It takes me a moment or two to realize I didn’t cause the noise myself. I’m no longer moving. I’ve landed somewhere, somewhere squelchy: my ankles feel like they’re both crimped beneath me at unnatural angles, but I’m too shocked for them to hurt; my sides feel like a giant bruise. I am in utter darkness, the blackest of the black. Maybe it’s that my nose, my eyes, my pores are filled with dirt. Wiping muck from my eyes, I can’t see any better. I feel around: bits of earth crush beneath my fingers. My hand moves to my pocket, where I find my cell phone. Thank Baby Jesus; I could cry. It’s functioning, I think, or at least it’s giving off a faint light. I can’t tell if I have service; my dirt-encrusted eyes can’t see the detail, even though I must be crying freely, or bloodied, because my cheeks are damp. I swing the phone’s flashlight around, and visibility is impossibly poor, to say the least. I realize that I must be in a hole, with walls of cascading earth around me and wrist-thick strands of mossy and twiggy roots closer still. At least I’ve landed on something solid. I keep moving the flashlight around, and it reflects against something white blue for a split second, but the effect is lost as I keep moving—everything is so concealed by the roots—and I only see dirt. I turn off the phone light for a minute: There’s no light coming from anywhere around me, and I can’t decide if it’s scarier to have the light on or off.

I start to cry.

And then I blow more debris from my nose and squint to check how much battery (10 percent) and service I have (zero bars). Oh my God. I try to call the police, and it won’t go through. I try again: nothing.

I flick the flashlight on again. If I had to guess, between the branches, I’d say the hole I’m in is the size of a very small, low-ceilinged room. I can’t stand. My head’s touching hanging threads of earth that might be roots or worms or something else entirely. I start shivering; either my body temperature has just dropped or the soil beneath me is frosty and biting. I feel dampness on my cheeks and wonder if it’s tears or blood or just my rapid descent through so many rotten layers.

I try to come to my feet. I end up sliding painfully down the embankment on my knees, and that’s when I fall into it.