Page 37

FOURTEEN

He tore off his mask. “Hold on! I’m coming!

” he shouted. The ladder trumpeted its failure in a scream of twisting iron as the lower portion gave way.

His nerves were electric. Kit swung by one wrist in a desperate clutch.

Caught by his lantern light as he surged forward, she flailed, fighting to grab the section still fixed to the wall and succeeding, but a moment later that rung split too.

She clung tight. He thought he could reach up and snag her, prevent her fall, but the distance was too great and the entire ladder yanked free from the wall, crumbling, pelting him with rusty flecks.

Amid the shower of material, he tried to position himself to catch her. Too late. Too slow.

She cried out as she catapulted toward him. He had no other thought than to keep her from striking her head or breaking a leg, but she was turning and twisting as she toppled and he couldn’t judge the angle properly in the gloom.

She hit him like a cannonball in the center of his sternum.

Unable to compensate, he careened over backward, forcing the breath out of his lungs and sending his hat flying.

Pain sparked through him. Fortunately, she’d only fallen ten feet or so, but they still wound up in a tangled pile on the earthen floor.

He cranked his head up to see her, sprawled half on top of his chest, the crown of her head inches from his chin. “Are you okay?”

She breathed hard, hair swept over her eyes so she peered at him from under a curtain of bangs. “I was about to ask you that.”

“Totally fine,” he said in utter disagreement with his screaming ribs and protesting spine.

Her elbow had caught him in the cheekbone, but since he already had a blackened eye from Nico, it hardly mattered.

She eased off him and got to her knees, took stock a moment, then stood before offering him a helping hand he was not too proud to take.

It was a long way to standing, but he managed with only a brief groan.

“You didn’t hit your head?” Last thing they needed was another injury on top of the concussion she’d likely received in the truck crash.

“No.” She peered more closely at him. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

He forced himself to straighten. “No worse than high school football double sessions.”

“I’m glad. And relieved.” She spoke shyly. “Thanks for breaking my fall. But I would feel really bad if I hurt you.”

Her earnest comment eased the aching places.

He brushed the debris off his pants, hiding his face, which would no doubt betray his pain level.

Years of wear and tear from police work and his four decades were begin ning to catch up with him.

His pride spoke up. Nothing a hot shower , a double cheeseburger , and a quality mattress won ’t erase.

She scuffed a broken ladder rung aside with her boot as she looked around. “Where’s Tot?”

Tot answered Kit’s question before he did.

She released a long, plaintive yowl that bounced and echoed from a yard or so down the tunnel where he’d laid her in a spot of relative dryness.

No doubt the cold was seeping through the thin fabric of her blanket.

He was still trying to restore his lungs to full working capacity, grateful when Kit busied herself scooping up the baby and holding her close.

“Dark down here, isn’t it, Tot? But the air is so nice and clean.” Kit pulled her mask down. “Let me warm you up, okay?” She kissed Tot’s furrowed brow, which quieted the hollering and seemed to please Kit. “I’ll carry her for a while.”

He didn’t argue. Those two had created quite a bond.

All of them had. Kit had deep feelings for her two traveling companions, even if she wasn’t the type to speak about it.

“I would feel really bad if I hurt you.” He was more and more convinced that the warmth he felt from her wasn’t simply due to the incredible circumstances.

Archie would have winked at him and said to quit “jimmy jacking around already” and pin her down on the subject.

Patience , he told himself. The right moment would present itself. Tunnel , remember? They had a long, scary, uncertain passageway to traverse.

Maneuvering the baby into the blanket carrier on Kit’s back gave him more time to take stock and conclude that none of his major body parts had been broken, lacerated, or cracked.

When Tot was properly cinched, sucking on her binky, he collected the two backpacks and the duffel and shoved the sledgehammer in his pack, trying not to give too much attention to the extra weight that yanked on his bruised ribs.

“I hope we don’t have to use that.”

“Me too, but if we have to bash our way out of anything, it’ll be worth it.”

Kit pointed to the outside pockets of her pack. “Look in there.”

He didn’t ask for what, simply rooted around and pulled out two head lanterns on elastic straps.

“From Archie’s supply. Batteries already in them,” she said. “Thought it’d be easier than handheld equipment.”

He smiled. “Remind me to take you along next time I’m trapped in the wilderness, Miss Kit.”

She didn’t reply, but he thought she looked happy at the compliment.

She deserved it. The woman had survival skills, a quick mind, and enough grit for a dozen people, and they were going to need all the fortitude they could muster between them.

He strapped the elastic band around his baseball cap and turned it on.

She did the same with hers. For a moment, neither one of them spoke as they took in their surroundings.

Ahead stretched what looked like an endless conduit, a highway of unrelieved black.

There was no sound save a distant dripping.

The ground was rutted in places, and he could imagine the hardworking men who had tromped their way to and from the mill, calloused fingers, muscles strong as iron, uncomplaining about the bone-chilling damp they must have endured.

Pockets of moisture glit tered in the distance, water seeping in from parts unknown.

“It has to lead somewhere,” she murmured.

It had led somewhere, once upon a time, likely to Twinfork where Archie had grown up. Was it still a viable route? He double-checked the blanket knots tethering Tot to Kit’s trim waist.

Satisfied, he squeezed her shoulder.

She twisted to look at the spot where the ladder had been.

He knew what she was thinking, but she spoke it aloud anyway, her voice oddly dampened by the closed-in space.

“I guess climbing out and returning to the ATV isn’t an option anymore.”

“No, it’s not. Simplifies things. We only have one choice now. Go forward and get to the other side.”

He wasn’t sure if it was a ripple of determination or fear that made her lips quirk before she turned away. The thread of illumination from her lamp marked their path, and he joined his beam to hers.

He checked his watch—a few minutes after 7:00 p.m. He remembered when he’d babysat Mia that she didn’t get put down to bed with bottles because of tooth decay, but Daniela made sure to change and offer a snack or milk before bed for optimal sleeping.

Did the bottle they’d provided before they left count as her pre-bed bottle?

Did she need more snacks than the cookie that was still smeared on the shoulder of his jacket?

He longed for Archie’s advice, or at least his Marine Corps ingenuity.

He’d possibly have some sort of notion about how to climb back up to the mill regardless of the busted ladder.

But would that be the right choice? Returning to the ATV?

What was happening to the Cullen who instinctively knew the best way to proceed?

He firmed up his steps and edged a pace in front of Kit. The ceiling was low, but he could still move fairly comfortably without slumping too much, so he was confident Kit and Tot would not hit their heads on anything.

Tot was surprisingly quiet as they marched along, seemingly fascinated by the play of lights in the dark. Not a worry in the world, he thought, completely unaware of what they were risking to keep her alive.

He was happy that she didn’t understand their present peril, or what had happened to her mother. God had somehow kept Tot safe to this point. And he’ll help us see this through , Tater Tot. Don’t you worry.

The noise of the dripping grew louder as they walked, and the ground began to slope upward, ever so slightly. He prayed it meant they were traveling toward the surface.

A sudden tremble shook the passage, and he grabbed for Kit’s hand, pulling them against the tunnel wall. Not much protection if the thing caved in, but something.

A fist-sized rock flung itself loose and landed near his left boot.

Her body was as tense as his.

Life or death? Which would it be?

Faith, not fear. He fought the urge to close his eyes. No way would he flinch. He’d stare into that darkness and defy it, for all three of them, until God decided it was over. He held her close and they waited, a strand of Kit’s hair tickling his brow.

Imperceptibly, the movement died away.

He released her and chucked Tot under the chin. “A little shake, is all.” Her skin was cool. “Another half hour, and we should stop for snacks. Try to warm her up.”

Kit sighed. “Traveling with a baby is slow.”

“Particularly in an underground tunnel.” The passageway narrowed in some places, pinched down to the point where he walked with his neck bowed and guided Kit through sections with his palms on her head and Tot’s to prevent injury.

They squeezed through a particularly narrow juncture, and his lungs tightened as he considered.

What if the way becomes too narrow for us to pass?

He mentally scoffed at the idea. If full-grown lumbermen could do it, so could they.

Unless it had become blocked.

He thought of the fury unleashed by Mount Ember, the landslide that almost killed them. Wasn’t it probable that had unsettled the tunnel too?