Aiden lay on his back, maybe ten feet away, half-buried under a mound of dirt and debris. His phone flashlight was still on, its beam aimed uselessly at the wall. His gun lay beside his hand.
“Oh God,” I whispered, scrambling to him.
I clawed at the dirt covering his chest and shoulder, pulling it away until I could see his face. He wasn’t moving. His eyes were closed, his skin pale beneath the grime.
“Aiden, come on.” My voice broke. I pressed my fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. It was there—faint, but steady. Relief hit so hard it made me dizzy. “You’re alive,” I whispered. “You’re fine. You’re fine.”
I kept digging until I freed his arm and shoulder. My hands shook so badly I could barely hold the phone steady. The light flickered, throwing long, broken shadows across the walls.
The slide behind us had sealed completely. The ceiling above sagged in places, clumps of dirt hanging loose like wet paper.
I tried to move one of the larger rocks pinning his leg, but it wouldn’t budge. “Come on,” I muttered, pushing harder. The stone shifted half an inch, then stopped. My fingers burned.
I sat back, panting, my chest tight. The air felt thinner down there.
Looking around, I frantically searched for a way out. The way we’d come was totally blocked. The tunnel ahead stretched forward into darkness, but the ground there sloped upward again. Maybe it led somewhere. Maybe not.
Had the leprechaun set off the explosion on purpose? Did he or she have more dynamite in that knapsack?
I shuddered and turned back to Aiden. He was still unconscious, his breathing shallow. I brushed dirt from his hair, leaving streaks of mud on his forehead. “Please wake up.” My throat ached so badly each word felt like a burn.
Somewhere deeper in the tunnel, water dripped, steady and slow. The sound was the only thing moving in the stillness.
I pulled my phone close, trying to check the signal. Nothing. No bars. No service. Just a faint, mocking icon of a battery that was almost gone.
Aiden’s lips were pale and dust clung to the stubble on his jaw. He looked too still. Too quiet.
I pressed my forehead to his arm. “You’re not dying down here. I’m not letting that happen.”
The tunnel groaned above me, a low grinding sound that made my stomach twist. Pebbles rained down. I flinched, then forced myself to stand. My legs shook but held.
The slide behind us was nothing but collapsed earth, packed tight. No digging through that. The only way left was forward.
I looked once more at Aiden. “I’ll find a way out,” I told him. “I’ll get help. Just stay alive.”
The air was getting colder. My light flickered again. I could see the faint shimmer of moisture on the walls, the dirt slick and dark. I took one last breath and started moving.
Every step sent small showers of dirt down from above. The tunnel curved slightly to the left, and the incline grew steeper. My hands brushed against the wall as I climbed, fingers sinking into the soft soil.
Behind me, the sound of settling earth deepened into something else—a low, long sigh from the collapsing shaft.
I looked back once, the light trembling in my grip. Aiden lay half-hidden in shadow, still and silent.
“Anna? Aiden?” Sheriff Franco yelled from the other side.
I crawled back to Aiden. “We’re in here. The tunnel collapsed,” I yelled, planting my hand on Aiden’s chest, my breath panting. He was breathing, but it was shallow. “Aiden is hurt.”
I glanced back at the tunnel. Where had the leprechaun gone? Then my gaze caught on dynamite stacked in the corner. “There’s dynamite in here, Sheriff.” It wasn’t attached to anything, but it looked old. Unstable. Dangerous.
“Everybody out,” Franco yelled. “How unstable is the area you’re in?”
I looked up to see boards barely holding rocks at bay. “Not stable at all, and we followed someone in a costume who might have more dynamite,” I called out.
Dust filtered around, and I coughed. “Hold on, Aiden.” I leaned over and kissed his dirty cheek before standing and hurrying down the tunnel again. A leprechaun hat caught my eye, and I kept going, coming to a circular area with a ladder.
Another one.
Grabbing on, I lugged up to another trap door, which I shoved open with my shoulder. Gasping, I hauled myself up and looked around, before standing in a small closet that held cleaning supplies.
