“Liar,” Blaze said aloud. “You were a liar.”
But the wanted poster . . . the name . . . it had been there, plain as day.
Jack Carrow...wanted for robbery and murder. The letters burned in his memory like brands.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Pa?” Blaze whispered, his voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me what you’ve done?”
He staggered forward, coughing into his sleeve. Splintered boards jutted out from the rubble. He used them to steady himself as he limped through the collapsing shaft.
Behind him, a section of the ceiling gave way. Light exploded briefly as a spark struck something. Maybe it was a lamp. Maybe dynamite. The air roared with sudden flame.
The heat hit his back. He ran.
“Blaze!” The echo came again, clearer this time, like she was closer to the entrance.
“Marisol!” he shouted. “I’m here . . . don’t come in!”
He reached a bend in the tunnel. The floor had buckled from the shockwaves. The rails that once carried ore carts were twisted like wire. He jumped over a fallen beam, nearly losing his footing.
“I’m here!” he called again.
Her answer came faint but fierce, her voice steady even through the din. “Then move your feet, you fool!”
He almost laughed, but another crack cut him off. The entire right wall split open, a jagged wound in the rock.
He pressed his shoulder to the opposite side, forcing himself through a narrowing passage that shook with every tremor of the earth.
“Hold together,” he muttered. “Hold together.”
The words came out between gasps. His lungs burned. The dust was so thick he could taste iron.
He stumbled on something soft. It was a body. One of the Riders, crushed beneath a slab of stone. The man’s arm twitched once before going still. Blaze stepped over him and kept moving.
He could see the faint glow of daylight now—a smear of gray-blue cutting through the swirling gloom ahead.
“Almost there,” he told himself.
A low groan rippled through the tunnel. It was like the mountain itself was warning him. The support beams ahead were cracking in sequence. One after another, they snapped like rifle fire.
He broke into a run.
“Blaze!” Her voice again. It was clearer. Closer.
“I see you!” he shouted.
“Keep comin’!” she replied.
He lunged forward, coughing violently. Dust stung his eyes. His hand brushed the revolver at his hip out of habit. He didn’t even remember firing the last shots.
The floor pitched again, sending him sprawling. His shoulder slammed hard against the rock. Pain flared white-hot down his arm.
He groaned, pushing himself up and blinking through the haze. One last beam stood between him and the mouth of the tunnel. It was splintered down the middle, creaking like a dying tree.
“Hold,” Blaze whispered. “Just a little longer.”
He ducked and sprinted for the exit. The beam gave way just as he passed beneath it.
Rock and dirt poured down in a deafening roar. He dove forward with his arms over his head and hit the ground rolling.
