Page 34 of Silent Grave (Sheila Stone #12)

"He won't be able to resist," she cut him off. "Me, alone, in his darkness? It's everything he wants. And this time, he won't have the advantage of night vision."

A massive crash rumbled deeper in the tunnels. The mountain was coming apart around them.

"You'll die down here," Finn said quietly.

"Get her out," Sheila replied, already turning back toward the darkness. "That's an order."

She heard Finn's footsteps retreating, then forced herself to focus. The tunnels groaned around her as she moved deeper, her flashlight beam catching clouds of dust and debris. Every step could trigger another collapse. Every breath could be her last.

But she knew Peter would come for her. His twisted need to teach, to control—he wouldn't be able to resist one final lesson.

She killed her light and waited in the absolute darkness, controlling her breathing the way she'd learned in the academy. Listening. The mountain's death throes created a cacophony of sound—falling rock, splintering timber, the deep groan of earth shifting above.

Then—footsteps. Careful, measured. Moving with the confidence of someone who knew these tunnels by heart, with or without night-vision goggles.

He must have been following us, she thought. He must have gone around, using a route we didn't see.

"I knew you'd understand," Peter said from the darkness. "The final lesson. The most important one."

Sheila remained silent, tracking his location by sound. He was circling, trying to get behind her.

"In darkness, we're all equal," he continued. "All stripped of pretense. Of illusion." A pause. "Except I've had decades to learn its secrets. To become one with—"

Sheila fired toward his voice. The muzzle flash lit the tunnel in strobing bursts, momentarily blinding them both. She heard him curse, followed by the sound of him stumbling backward.

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."

Peter just laughed—a horrible, empty sound that echoed through the disintegrating tunnels.

Sheila swallowed hard and made her choice. She grabbed Peter's arm and started down the right passage, praying her instincts were right. The tunnel floor sloped slightly upward, which had to be good. Had to mean they were heading toward the surface.

But each step brought more collapse. Support beams that had held for decades were giving way, and her flashlight beam caught glimpses of the ceiling sagging dangerously above them.

Her breath came in sharp gasps as they stumbled through the darkness, and she couldn't stop the trembling in her hands.

"We're going to die down here," Peter said matter-of-factly. "Just like all the others who thought they could master the darkness."

"Shut up," Sheila snapped, but fear clawed at her chest as another support beam crashed down behind them. The sound of collapse was getting closer, like a wave of destruction chasing them through the tunnels.

They reached a junction and Sheila hesitated, her flashlight darting between three identical passages. The wrong choice now would kill them both. Her light caught crosses carved into the walls—Peter's navigation markers—but they meant nothing to her.

The decision was taken from her as the left passage collapsed completely. The ceiling above them groaned—a deep, horrible sound that seemed to come from the mountain itself. Rocks and timber rained down as the main support beams began to fail.

Sheila stumbled forward, dragging Peter with her, knowing they were running out of time.

Her flashlight beam caught nothing but falling debris and collapsing tunnel.

The roar of destruction was deafening now, and she couldn't stop the sob that escaped her throat as she realized this might really be it.

"Sheila!" A voice echoed through the darkness—her father's voice. "Where are you?"

Relief flooded through her so strongly her knees nearly buckled. "Here!" she called back, but the sound of falling rock nearly drowned her out.

The tunnel groaned ominously above them. Major support beams were failing now, the collapse accelerating.

"Sheila!" Closer now. A flashlight beam cut through the dust.

"Dad! Here!"

Gabriel appeared through the chaos, limping but moving fast. His face was streaked with grime and blood—he must have fought his way through partial collapses to reach her.

"The whole system's coming down," he said. "We've got maybe two minutes."

They ran through the darkness, Gabriel leading the way. He didn't hesitate to make a decision when the tunnel branched—he must've memorized every twist and turn on his way in.

They burst into daylight seconds before the final collapse, the mountain settling behind them with a sound like thunder. Emergency vehicles and floodlights lit up the scene as deputies swarmed in to secure Peter.

Sheila turned to her father, seeing the fear and relief warring on his face. "You came back for me," she said in a choked voice. She embraced him, and he hugged her back.

"Always will," he said quietly into her hair. "No matter what's between us."

Above them, the mountain finally stilled, its secrets buried in darkness once again.