He could not stop the grin. “You think I’m handsome?”
“The best-looking chicken I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks.” Ego thoroughly checked, he flattened himself against the tunnel wall. “You two go. If it makes a move, it’s going down.”
Her giggle bounced and echoed in the passageway, and he was sure he was never going to hear the end of his cowardice. Rock in hand, he smiled. He didn’t mind being the source of merriment for Kit, but he fisted his weapon tight anyway, shoulders to the wall so he could keep the rats in his field of vision in case of a rear attack. He didn’t fully exhale until he’d edged by with no incident.
Rats behind him, he moved closer to Kit and Tot. A gradual bend brought them into a damper area where they had to tiptoe around small puddles that trickled into larger ones. Water oozed through cracks in the stone walls. Ominous? Or did it indicate they were moving in the right direction?
Minutes bled into hours, or so it seemed to Cullen as they trudged through the void. The clammy chill felt ever more oppressive the farther they traveled. It was almost ten when Tot began to fuss.
They had to continue on for another fifteen minutes before they came upon a stretch that was relatively dry with the added benefit of a couple of rocks that could act as seats.
Cullen lifted Tot off Kit’s back. The bottle in his pocket wasn’t warm, but his body heat had at least kept it tepid. With a painful effort, he eased down on a stone and offered the milk, which Tot took after a couple rejections, swallowing only a few ounces before refusing any more.
“Oh Tottie. You’re tired of this dark place, huh? Me too.” He asked Kit for a handwarmer, then wrapped it carefully in his spare knit cap before he nestled it near her tummy. She wriggled, but he distracted her with a graham cracker. There was no way he was going to risk cereal bits falling all over and enticing the rat brigade. His ribs throbbed with a steady pain now that he was stationary, the muscles tightening with the cold.
Kit unwrapped some protein bars and gave him one, which he ate with his free hand. She followed that up with a water bottle. His throat was parched, and he would have happily downed the whole thing, but there was simplyno way to tell how much farther they’d have to travel. A couple sips would do.
Kit turned off her headlamp, and he did the same after activating the handheld lantern, which did little to dispel the heavy darkness. They listened to the steady rippling water and the quiet shushing, which he sincerely hoped wasn’t caused by rat activity.
She gazed at the way ahead of them. “Feels like we’ve been hiking for days. Did Archie mention how long it took him and his friends to get home through the tunnel? Or how many miles it extended?”
“If he did, I sure don’t remember.” He tried to shift to one side on his rock seat to ease his aching bones.
Kit sighed. “I wish he was here with us.”
“Me, too, only I’d be in trouble about the rat thing.”
“You’re still in trouble over the rat thing,” she said with a laugh.
He enjoyed the way her laughter surrounded him, enveloped him, cheered him even in this dank place. “Yeah. Might just ruin my whole rep.”
With Kit holding Tot and him the diaper, they managed to change it and get her dressed again. He draped Tot over his shoulder with the handwarmer sandwiched between them. A tight circle of patting and walking did the trick, and she grew heavy in his arms. Kit tied her on Cullen’s back, and they set off again, headlamps on. He didn’t feel too refreshed, and he was still thirsty. Kit must have been too, but she didn’t complain.
“There was a culvert type thing near my middle school, all damp and dim like this place,” he said. “We used to climb around and slide down the sides and such. Thoughtwe were hot stuff, impressing the girls to get them to go out with us.”
“Did it work?”
He chuckled. “Nah. I eventually grew up and figured out it took more than teen bravado to get a date.” He paused, feeling the moment opening up before him. “Do you date much?” Slick, the way he’d brought up that topic. His palms grew sweaty, as if he were an eighth-grade boy again.
“Me?”
“Of course, you. Tot’s decades away from entering the dating pool,” he joked.
“Not much.”
He ignored the defensive shell that coated her words. Sometimes people needed to be coaxed. He didn’t think they’d have many more opportunities to walk so close together, momentarily safe from threat, literally treading on common ground. Besides, the idea of growing closer to Kit drew him like a moth to a porch light.
“Why not?” Did his comment read as rude or interested?
She tipped her face away from him, sending the light from her headlamp running from his. Darkness piled in between the beams. He tried to think of what to say to smooth over the awkwardness he’d obviously created, but he couldn’t come up with anything.
“That’s kind of personal,” she said finally.
“I thought we’d already gotten personal.” He thought of their conversation about her family and his. Wasn’t that personal? He shrugged off the frisson of alarm. “I’m curious by nature.” Especially about her.
Her light separated a fraction more from his. “It’s because of work. I don’t stay in one place too long since I started my trucking company. I don’t have time for relationships. I have a business to run.”
