Chapter 24
Aiden went first.
I watched from the top as his boots hit the bottom with a dull thud. Dust rolled up in lazy waves, thick enough to make me cough.
He raised his phone, the flashlight beam slicing through the darkness. “Stay put,” he called up. His voice echoed off the nearby walls, low and steady, the tone that meant he expected to be obeyed.
I kept climbing down anyway.
He moved carefully, scanning the small chamber around him. The light caught old wooden beams, warped and splintered, wedged into the dirt like ribs in the earth. The air down there smelled damp, metallic, with a faint trace of something rotten underneath.
I reached the last rung and dropped beside him. My boots landed hard, and a small puff of dust spiraled up between us.
He turned, one brow arched. “I told you to stay upstairs.”
“You might need backup.” My voice came out tight.
He didn’t answer, just lifted his light again.
“What is this place?” I asked quietly.
“Could be an old mining shaft,” he said. “Or a tunnel from when the town first went up. Silverville’s got a lot of history buried under it.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I murmured, shocked to see a tunnel spinning off to the right. “How far do you think it goes?”
He moved forward, crouching near one of the beams. “No idea. The wood’s bad. Half-rotted.” He brushed a gloved hand across the wall, dirt crumbling away under his touch. “We shouldn’t be down here long.”
I crouched too, peering past him. The tunnel ahead looked like a throat, narrow and dark, curving away into nothing. My phone flashlight shook in my hand, the light shaking as my pulse kicked faster.
He stood and looked back at me. “You armed?”
Darn it. “No. I stopped carrying after December.”
He didn’t look surprised. “That’s good. But stay here.”
I clicked off the flashlight and turned the phone in my hand. “I’m calling the sheriff.”
Aiden nodded once.
Franco answered on the second ring, his voice sharp and distracted. Revelry sounded around him. “This better be good.”
“It is,” I said. “I saw someone in a leprechaun costume that matched Nana’s, and we followed him or her to a tunnel system beneath the carousel in the park. Aiden and I are down here now.”
There was a pause, then a low curse. “You’re what?”
“Did you know this was here?” I asked.
“A tunnel system? No.” Movement sounded. “I’m headed your way with backup.”
I ended the call, flicking my phone into flashlight mode.
Aiden turned to me, gaze steady. “Stay here.” He didn’t wait for an argument. He adjusted his grip on his phone, raised the gun, and started down the tunnel. The light from his phone grew smaller with every step until it disappeared around the bend.
I stood there for maybe five seconds before I went after him.
The air got colder as I moved deeper. The walls pressed close, rough and uneven. My phone light caught pieces of old wood and jagged stone. The tunnel angled downward, sloping into the earth. The entire area smelled of wet clay and rusted metal.
I followed the faint scuff marks his boots had left in the dirt.
“Aiden?” I called softly.
No response.
The tunnel turned sharply right. I paused and lifted my light. The beam caught nothing but more dirt, more dark. The ground trembled faintly under my boots, a slow vibration that made the fine dust drift from the ceiling.
Then it came again. Stronger.
“Aiden,” I hissed.
An explosion tore through the silence, rumbling all around me.
The world erupted. A shockwave hit me hard enough to throw me backward. My shoulder slammed into the wall, the breath ripped out of my lungs. The light from my phone spun crazily before it went black.
The noise was deafening, a roar that filled every part of me. The ground split beneath my feet. Dirt and stone rained from above, striking my arms and back. I could taste dust, grit grinding against my teeth.
“Aiden,” I shouted again, but the sound was swallowed by the collapse.
I tried to move forward, but the floor shifted beneath me. The ground wasn’t solid anymore. It kept moving.
My knees wobbled and I dropped.
I lay there for a second, coughing, my ears ringing. The air was thick with dust and smoke, the smell of burnt earth sharp in my nose. Slowly, I forced myself up. My palms stung, my head throbbed, and something warm trickled down the side of my face. Blood, probably.
“Aiden,” I croaked out “Answer me.”
Nothing broke the silence except the faint creak of settling dirt. Then a dripping sound slowly echoed throughout.
I crawled toward a faint glow up ahead. My phone, somehow still on, its cracked screen flickering weakly. I grabbed it and turned the light toward the tunnel ahead.
That’s when I saw him.
Aiden lay on his back, maybe ten feet away, half-buried under a mound of dirt and debris. His phone flashlight was still on, its beam aimed uselessly at the wall. His gun lay beside his hand.
“Oh God,” I whispered, scrambling to him.
I clawed at the dirt covering his chest and shoulder, pulling it away until I could see his face. He wasn’t moving. His eyes were closed, his skin pale beneath the grime.
“Aiden, come on.” My voice broke. I pressed my fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. It was there—faint, but steady. Relief hit so hard it made me dizzy. “You’re alive,” I whispered. “You’re fine. You’re fine.”
I kept digging until I freed his arm and shoulder. My hands shook so badly I could barely hold the phone steady. The light flickered, throwing long, broken shadows across the walls.
The slide behind us had sealed completely. The ceiling above sagged in places, clumps of dirt hanging loose like wet paper.
I tried to move one of the larger rocks pinning his leg, but it wouldn’t budge. “Come on,” I muttered, pushing harder. The stone shifted half an inch, then stopped. My fingers burned.
I sat back, panting, my chest tight. The air felt thinner down there.
Looking around, I frantically searched for a way out. The way we’d come was totally blocked. The tunnel ahead stretched forward into darkness, but the ground there sloped upward again. Maybe it led somewhere. Maybe not.
Had the leprechaun set off the explosion on purpose? Did he or she have more dynamite in that knapsack?
I shuddered and turned back to Aiden. He was still unconscious, his breathing shallow. I brushed dirt from his hair, leaving streaks of mud on his forehead. “Please wake up.” My throat ached so badly each word felt like a burn.
Somewhere deeper in the tunnel, water dripped, steady and slow. The sound was the only thing moving in the stillness.
I pulled my phone close, trying to check the signal. Nothing. No bars. No service. Just a faint, mocking icon of a battery that was almost gone.
Aiden’s lips were pale and dust clung to the stubble on his jaw. He looked too still. Too quiet.
I pressed my forehead to his arm. “You’re not dying down here. I’m not letting that happen.”
The tunnel groaned above me, a low grinding sound that made my stomach twist. Pebbles rained down. I flinched, then forced myself to stand. My legs shook but held.
The slide behind us was nothing but collapsed earth, packed tight. No digging through that. The only way left was forward.
I looked once more at Aiden. “I’ll find a way out,” I told him. “I’ll get help. Just stay alive.”
The air was getting colder. My light flickered again. I could see the faint shimmer of moisture on the walls, the dirt slick and dark. I took one last breath and started moving.
Every step sent small showers of dirt down from above. The tunnel curved slightly to the left, and the incline grew steeper. My hands brushed against the wall as I climbed, fingers sinking into the soft soil.
Behind me, the sound of settling earth deepened into something else—a low, long sigh from the collapsing shaft.
I looked back once, the light trembling in my grip. Aiden lay half-hidden in shadow, still and silent.
“Anna? Aiden?” Sheriff Franco yelled from the other side.
I crawled back to Aiden. “We’re in here. The tunnel collapsed,” I yelled, planting my hand on Aiden’s chest, my breath panting. He was breathing, but it was shallow. “Aiden is hurt.”
I glanced back at the tunnel. Where had the leprechaun gone? Then my gaze caught on dynamite stacked in the corner. “There’s dynamite in here, Sheriff.” It wasn’t attached to anything, but it looked old. Unstable. Dangerous.
“Everybody out,” Franco yelled. “How unstable is the area you’re in?”
I looked up to see boards barely holding rocks at bay. “Not stable at all, and we followed someone in a costume who might have more dynamite,” I called out.
Dust filtered around, and I coughed. “Hold on, Aiden.” I leaned over and kissed his dirty cheek before standing and hurrying down the tunnel again. A leprechaun hat caught my eye, and I kept going, coming to a circular area with a ladder.
Another one.
Grabbing on, I lugged up to another trap door, which I shoved open with my shoulder. Gasping, I hauled myself up and looked around, before standing in a small closet that held cleaning supplies.
Where the heck was I? I opened the door and stopped short at seeing the interior of a train depot, which served as a tourist attraction. It was closed today. I looked toward the displays and gift shop, darting forward to grab the phone to dial Franco with the landline.
“Franco,” he growled, his voice sounding hollow.
“Sheriff,” I gasped. “I found the other end of the tunnel. It’s in the railroad depot. The entrance is in the closet that apparently holds cleaning products.”
The sound of falling rocks echoed through the line.
“All right. We’ll come in that way. Stay out of the tunnel,” the sheriff ordered.
I dropped the phone and ran back into the closet, quickly dropping down the ladder. A bag lay to the side, hopefully not holding more dynamite. Having to duck, I hustled down the tunnel and reached Aiden, who hadn’t moved.
Landing on my knees, I planted my hands on his chest. “Wake up,” I whispered, panicking.
He didn’t even twitch.
I looked around wildly. The earth rumbled again.
What if he had a neck injury? Or spine? I didn’t have a choice but to try to move him.
Something cracked above us and more rocks fell.
Heat flared down my throat. I inched around him and gently reached my hands beneath his shoulders, trying to pull him as carefully as possible from under the debris and toward the tunnel.
The large rock on his leg remained in place
He barely moved.
The guy was solid muscle at well over six feet tall. I grunted and managed to pull him a couple of inches, even with the rock on his leg, before my arms gave out.
I had to get him out of there.
Sounds came from the tunnel I’d just left, then running footsteps, then Deputy McCracken bustled into the alcove, dirt on his face, his body hunched over.
“Help me,” I whispered.
He instantly moved as another deputy came up behind him. Grunting, they lifted the rock off Aiden’s legs, shoving it to the side. One deputy grabbed Aiden’s arms, the other his legs, and they hefted him up, both groaning with the effort. Rocks continued to rain down on us, and I yelped.
“Go,” McCracken ordered, the cords in his neck straining.
I ran ahead, paused, and opened the bag near the bottom. Holy crap. It was the silver boxes. I hefted it over my shoulder and climbed the ladder, reaching for my dad to pull me all the way out. Sheriff Franco leaned against the counter, his face gray, one hand on his cane.
The world hitched again. I sucked in air, whirling toward the opening.
It took what felt like forever, but finally, McCracken pushed Aiden’s head out first. My dad rushed forward with several other people and they hauled him out and placed him on a waiting stretcher. The deputies followed, shutting the trap door.
“Everybody out,” the sheriff yelled.
We all hurried outside into the rain with four men carrying Aiden on the stretcher, right into an ambulance.
“We’ll try to life-flight him to Spokane, but if the weather gets worse, they’ll have to land in Timber City,” the sheriff said grimly.
The doors shut, and the ambulance zipped off, headed toward the small airport on the outside of town.
I sagged against my dad.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll drive.”