59
Agony surged through Cash as she swam back into consciousness. Opening her eyes, she was blinded by swirling dust and sand and closed them again. Her ears were ringing. She inhaled a mouthful of choking dust. The air smelled burnt. All around her, there was a pattering sound, a hard rain of gravel and debris. What the hell had happened? The events of the past few moments returned in force—the suffocation, the shot, the explosion.
Her eyes felt gritty and were watering like crazy. She tried to raise her head and was felled by a blinding headache. She lay there, trying to gather her thoughts. And now she felt a cool eddy of air drifting over her, clearing the dust. She breathed deeply, hungrily. Her vision began to clear. She raised her head again. The air was clearing, and she saw a dim glow of light, faint, hovering in the distance above.
Cash breathed again, and again, her mind finally sharpening. “Colcord?” she was able to whisper hoarsely. Then louder: “Colcord?” She could hardly hear herself, with the ringing in her ears.
She thought she heard a pained groan coming from her right.
She reached out in the direction of the sound and encountered the fabric of his uniform. She grasped at it with shaking fingers. “Colcord!” She jerked on the fabric.
He mumbled something again.
“What… happened?” she asked.
His voice brought a wave of relief to her. “I got the monk”—hegasped—“to fire his rifle. It… lit up that methane like a bomb… blew them to kingdom come.”
“It blew us up too.”
“We’re alive, aren’t we?”
Cash tried to sit up, her head swimming with the effort and forcing her to lie down again. Her arm was useless, and she’d lost a lot of blood. She could still hear gravel and rocks falling around them. They were not out of trouble. Her flashlight, now dead, lay half buried in the sand some distance away.
Strangely, however, there was a fresh, steady river of cool air carrying the scent of the forest flowing past her. A dim gray light now filled the tunnel. Where the monk and priest had been, the ceiling had caved in, creating a gaping hole, which was where the light was now coming from. Colcord looked a fright—lying on his side, entirely covered with dust, pale as a ghost, only his blinking bloodshot eyes gleaming from the powdery coat. Some of it was mixed with blood from his head. The wound had opened up again.
“You look like shit,” she said. “Are you able to walk?”
“Gee, thanks.” He tried to stand up, winced as he struggled to get to his knees, and sank back. “Give me a moment,” he said, breathing hard while lying on his back.
The falling of debris from the ceiling continued, and she wondered if they even had a moment. She peered into the murk, trying to see what had happened to their two pursuers. To her horror, through the dust and falling pebbles, a figure began to emerge, holding a light. Colcord saw it too. It was too small to be the monk. Had the priest survived? Cash felt a wrenching twist in her gut—the priest had somehow survived and was coming to finish them off. She struggled to rise, but again, her head went to spinning so much she couldn’t get up.
“Bastard,” said Colcord to the figure as it loomed over them.
“Good heavens,” the man said in a sonorous voice. “Sheriff Colcord, Agent Cash! Thank God you’re alive!”
Cash stared in disbelief: It was Father Moore. Was he also a member of Devotio?
The priest rushed over and knelt beside her, gently lifting her into a sitting position.
“Don’t touch me,” she managed to gasp.
“I’m so terribly sorry this has happened. I had no idea what Brother Gregory was up to.” He looked into her face, his eyes full of concern, “I’m here to help. We need to get out of here—the tunnel could collapse at any moment.”
“Are you with them?” Colcord asked.
“Heavens, no!” said Moore. “Hurry, we need to get moving. I’ll be happy to answer all your questions as soon as you’re both safe.”
Cash’s head began to clear somewhat, and Moore helped her to her feet, supporting her as she swayed.
As if on cue, a large rock detached from the gaping hole in the roof and fell with a crash and shudder, along with a shower of cobbles. The grinding sound of shifting rock was almost continuous.
Colcord staggered to his feet, breathing hard, before groaning and sinking back down on one knee.
“You need to help him,” said Cash. “His foot is crushed.”
Moore rushed over and raised Colcord to his feet.
“Both of you, lean on me and we’ll make it out of here together.”
