Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
Bishop
I climb the mountain until I find the hole in the ground that serves as a vent to the cave.
If my math is right, this should be close to the main mine shaft that Aspen and I found climbing through here the other day.
I’ll have to hope I’ve done it right the first time because she doesn’t have time for me to spare to double-check.
I tie a rope off to the tree and lower it down the avalanche of snow that’s created a ramp-like entrance to the interior.
I’m hoping it holds, but I don’t have time to be safe when her life is on the line.
I make my way down the line and over the snow, careful to take it one step at a time.
If this is as close to the area where we found the sword as I think it is, then I don’t want to cause my own mini avalanche and announce my presence.
The lower I descend, clutching close to the snow, the louder I hear the roar of water echoing in the distance. It almost sounds like a waterfall.
It must be the snowmelt we heard the other day picking up its pace as the warmth of the last week takes its toll on the snowpack at higher elevations.
Even the snow on this mound has developed a slick outer layer where it appears to be melting and refreezing through the daytime and nighttime temperature fluctuations.
The last few feet are almost pure ice, and I slide my way to the bottom, holding my breath as my feet hit the floor of the mine.
The light flooding in from above illuminates the area directly around me, but beyond that, it’s difficult to see.
I flick a small beacon light on that I’ve attached to my backpack.
It gives a soft, subtle glow. Enough to give me a small bubble of vision, but not enough to blaze a path in front of me.
I have no idea where they are yet, and I don’t want them to see me before I see them.
I start down the tunnel, using the map Aspen scanned into her dataset as a guide.
I creep slowly along the tunnel wall and use it to help guide me in the dim light.
Each step I take seems to bring me closer and closer to the sound of the roaring water, and the air is thicker the further away I get from the vent shaft, which I hope is a good sign that I’m on the right track.
I walk for another hundred feet or so, and then the tunnel opens up to a perpendicular shaft, at the base of which I can see what looks like a human figure slumped over.
My heart races with the sight, but the closer I get, the more it looks like a large man.
I crouch low, hoping to keep myself as invisible as possible for as long as possible, letting the man slowly come into full vision.
It’s Jay, Aspen’s uncle, and the man who dropped off my daughter before turning tail and running.
I thought he was leaving before one of his nephews could deliver retribution for his part in this, but apparently, he raced over to the scene of the crime.
He’s bloody, gripping his shoulder and using his legs to slowly propel himself along the side of the tunnel, inch by inch.
He must have gotten into some sort of altercation with the governor and his sons on the way in. That bodes well for me.
When I reach the end of the tunnel, I put my hand on my gun, standing up and making myself known to him.
His eyes go wide, but he doesn’t say a word.
I press my finger to my lips, and he blinks his understanding, jerking his head in the direction to my left.
I motion that way and mouth the questions I need answers to.
“Aspen?” I ask.
He nods.
“How many?”
He holds up three fingers.
I point to my gun.
“Armed?”
He nods and holds up three fingers again.
Fuck. Those aren’t good odds. I probably should have listened when I stormed out of the Avarice on my own.
But then, good or bad odds, I’m my wife’s last hope down here.
“Shot?” I ask, pointing to my own arm and then his.
He nods again.
I peek out beyond the tunnel, and sure enough, about thirty feet away, I see the three men standing near the edge of the cavernous opening of the shaft.
All of them focused on what’s in front of them and not looking back toward the sheriff and me.
I cross the tunnel and reach for a tourniquet I have stuffed in my vest, unraveling it from its rolled position as fast as I can and wrapping it around Jay’s arm.
I tighten it as best I can, rushing in the low light, and his muted grunt is thankfully overshadowed by the roar of the water.
“I’ll come back for you,” I say quietly, and Jay pats my arm.
“She’s down in the pit.” His voice is weak and raspy, but the information chills me to the bone. My wife is so close and yet so far away. I nod and begin my slow and careful walk down the tunnel, clinging to the darkness and making my way soundlessly as fast as I can.
When I’m within a few feet of them, I can see that the governor is also worse for wear, bleeding from his side and his arm. It appears that one of his sons is helping to hold him up.
“Work faster, bitch!” the other son yells down the shaft.
I hear her make a response, unintelligible over the roar of the water, which is practically deafening where I’m standing.
I can see the source of the water. It’s pouring in from all the cracks in the ceiling and gathering into a massive waterfall that’s crashing down into the shaft.
That much water has to be flooding the mine.
A process that’s only going to pick up speed as the sun reaches its apex and the heat of the day takes its toll on the snow.
Whatever she says is not taken well because the governor’s son fires off a shot down into the shaft, piercing the white noise of the waterfall and echoing through the chamber. I hear her scream, and the governor roars at his son. My heart rate triples, and I move to close in on them.
I don’t have a plan. I just know I need to see Aspen and make sure she’s okay. I can hear her unintelligible screams from below, and that at least gives me hope she’s alive.
Suddenly, there’s a new sound, the whisper of wings that builds to its own cacophony of chirps, competing with the water to drown out the sound of any of the human voices in the space.
Fucking bats.
They swarm down from the ceiling of the shaft, circling and flitting, their tiny bodies assembling into a winged horde visible in its descent from the flashlights and headlamps of the governor and his sons.
The light must piss the little army off or confuse them because they rush toward the governor and his sons, and I duck out of instinct.
The governor tries, but they crowd around him, his son dropping the hold he had on him as he tries to swat at the bats and trips backward, landing at my feet.
His eyes go wide when he sees me, and he opens his mouth to scream before I put my boot into his jaw, silencing him as he eats the rubber of the sole, and the shock on his face is evident.
I pull the knife from my belt, but before I can strike, Jay does.
He’s at my side, still hobbling but not so much that he can’t deal a deathly blow to the son’s windpipe with his pistol.
He silences him except for the muted, choking gasps he makes as he tries and fails to take in air.
He claws at my legs and my boot, trying to free himself and kicking at the ground in order to escape.
Jay rips the knife from my hand and lodges it into his throat, silencing him forever.
The bats are still circling around the governor in their bewilderment, trying to get past them and down the tunnel, away from the human intrusion into their space.
He stumbles around, attempting to swat them away, desperately close to the precipice of the shaft.
But at the last minute, he falls backward, into the wall, and groans loudly when a sharp bit of the track that’s come free from the wall impales his leg, rooting him in place.
The pain forces him to drop his gun, and I start to charge the other son, reaching him just as he turns to find me there.
But the bats have other ideas, flying straight for us as we block their exit and forcing us both to duck down.
The other son uses this chance to jump me, knocking us both to the ground in a manner that sees my gun scattering across the floor out of reach.
I look for the sheriff, hoping he’s close by and capable of either using it or tossing it to me, but he’s gone.
As the son and I struggle over his gun, we cause it to misfire, ricocheting off the walls and down the echoing stretch of the tunnel.
We turn over one another, rolling from one side of the tunnel to the other as we fight to get the upper hand.
I manage to gain control over his wrist, digging my fingers into a pain point there and loosening his grip until the gun falls.
It tumbles end over end, threatening to fire, and then clatters to a stop a good five feet away.
Right as he wraps his hands around my throat.
At least this will be a fair fight.
I glance up to see the sheriff throw a rope down the shaft, yelling loudly to Aspen below.
The sound of her voice echoing back and the slosh of water from beneath give me hope I desperately need right now.
I pray that Jay is strong enough to hold her as he wraps his end around a rotting support beam to help gain leverage in his weakened state.
But as I punch and kick and try my level best to get this son of a bitch off me, my vision starts to fade at the edges.
Instinct kicks in. I’m at death’s door, and I’m Aspen’s best hope.
It’s now or never.