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Then darkness again. Complete. Perfect.
"You missed," he said, but his voice was tight with pain.
"Did I?"
More debris fell as the tunnel continued its slow collapse. Sheila moved silently to her right, using the wall as a guide.
"The darkness speaks to those who listen," Peter said, his voice moving. Hunting her. "My father taught me that. Taught me to embrace—"
"Your father was a monster," Sheila cut him off. "And you became something even worse."
She heard him moving closer, drawn by her voice. Just a few more steps...
The attack came from her left—fast, silent, deadly. But Sheila was ready. She ducked under his grab and drove her elbow up, catching him in the throat. They went down hard as more rocks clattered around them.
Peter recovered faster than she'd expected, rolling away and then lunging back. His fist caught her ribs, driving the air from her lungs. She stumbled, using the wall to steady herself as debris continued to rain down around them.
"You think you understand darkness?" Peter's voice came from somewhere to her right. "You've only played at its edges. I was born in it. Shaped by it."
Sheila controlled her breathing, listening past the mountain's groans. A scuff of boot on stone betrayed his position. She spun and struck, her fist connecting with solid flesh. Peter grunted but grabbed her arm, shoving her against the wall.
Pain exploded across her back. She brought her knee up instinctively, felt it connect. His grip loosened, and she broke free, dropping and rolling as his fist whistled through the space where her head had been.
"Good," he said, breathing heavily. "You're learning. The darkness forces us to trust other senses. To become more than what we are in the light."
A support beam crashed down nearby, showering them with splinters and rock dust. Sheila used the sound to mask her movement, circling to flank him. But Peter had the same idea. They collided in the darkness, grappling blindly as the tunnel continued to disintegrate around them.
His hands found her throat again, fingers digging into soft tissue. Sheila drove her thumb into the pressure point at his wrist, forcing his hand away. She followed with a head-butt that connected with his nose.
Peter staggered back, cursing. "You think this changes anything?" His voice was thick with blood. "These tunnels are my home. My church. You're just another student who needs to learn—"
Sheila swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. But he caught her sleeve as he fell, dragging her down with him. They rolled in the darkness, trading blows, neither able to gain advantage as rocks continued to fall around them.
His elbow caught her temple, sending stars exploding across her vision. She responded with a knee to his solar plexus, felt the whoosh of air leaving his lungs. But he was already moving, years of fighting in darkness making him deadly even when stunned.
"Your father locked you down here," she said through gritted teeth as they struggled. "Chained you in the darkness. And instead of breaking free, you became just like him."
Peter's response was a savage blow to her ribs, but she was ready this time. She caught his arm and used his own momentum to flip him. He landed hard, and she followed him down, driving her knee into his back as she reached for her cuffs.
He bucked and twisted with surprising strength, nearly breaking her hold. But Sheila had trained for this—countless hours in the gym, practicing holds and takedowns in low-light conditions. She shifted her weight, maintaining control as she fought to secure the cuffs.
"It's over," she said as the first cuff clicked into place.
Peter thrashed harder, almost dislodging her. "The darkness..." he wheezed. "It still has so much to teach..."
"The only thing it taught you was how to hide from your pain."
She got the second cuff on just as another section of tunnel collapsed nearby. The whole mountain seemed to be giving up, decades of secrets finally coming to light.
Sheila yanked Peter to his feet, her initial triumph fading as she realized their situation. The tunnel behind them had completely collapsed, and the groaning from above suggested the rest would follow soon. In the darkness, every passage looked the same.
"Which way?" she demanded, her heart pounding as more debris rained down. When Peter didn't respond, she shook him. "Tell me!"
"Why would I do that?" His voice was calm despite their dire situation. "Let the darkness decide our fate, I say."
A massive crash from somewhere above made Sheila flinch. Fine dust filled her lungs, and she could taste copper—whether from blood or the mine itself, she wasn't sure. The beam of her flashlight caught falling rocks that seemed to grow larger with each passing second.
"Last chance," she said, fighting to keep the tremor from her voice. "Tell me how to get out of here, and we'll both live."