text: I readied the rucksack on my back, and took the first few steps on my journey across the library. We walked down the aisle of empty shelves until we reached a large pile of collapsed roof. We clambered up the boulders of broken concrete and twisted metal bars sticking between the rocks. At the top, we could see the thin gap between destroyed masonry and exposed rock. I crouched down and crawled into the hole. Beneath me, loose rubble shifted with each step. Above me, unforgiving rock loomed; a whole island capable of ending me in an instant. I continued along the shaft for a hundred metres or so until the tunnel narrowed, becoming only around half a metre wide. I stared at the space, rocking side-to-side, trying to work out the best way through. Eventually, I decided to try a sort of sideways shuffle. I rotated my hips and slid into the thin space. As I squeezed through, I could feel my back scratch against the mass of debris and exposed metal. The further I travelled, the thicker and dryer the air got and with each panting breath, dust scratched the back of my throat. Every inch of my body was being scraped, itched, and probed by the crevice. I continued like this, my spine aching from the strange contorted angle for several metres, until the space widened out again, and I could stretch my back to a more comfortable position. We continued, passing through a couple more tight turns, until we emerged from the channel, finding ourselves on top of one of the large bookshelves. I held out my lantern, casting light into the uncharted space. I could only see so far, but every shelf in range was filled with books. Not a single one was missing. Wherever we were, we were the first. Kit reached down and grabbed a book from the shelf, checking its cover. “Eurgh, poetry.” She flung the book down onto the floor below. “We’re still in fiction?” “I did say this place was big.” “I guess I thought we’d at least be in another section by now.” “Look on the bright side. It’s a different subsection,” Kit shrugged, as she climbed down the shelves. I followed her down. We began walking along the aisles past the ancient books. Some looked damaged, ruined by moisture in the air, or eaten by dust, while others looked almost new as if placed there yesterday, and the Archipelago had never existed. We began scoping out the room for our next route forward. We followed the perimeter, looking for a path over the debris, but to no avail. Instead we would have to head through and under. I found a small crevice heading west. The remains of the library had poured down either side of the aisle, but it left a small space just wide enough to shimmy through. I walked down it some ten or so metres until the space became too thin to go any further. “I could try and peel some of this stuff off the wall, create a wider space?” I called back to Kit. She grimaced, staring at the loose stones around us. “If you do that, good chance you’re going to bury us down here.” She turned around. “We’ll find another way.” “And if not?” I replied. “Then we head back to where we started and try from there.” I bit my tongue, but I was determined not to have to retreat. I was certain there must be a way out of this room. I walked out ahead of Kit, tracing the southern wall. The lantern waved back and forth in my hand, glancing against the wreckage to my right, until suddenly it caught a hint of shadow at the bottom of the ruins. I crouched to get a closer look. Even kneeling, the gap only came to my shoulders. I got down further, lying prone on the floor, the lantern stretched out in front of me. The space continued to shrink, slowly lowering until the clearance was perhaps no more than forty centimeters. However, a small slit continued well beyond the lantern’s reach. “Are you really that desperate?” I looked up to see Kit standing beside me, hands on her hips. “It goes on for a long way. Maybe it comes out in another room.” “That’s a big maybe.” “Got to be worth a shot.” I sat up quickly so I could remove my rucksack. There was no possibility of it and me making it through the gap together. Kit lied down on the floor next to me, squinting at the route. “Fine,” Kit sighed. She sat up and took some rope off her back, tying one end of it around my ankle. I looked at her with a scrunched face. “If you reach a deadend in there you won’t be able to backtrack,” she said, fastening the knot. “If you get stuck, call, and I can try and pull you back.” “Okay,” I nodded. I felt a hint of renewed confidence, Kit’s small act feeling like a blessing. I pulled the rope to make sure it was tight, gave a final confirmatory nod, and began the crawl. The first twenty or so metres passed without difficulty, but soon the ceiling forced me down to my stomach. I inched forward; snaking myself along the floor. I rotated from hip-to-hip, pushing myself off with sprawled knees, as my sweaty palms clasped for purchase on the floor. With each wriggle I could feel my shoulder blades brush the mass above me. My pace was a fraction of even a crawl, but I was making progress. With each outstretch of an arm, with each push-off of my toes, I made another few centimetres. I began panting with exertion; the hot air of my breath bouncing back off the floor. I strained my eyes upwards. Ahead, slowly approaching, I could see a point where the ceiling widened out. I continued on with renewed determination. However, the last few inches were the tightest. I placed the lantern on its side to push it through. With the space so tight, I was unable to free my shoulders, and I had to rely on only my legs to wriggle forwards. Slowly but surely, I slithered through to the other side until my arms and head breached through the gap. With my hands now free, I reached out to the sides and used the leverage of the walls to haul my body through. I caught my breath before rolling over and inspecting my surroundings. I was in luck. The ceiling had fallen, but only as far as the top shelf. Two wedges of concrete slid from either side, but were held up by the other’s weight, leaving the aisle free. I was locked between the two racks, but I could stand, and the route looked clear. “Kit, we’ve got a way forward.” “What’s it like?” the echo shouted back. “Trapped in an aisle. But looks like a clear route west.” “Good work. The bags are too thick for the space. We’re going to have to empty them and do half a bag at a time, that sound good?” “Got it.” Kit set about getting the gear small enough to fit through the space. Once done, she tied the rope to one end of the bags, before securing a second rope to the other, so she could pull them back through to be refilled. I pulled on the rope, listening to the fabric slide along the floor, until they reappeared through the small crack on the ground. I sent the bags back and we repeated the process with the second half of the contents. Once more, I listened to the slow shuffle of the bags grinding their way along the tunnel. The sound drew closer, but then, the rope went taught. I tugged hard, as my greasy hands slid across the fibres. The bags were stuck. I pulled again. Still nothing. I pulled a third time, this time leaning back and using my full body weight. I felt it twitch forwards. One more pull and there was a crack, the sound of stone falling to the floor. The bags were free and I hastily reeled them in. “What the heck was that?” Kit called out. “The bag was stuck.” “And...” “I had to pull it free. Think it got caught on something.” “Yeah, the ceiling. The ceiling that you just ripped a piece out of..” The panic hit me. I immediately fell to the floor, staring back down the tunnel, trying to see if there was still a way through or if the collapse had separated us permanently. My eyes followed the rope as it trailed off into the darkness. My chest tightened, and I felt nausea seeping up from my stomach. I was uncertain if the blackness was a cave in or merely as far as the lantern’s illumination could reach. My breath grew shorter and sharper, as I pleaded for the gloom to relent. Then, I saw a small flicker of light, and straining my eyes, I could see Kit lying down on the other side. My head collapsed to the floor in relief. “Looks like there’s still a way through,” she said. “Thankfully,” I replied, trying to inspect the crawlspace. Somewhere, it had been disturbed. But beyond that brief sound of the stone cracking against the floor, we had no idea what damage had been done. “Pull me through,” Kit cried out, readying the rope in her hand. “What?” “Be quicker than crawling. More fun too.” I raised my eyebrows but complied. I stood back up and began pulling on the rope, dragging Kit towards me. My energy was weakening, and I groaned with each pull on the rope. I stared to the ceiling as I pulled; looking at the debris that was patiently waiting till one day gravity would take over, and the sky could collapse upon us. I listened closely, trying to decipher if each rustle was merely Kit sliding along the floor or rubble shifting, preparing to collapse. I could hear a rock roll gently, and small pebbles scurry. I pulled harder, desperate to end the unease. Slowly, more and more of the rope appeared, until eventually two hands emerged from the small hole. “That was much easier than crawling,” Kit smirked. I reached out a hand and pulled her to her feet. She looked down the aisle ahead of us. “Guess we see where that goes.” “Yes... but maybe a break first.” I wiped away the sweat from my forehead. “Yeah. Good idea.” Kit pulled up one of the half empty bags and laid down, using it as a pillow. “Take a nap,” she said, pointing to the other one. “What time is it?” “I don’t see the sun, do you? Ain’t no star to tell you when to sleep down here.” I chuckled and lied down beside her. We turned out the lanterns, and with the library reduced to complete black I fell asleep quickly. \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* We had no idea how long we’d slept. When we woke, the island above us could have been a bustling market, or in the dead of night. For a brief moment, time ceased to be a real thing. As Kit and I set off again, we were in our own world. Weather, the turning of the Earth, the coming-and-goings of others, all were irrelevant to us. The next leg of our journey was much smoother. We were confined to our one aisle, but it seemed to continue without interruption. We met a few obstacles. On occasion a large beam had fallen through and we had to either clamber over, or crawl under to get through. However, compared to the previous attrition, things were becoming easier. Over the course of what I estimate were several hours we marched West, and then, when we found a break between two aisles, headed south. We left behind the humanities of literature and religion, and entered into the natural sciences. Eventually we reached another section of open library where the structure was perfectly intact. I climbed up a couple of shelves and looked out over the top; neat metal rows - filled to the brim - stretching off into the darkness. I hurried back down and lifted up one of the books. *Our Changing Earth.* “Do you know where we are?” I asked Kit. She leant down and read a series of numbers on one of the shelves. “Fifty-five,” she thought for a second. “Earth Sciences.” I raised my hands to the air. “Well, this is it then, right? There’s got to be something here.” Kit tilted her head with a half smile. “With a bit of luck.” She looked over my shoulder. “Also means we should be near fifty-seven and fifty-eight too.” I raised an eyebrow. “Biology and botany. Useless to you, but if you want Haddee to not drown you when you get back...” “Okay. So let’s set up here for a bit then? Stay however long we need.” “Sounds good,” Kit said. It’s hard to say how long we remained in that section of the library. Our work was intermittent. We would work a few hours, sleep briefly when tired, and then return. For much of the time I wouldn’t see Kit. She was in different sections, painstakingly choosing the best possible collection of books for Haddee, and cataloguing items to hit on future visits. But every few hours we would return to share anything interesting we’d found, or maybe talk about our lives outside of the library. The rest of the time was spent reading. Given that we are in an archipelago, I initially started with books about the sea, hoping there may be some clues. Momentarily I thought I found the solution. A book described the concern of rising sea levels caused by ice melting. However, my optimism quickly turned to disappointed frustration. The seas would’ve risen slowly, over decades. Given the turmoil we know happened when the Archipelago formed, its formation must have been a matter of weeks or months instead. Furthermore, a map of an “iceless globe” showed the sea levels wouldn’t rise high enough. It would be enough to reduce the continents, but not swallow them. After scouring countless books, I found no other possible clue of what could’ve caused the Archipelago. I had poured over every relevant title I could find, and yet had nothing to show for it. Despite all my hope, geography and geology held no answers. I shuffled back to our meeting spot and found Kit trying to ram an additional couple of books into her bag. “Here, eat this,” she said. Before I could even react, an apple landed against my chest. “Thanks.” “I’ve got a couple of pastries for you to eat afterwards too.” I looked at a number of provisions laid out beside her bag, as she desperately crammed in another thick, plastic-coated book. “What if I’m not hungry?” “You’re bigger than me, you need the energy.” I laughed and sat down next to her. I took a long sigh and lent my head on the shelf behind me. “No luck?” she asked. I shook my head. “Not convinced I’m going to get any answers here.” “Well, maybe it’s time to move on. The yearly periodicals were always the end goal right?” “Definitely.” “Then we head there.” “We won’t make it there if you keep ditching provisions for books.” I nodded to the pile on the floor. “We’ll have enough.” Kit rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I think I spotted a good route through botany.” “Yeah?” “Yep. Let’s eat, pack up, and I’ll show you the way.” After I had eaten the snacks forced upon me, and Kit had successfully managed to squeeze another three books into her bag, we decided to venture on further into the library. I followed Kit through the aisles until we reached a mound of scree sloping upwards. At the top, I could see a large, flat sheet of metal disappearing over the summit. “Those metal sheets run all over the place, suspended across the ceiling.” Kit pointed to one behind us. The silver grill stretched south across the room, hung on thick cables. “Looks like they used to run wires or something.” “You reckon it’ll go the whole way?” “Worth a shot. Besides, we got way more to carry this time.” Kit looked down at the box full of books by her feet. We couldn’t be certain we’d return the same route. The books were too precious to leave to chance. “Could do with an easier route.” We climbed up the slope of dirt and brash until we reached the thin metal gangway. It was no wider than I was, and the roof was low enough that it would be a slow crawl forwards. But the route seemed unencumbered. We developed a train. I pushed the box of books in front of us. My rucksack was tied to my legs and was dragged behind me. Behind that, Kit dragged her own. Between our crawl and the cargo, our pace was slow. But we made smooth steady gains. The metal pathway hovered above the library. Caveins, that from the floor would be impenetrable blockages, seemed to effortlessly part for the corridor. Every so often a collapse would cover our path. But at this height, the rubble was never thick or firm, and we were able to push aside any impediments, sending the concrete to the library floor below. When we weren’t plowing through blockages, we flew like birds, high above the floor below. Through the grills in the metal, I could see down to the untouched books. We passed over zoology, into psychology, then ethics, and then philosophy. In the space of a few hours we had managed to travel more of the library than we had in the entire time before. We passed over a section of collapsed roof and into another portion of open library. “I reckon we might be reaching the end of philosophy,” I called back to Kit. “Yeah, can’t imagine there’s much more.” I continued on eagerly, watching the books pass beneath me. As we passed the halfway point of the room, I pushed on harder, kicking forward with my toes on each crawl instead of dragging on my knees. The extra force was absorbed into the gangway, and the suspended bridge began to sway gently with each passing push, the cables creaking and tensing with our weight. The sound was a gentle rocking that reminded me of a ship at sea. Ahead, there was a tunnel where the gangway crept over the cave-ins. I kept my eyes focussed on that spot in front of me, watching it draw closer-and-closer. I took a last look down. We were hung four or five metres over one of the aisles. On either side, I could see the tall racks of books that had been left for centuries, and would be for probably many more. Then, with another pace, the drop below disappeared and was replaced by dark concrete that sat just beneath the metal grid. The gangway creaked once more. But this time the sound was different, louder, less like a lullaby and more like a scream. I froze on the spot, refusing to move. Another screech as the whole library groaned. Silence fell, before being broken by a brief popping noise. Kit mumbled, “Shit.” There was a snap. Metal bending and breaking, followed by a loud clattering that reverberated off the walls. My bag pulled back sharply. The rope around my leg slid down my calf, gripping onto my ankle. My leg shot back with the force, before the knot slipped over the end of my foot. A second later, I heard the dull thud of the bag. “Kit!”, I cried out. I tried turning around but the gap was too small. I strained my neck left-and-right, trying to get some kind of visual. “KIT!” No response again. I started edging backwards a few centimetres at a time. With each movement I called out to Kit. Each time, nothing. One more step and my foot landed on air. I hovered it for a moment in the empty space, reaching out for some kind of purchase. I moved back further till both my knees were on the edge of the platform. I reached out a leg: back, side-to-side, down, trying to find something solid. There was nothing. I positioned my hands on the edge of the metal plate, and gently pushed my body off. Tensing my arms, I slowly lowered, until I was dangling from my fingers. I looked down to check my landing, and let go. I dropped a good two metres before my feet landed on the ground and I tumbled backward, landing hard against my coccyx. I ignored the pain and shot back up to my feet. Kit was lying on her back, eyes shut, her head lying on its side, arms outstretched beside her. I called her name and ran towards her immobile frame. I reached her side and leant down, inspecting for signs of life. “Kit, Can you hear me?” My voice was broken, tears threatening at the corner of my eyes. She twitched; a momentary flicker of the eyes. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m here.” I grabbed her hand and held it close to my chest. Her face scrunched, and her eyes slowly opened. She let out a soft groan. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?” Her face grimaced with every heartbeat as she slowly pushed herself off the floor. “Yeah. One second.” I placed a hand on her back, helping her up to a sitting position. “What hurts?” “My head.” She held out her arms and examined her legs. “But I don’t think anything’s broken. Just... ow.” “Good.” “Yeah.” She looked to the ground in front of her. “I’m gonna need to rest a while if that’s okay. Sorry.” “As long as you’re okay. That’s all that matters.” I headed to my bag, took out one of the water canisters and passed it to her. She took a sip. “That was... not fun.” “What do you remember?” “Too much”. The browns of her eyes were thin, swallowed by wide, glassy pupils. “I... I thought I was dead.” I sat down beside her and reached out an arm to comfort her. “Like, I’ve done some stupid stuff in my time. But I never thought, never truly felt, I was dead before.” “It’s okay...” “I was scared, Ferdinand,” she interrupted. “I’m still scared. I just feel panic. Here...” She grabbed my arm and held it to her chest. I could feel her heart punching hard against her ribcage. “That.” “I know,” I said. “I was so worried. I was terrified about what had happened to you. I’m frightened too.” She leant forward and pulled me in tight, stretching her forearms across my back. I held her close, feeling her warmth against me, as I let out a long breath. She was safe. Kit needed to rest, so we decided to stay put untill she felt better. I climbed up the collapsed rubble just high enough to pull down the box of books still left on the metal shelf. After, we spoke for a little while longer before deciding to sleep. Neither of us could rest easy. The adrenalin and fright clung to our veins, refusing to relent. I could feel Kit moving restlessly. I was facing away, but sensed her slowly shift closer. She placed an arm on my waist, and leaning in closer, rested her head against my back. I rolled over, and placed my arm under her head, her face resting on my shoulder. I could feel the damp from wet cheeks through my shirt. She stared vacantly at the shelves next to us. I petted her back, unable to conjure any words. She didn’t have any either. After a couple of minutes of quiet embrace, she turned her gaze to me. She whispered a single “Thank you” before turning into my chest, and closing her eyes for the night, finally asleep. &#x200B; \ Next chapter published 1st June.