybody in this place insane? He shivered slightly. It was suddenly very cold in this place. The woman tilted her head and gave him a sickly sweet smile. He was strangely reminded of a predatory animal.
He hoped she would speak again, and stop seeming so alien. Instead, she continued looking at him, as if measuring him somehow. He had the feeling he'd somehow proven to be lacking. He started talking to her, asking questions that went unanswered. He tried telling the woman his name, and explaining what had happened to lead him to this circumstance. She nodded at him, made little cooing noises as if she was listening, though he was sure she wasn't.
She traced his face lightly with her fingers, bringing her own face so close he could feel her breath on his skin. "Oh, Pookie, you must have been so frightened." Her words seemed soft, but her tone was icy, especially on the last word. It sounded a bit as though she relished the feel of it on her tongue. He shivered. He started to respond, still hoping she would help him get out of this hole and back on his way. Before he could say a word, she had put a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Shh..." She offered her hand to him, gesturing toward the tunnel, which was easier to see now. The sun was higher in the sky.