Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
I kept climbing down anyway.
He moved carefully, scanning the small chamber around him. The light caught old wooden beams, warped and splintered, wedged into the dirt like ribs in the earth. The air down there smelled damp, metallic, with a faint trace of something rotten underneath.
I reached the last rung and dropped beside him. My boots landed hard, and a small puff of dust spiraled up between us.
He turned, one brow arched. “I told you to stay upstairs.”
“You might need backup.” My voice came out tight.
He didn’t answer, just lifted his light again.
“What is this place?” I asked quietly.
“Could be an old mining shaft,” he said. “Or a tunnel from when the town first went up. Silverville’s got a lot of history buried under it.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I murmured, shocked to see a tunnel spinning off to the right. “How far do you think it goes?”
He moved forward, crouching near one of the beams. “No idea. The wood’s bad. Half-rotted.” He brushed a gloved hand across the wall, dirt crumbling away under his touch. “We shouldn’t be down here long.”
I crouched too, peering past him. The tunnel ahead looked like a throat, narrow and dark, curving away into nothing. My phone flashlight shook in my hand, the light shaking as my pulse kicked faster.
He stood and looked back at me. “You armed?”
Darn it. “No. I stopped carrying after December.”
He didn’t look surprised. “That’s good. But stay here.”
I clicked off the flashlight and turned the phone in my hand. “I’m calling the sheriff.”
Aiden nodded once.
Franco answered on the second ring, his voice sharp and distracted. Revelry sounded around him. “This better be good.”
“It is,” I said. “I saw someone in a leprechaun costume that matched Nana’s, and we followed him or her to a tunnel system beneath the carousel in the park. Aiden and I are down here now.”
There was a pause, then a low curse. “You’re what?”
“Did you know this was here?” I asked.
“A tunnel system? No.” Movement sounded. “I’m headed your way with backup.”
I ended the call, flicking my phone into flashlight mode.
Aiden turned to me, gaze steady. “Stay here.” He didn’t wait for an argument. He adjusted his grip on his phone, raised the gun, and started down the tunnel. The light from his phone grew smaller with every step until it disappeared around the bend.
I stood there for maybe five seconds before I went after him.
The air got colder as I moved deeper. The walls pressed close, rough and uneven. My phone light caught pieces of old wood and jagged stone. The tunnel angled downward, sloping into the earth. The entire area smelled of wet clay and rusted metal.
I followed the faint scuff marks his boots had left in the dirt.
“Aiden?” I called softly.
No response.
The tunnel turned sharply right. I paused and lifted my light. The beam caught nothing but more dirt, more dark. The ground trembled faintly under my boots, a slow vibration that made the fine dust drift from the ceiling.
Then it came again. Stronger.
“Aiden,” I hissed.
An explosion tore through the silence, rumbling all around me.
The world erupted. A shockwave hit me hard enough to throw me backward. My shoulder slammed into the wall, the breath ripped out of my lungs. The light from my phone spun crazily before it went black.
The noise was deafening, a roar that filled every part of me. The ground split beneath my feet. Dirt and stone rained from above, striking my arms and back. I could taste dust, grit grinding against my teeth.
“Aiden,” I shouted again, but the sound was swallowed by the collapse.
I tried to move forward, but the floor shifted beneath me. The ground wasn’t solid anymore. It kept moving.
My knees wobbled and I dropped.
I lay there for a second, coughing, my ears ringing. The air was thick with dust and smoke, the smell of burnt earth sharp in my nose. Slowly, I forced myself up. My palms stung, my head throbbed, and something warm trickled down the side of my face. Blood, probably.
“Aiden,” I croaked out “Answer me.”
Nothing broke the silence except the faint creak of settling dirt. Then a dripping sound slowly echoed throughout.
I crawled toward a faint glow up ahead. My phone, somehow still on, its cracked screen flickering weakly. I grabbed it and turned the light toward the tunnel ahead.
That’s when I saw him.
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.”