Last Wild Boy by Hugh MacDonald Page A

And the basement was no longer safe. There was nowhere left to go.
    As she sat in the pitch-dark hallway, listening to Adam’s raspy breathing and trying to figure out what to do, a cool breeze caressed her face. She remembered the breeze coming from the tunnel beyond the cave-in. The note in the skeleton’s pad had mentioned that he’d escaped from the outside through a tunnel on the other side of the cave-in.
    Nora had made it that far earlier, but could she do it with Adam? And would it matter? It was likely that both Minn and the skeleton man had tried getting over the pile of debris before, and neither of them had made it. But she didn’t have any other choice. She would have to try. But not until she could get back inside the room to get the lamp and some supplies.
    Nora sat there for a very long time, not knowing what time it was, wondering if the guards would come back. Sometime later she awoke in blind darkness. Adam was lying in a clump between her outstretched legs. It was so damp and cold. She wanted to look at him but couldn’t. Then she remembered the small, electric torch she had taken from the summer house and left on the table in the other room.
    â€œI wonder if it’s safe to go back inside,” she said to Adam, just to hear the sound of her voice. “I’m going to set you down and have a look. Wish me luck.” Adam gurgled.
    Nora walked to the end of the hallway and carefully removed the blanket. She waited a few more minutes, then by slow degrees she opened the door. The room seemed still and safe. She couldn’t smell anything, but she supposed the poison might not have a detectable odour. She stepped inside.
    The damp, stale air of the basement had got to her and now she was rasping and sniffing, much like Adam. She lit the lamp on the table and then brought a tube of nutrifier to Adam, who she carried back into the room. He drank about half the tube, but would have no more. Nora burped him, then set him on the cot while she changed his diaper.
    When she was done, she gathered a few essentials: some woollen blankets, the tubes of nutrifier for Adam, a few bottles of water, some canned food and an opener, a small pot, a container filled with kerosene, the box of wooden matches, the few items of clothing left there by Minn, and some squares of cloth for diapers. Nora put as much as she could into two canvas bags she found under the cot. She picked up the bags, slung them across her shoulders, and then placed Adam back in his basket.
    â€œWe’d better hurry up and get out of here,” she told him. “The guards could be back any minute.”
    Nora took a deep breath of the stagnant air and immediately succumbed to a fit of coughing. After her lungs settled down, she switched on the flashlight. She surveyed the long corridor, up past the rooms, and then turned it off. She didn’t want to use up the batteries when she knew she might need the light more later.
    She remembered there were three doors to her left before arriving at the end of this corridor. She shifted Adam’s basket to her right arm so her left was free to feel along the wall and count the doors as she came to them.
    The only sound in the cold, dark corridor was the distant, faint hum of moving air. Nora counted steps aloud as she walked, “one, two, three, four,” then the first door, “one.” Adam’s breathing was really loud and Nora could tell he needed his nose cleaned, but she couldn’t do it now. She had to keep going. She passed door two without counting. The concrete block walls were rough and the peeling paint and aging concrete felt abrasive and dry to her cold hands. “Three,” she said as she came to the last door.
    She groped around and found the end door, then carried Adam through, careful not to bump the basket against the jamb. Already the air was cooler and cleaner. When she was through she turned the flashlight back on. She didn’t