RE: The story in series: Chapter One

This is a great idea - and an excellent way to grow communities. So - my Chapter 2:
Zoe, aghast at what has transpired, sinks down to her haunches, peering over the edge. She calls out to Marcus, but only silence greets her call. There is not even an echo. She picks up some loose gravel and drops it into the hole. She cannot hear it reach the bottom. She is reminded of the hobbit film, Lord of the Rings, when the group enters the Goblin Hall at Moriah. She tries to think quickly. She cannot abandon Marcus and seek the help of his father, Joseph, because should Marcus emerge unscathed before the night is over, he will not remain unscathed. If she doesn’t seek help and Marcus is never seen again, she will be blamed – unless, and the thought does cross her mind, she never mentions that she has seen him and returns to her bed. No-one in the village would be any the wiser that she has even been outside of her room this night. She dismisses that thought as unworthy. She would never forgive herself, and her life would be ruined. No, she was brave enough to venture up the mountain in the dark; she will brave the consequences of this night, whatever transpires. But her courage does not extend as far as alerting Joseph to Marcus’s disappearance. She wonders vaguely whether she can use the knowledge she has of Joseph’s affair with her mother, Marta. She shivers. Best not to think about it. She looks at her phone. She remembers last summer, when Susannah, the vulcanologist from the University of Athens was up here on the mountain. She had a van with lots of computer equipment – a seismograph, she called it. Her boyfriend, Con, was with her assisting. He was an unemployed archaeology postgraduate, working as a barista in the village. Everywhere in Greece were people who had fallen on hard times since the Germans had imposed the austerity measures, but who made do, following the traditional ways of the people. In some ways, Zoe thought it was a form of passive rebellion – a refusal to comply with authority, since the benefits would not be apparent to them, possibly ever. She had Susannah’s number in her phone. Zoe made up her mind. She dialled a number. Her sister, Eleni, picked up. “Hey, Zoe, what’s up?”
Zoe answered, “Eleni, I don’t have much time. Can you do something for me?”
Eleni, intrigued, responded, “I don’t know. That depends.”
Zoe said, “Look, you know that ticket I bought for the Ed Sheeran concert in Athens? If you do this for me, you can have it, but you’re not to tell anyone, okay?”
Eleni considered for a moment. She crossed her fingers and said, “Sure. What is it?” Her mind was working on ways to milk this golden opportunity, but in the meantime, she’d promised to help.
“Can you pick up my rucksack, the one I took camping to the islands?” Eleni agreed. Zoe continued, “And could you fill the water bottle and put in Fido’s steel bowl? Also, could you chuck in some dog bones from the freezer? And maybe some food for me, too – whatever’s leftover in the fridge, and some bread. Then I want you to take the bag and leave it under the stone bridge, on the mountain side, but well out of the water. There’s a shelf.”
Zoe clicks off. The rucksack contains rope, a penknife, candles, a torch and some other supplies. She is going to join Marcus. Next she phones Susannah.