Her strides grew longer, faster.
He suspected she probably hadn’t been immersed in another person’s life intensely since her marriage dissolved. Yet here they were now, with no one but each other, and they hadn’t landed in this spot by coincidence. God worked in mysterious ways. He pointed out a glimmering puddle, large as a hubcap, which they skirted single file before he plunged in again. “But you control your schedule, right? And where you’ll be? Where you drive and how you stack the jobs? So if you met someone interesting—”
“Yes,” she interrupted, the clipped word echoing slightly in the dank space. “I am in charge of my schedule, and like I said, my focus is business, not relationships. What about you? How’s your dating life?”
He smiled at the way she’d turned the tables. “I like dating. I like interacting with people in general, women in particular.”
“Anything serious?”
“Nothing that’s stuck.” He’d dated as an on-duty cop and before. He’d even fallen in love once or twice, but it was never the challenging kind of love that made him want to be a better version of himself, not the type that made it all worth the struggle and sacrifice. To his mind, God gave every serious couple an empty box, and each person had to be prepared to put more in than they took out. In some of his relationships, it had been him doing all thefilling. In others, he wasn’t sure the woman welcomed what he’d added.
“You don’t want to put down roots?” Kit’s tone was more curious than offended, and he took courage.
He ducked under a low spot to avoid a whack to the temple. “Opposite, actually. I do want to put down roots with the person God meant for me, deep roots that will last as long as I do.”
Several beats of silence followed. “How do you know God didn’t mean for you to be alone?”
She was really asking the question of herself, he knew. He took her hand, cold and soft, and held it firmly. “’Cuz I’m not built that way, and people are better together.”
She cocked her head at him, like a bird, thinking. Considering, maybe? His heart thudded faster. The air in the tunnel grew colder and stickier under his boots. Far away came a rumble and roar, and the tunnel shuddered around them.
He stepped forward, but there was suddenly no solid surface under his feet.
Kit cried out and grabbed his belt which kept him from falling outright, but he still plunged forward as the tunnel floor dropped. An ungraceful stagger step prevented a faceplant, but he landed in frigid water up to his ankles.
The water rushed in from somewhere, passed his shins, and surged to his knees. Kit snatched the baby from the carrier.
“We have to go back!” he shouted, but a roar swallowed his comment as a fissure appeared high in the wall, gushing water and vomiting stone. Within seconds the fissure widened to a crevice that dislodged the stones around it,sending rock bombs raining down around them. They could not retreat through the deadly hail.
They splashed ahead through the swirling water. Kit held Tot as high as she could. He wanted to take the baby, but he didn’t dare stop to make the transfer or they’d risk being struck by the falling stones. Icy waves slapped at them, and Kit surged on with Tot held level with her shoulders.
“Look! There. Right there!” she screamed. Unable to point, she gestured with her chin. His heart leapt. Through the thundering swirl, he realized they’d made it to the end of the tunnel.
Half swallowed up by the water was a ladder similar to the first, gleaming in the light of their headlamps. A metal plate shone at the top with the familiar bolts.
The exit. They’d actually reached it.
He splashed toward the ladder. A rock ledge about halfway up jutted out a few feet. With no time to explain, he held out his arms and helped Kit and Tot from the rising water, settling them onto the ledge. He heaved the soggy bags up next to them. The flow was lapping only eighteen inches below their perch and steadily rising.
He grabbed the sledgehammer from his pack and charged up the iron rungs. As soon as he was within reach, he started slamming the protruding bolts. This time he’d have to knock off the underside and hope it would be enough to prize open the trapdoor. One bolt sheared away immediately. Excellent. Maybe the damp had corroded all four bolts.
He continued to bang, the rushing water and his own frantic breathing loud in his ears. The second bolt clangedloose. He spared a glance down to see that Kit was crouched on the ledge, her shins swallowed up by the water, Tot clenched to her shoulder. They had moments left before it would be too late. The third bolt gave way, then the fourth. Elated, he applied his shoulder to the metal plate.
It didn’t move.
He whacked each corner with the sledgehammer until he thought the impact would shatter his wrists. The plate inched up on one end, the feel of fresh air bathed his face. But the metal refused to give farther.
More. He needed to move it more. Again, he shoved against the metal and pushed until his bones were about to break.
“Cullen!” Kit yelled. “What is that?”
He paused, scanning wildly, sweat stinging his eyes. “I don’t see anything.”
“Listen.”
Listen?He caught it. An electronic chirp he couldn’t place at first.
“It’s your phone,” she said incredulously.
