But it wouldn’t be that way for long.
Another branch. Right or straight. I chose based on air movement again, following the faint current. Trying not to think about how Oliver probably knew exactly where each passage led. Trying not to think about the fact that I was underground and could be crushed at any second.
The walls narrowed.
I stopped. The tunnel ahead was tighter than what I’d passed through—maybe four feet wide, the ceiling dropping to just above my head. Still passable. Still room to move.
My chest constricted anyway.
Just go. It’s only a tunnel. You’re not trapped. You can turn around anytime.
Except I couldn’t. Behind me was Oliver, waiting, coming for me. What he had planned would be a lot worse than going through a tunnel.
I closed my eyes. Made myself feel my feet on solid ground, focused on the air moving in and out of my lungs.
I tried to move but still couldn’t. My legs wouldn’t obey. I barely heard the whimper that came out of my throat over my labored breathing.
But I still couldn’t move.
You’re okay, Kitten.It was Coop’s voice, low in my head, steady and calm.Breathe.
Not real. I knew it wasn’t real. But I clung to it anyway.
Take one step for me. Let’s go. We’ve got to move. We’ve both got to survive.
Was Coop alive? If he’d survived, I could too. I had to.
I took a step. And then another one.
Yes. Gruff, full of pride. I knew this was just my mind, but it was still working.Keep going.
I opened my eyes and kept moving.
A few seconds later, the tunnel opened into a larger chamber, and I nearly sobbed with relief. The space was maybe twenty feet across, the ceiling lost in darkness above my flashlight’s reach. Old mining equipment rusted in one corner—a cart with broken wheels, picks and shovels scattered like bones.
The air moved more freely here. I stood still for a moment, letting it wash over my face, my arms. Proof that this place wasn’t sealed. Proof there was a way out.
But I still had to get away from Oliver. Had to hope there was some way out of this mine that he didn’t know about. He couldn’t possibly know every single route and where it went.
Three passages led out of the chamber. I swept my light across each opening, looking for any sign of which way led to freedom.
Nothing. Just more darkness, more rock, more mountain pressing down.
I chose the middle passage and moved on.
The tunnels twisted and branched and doubled back on themselves, a maze carved into the mountain’s heart. I kept counting my steps, marking the turns. Left, right, straight, right. Probably useless, but if I got turned around, if I needed to backtrack, maybe the numbers would help.
The tunnel I was following dead-ended without warning. Rock filled the passage ahead—a collapse, ancient by the look of it, the debris settled and solid. I’d have to backtrack. Find another way.
I turned.
And froze.
Light.
Not my light—another beam, brighter and whiter, sweeping across the tunnel walls somewhere behind me. Moving with purpose.
Oliver.
