I face forward and continue on. My foot catches on something submerged, not a rock or a sudden dip, but something that feels unnaturally straight and solid. I crouch slowly, reaching into the icy water to investigate. My fingers close around a cylindrical object. With a tug, I free it from the muck.
“Here’s a weapon,” I say, lifting the rusted pipe.
“I’ll take ‘things that can be used to beat the shit out of someone for $500, Alex,’” Declan says behind me.
Benjamin laughs. “Really, bro? Jeopardy right now?”
“YOLO, motherfucker.”
I grin. “I think it was Colonel Mustard, in the tunnels, with a lead pipe.”
Benjamin groans. “Fuck both of you right now.”
Chapter 43
XAVIER
The water finally recedes, and I emerge from the pool, my clothes heavy and clinging to my skin. My breath is visible as tiny puffs of air, the cold penetrating the marrow of my bones.
“Now we know where the splashing and cussing came from,” I mutter.
Eventually, the tunnel opens up to a small cavern with three possible routes to take. We stop, each man considering his options.
“The left tunnel slopes downward, potentially leading to another pool of water,” I say. “The right, while narrower, continues on the same level. The middle is darker than the others. I’m taking the right tunnel, but you don’t have to.”
Declan claps me on the back. “Of course I’m going with you. I need someone to set off the boobytraps for me.”
“You’re such a dick.” I turn to look at Benjamin. “You coming?”
When he nods, I start walking. After several minutes, the echoes of my steps change, my instincts flaring. Something about the sound is off. It’s hollower, less solid. I stop and extendthe pipe to tap the ground, listening to the response of each touch.
Tap. Tap. A thud, then a hollow echo. It’s a warning.
I apply a bit more pressure, and the ground just inches in front of me gives way, crumbling into a dark void below. Benjamin and Declan, a few paces behind, curse as they watch the floor collapse.
“Good catch,” Declan murmurs, his voice low, a mix of relief and admiration in his eyes. “Told you. You make an excellent guinea pig.”
I ignore his joke. “I’m turning back and taking the other tunnel. If you want to keep going forward, take the pipe to gauge the structural integrity of the ground.”
Declan shakes his head. “Nah, man, I’m good.”
“Same,” Benjamin says, his gaze still wide.
We head back the way we came. Although retracing our steps might cost us some time, it’s better than plunging to our deaths. Within a manner of minutes, we reach the entrance to the other tunnels, and I stride forward, selecting the middle one.
My flashlight is weak against the enveloping darkness that stretches endlessly ahead. The only sounds are our footsteps and my steady breathing that bounces off the walls, amplifying my unease.
I focus, trying to overlay the mental map burned into my memory as a child, over the labyrinthine reality before me. What I recall has the hairs on my neck rising.
“This tunnel is full of trip wires,” I say. “Watch your step.”
“How do you know?” Declan asks.
“My father used to leave me in these tunnels during the college reunions.”
“Well, that’s fuc?—”
“Stop!” I say, raising my hand to signal Benjamin and Declan. They come to a halt, standing stiller than marble statues.
