Page 170

Jodie took one step and nearly went down. Her ankle protested first, a sharp reminder that it had never completely forgiven her for the hike, but her head was worse. Every footfall slammed her brain against the inside of her skull. Coughing was worse. She shortened her stride and concentrated on keeping the horizon where it belonged and the fire at a distance.

Just walk.

The cellar couldn’t be more than a few minutes away.

Probably. Distances look different when you’re dizzy, coughing, and trying not to think about the truck burning behind you.

Goblin came back and pressed against her leg. Jodie rested one hand lightly on his head to steady herself, though he was hardly built to be a service animal.

“Sorry, buddy.”

He stayed close to her anyway. They started walking again.

They made it past the fire and back to the two-track. Her skin was so hot now. Smoke poured across the road in waves. She could see the stone chimney now, rising like a marker somebody had planted there just for her. It disappeared every few seconds before the wind tore an opening through the haze again. The bandana over her mouth and nose helped a little, but not enough. It was already drying out from the heat. She coughed until pain stabbed through her skull and she had to stop with both hands braced on her knees. Goblin coughed and sneezed right along with her. Her eyes streamed, turning the landscape wavy, like it was underwater.

Or was it mirages from the heat?

The fire crackled too close behind her.

Keep moving.

Jodie straightened and forced herself forward toward the chimney. Goblin ranged a few yards ahead and came back again, checking that she was still following. Jodie stumbled over a rut and caught herself before she fell.

“Still here.” Her voice shook.

Mac knows where I was going.

She held onto that.

Maybe Kyle had checked the board. Maybe Willow had noticed she hadn’t come back. Maybe someone had heard part of her radio call.

Maybe.

Don’t build your whole life on maybe or it’s not gonna last that long.

Fine.

She didn’t need maybe right now. She needed the cellar.

The broken wall emerged through the smoke, then the sickly lilac.

Where’s the cellar? She searched the ground.

Jodie almost cried when she saw it. The cellar was half hidden behind the remains of the wall, the low stone opening sunk into the ground exactly as she remembered. She stumbled toward it too quickly because the earth kept shifting under her feet. She fell to her knees. From there she crawled. Goblin stayed close enough that his shoulder brushed her every few steps.

“Almost there, buddy.”

The old double doors lay closed over the opening, weathered wood reinforced with rusted metal straps. Jodie tried to stand beside it and immediately regretted the movement when pain ripped through her head. She closed her eyes until the nausea backed off, then wrapped both hands around the iron handle and pulled.

Nothing.

“Oh, come on.”

She planted one boot against the stone and pulled harder. For one terrifying second, the door still didn’t move. Then something underneath gave with a gritty scrape and the wood lifted several inches.

Cool air breathed out from below. Jodie could have kissed the damned door.

She dragged one of the doors farther open until she could see a narrow set of stone steps disappearing into darkness. The cellar walls were still standing and the roof appeared intact. Right now, that was enough.