Authors: Jo Goodman
Happy brought the wagon to a halt just outside the adit of the same mine Michael had visited with Houston. "You take her on in," he said. "I'll bring the trunk."
Ethan had to wait at the entrance for Happy to bring a lantern then he followed the older man inside. Happy led him to where the tunnel branched in different directions. Ethan set Michael on her feet and let her lean heavily against him. She was shivering but Ethan suspected it was more in response to the cold than from any awareness of danger. Her eyes were dark and unfocused, her limbs weak.
Happy raised the lantern to look at the three tunnels available to him. "Which one leads to the deepest shaft?" he asked, poking his head inside the entrance to the first tunnel.
"You're looking at it." Ethan's hand dropped casually to his gun. "Be careful, Happy. A dozen or so steps in that direction and you'll be falling down it." With Happy's attention occupied, Ethan took his gun from the holster and held it by the barrel. "You satisfied that no one's going to find her body accidentally?" Ethan inched forward, pulling Michael with him. He raised the butt of his Colt.
"Can't see how they could," Happy said. He lowered the lantern and began to turn toward Ethan in the same motion. The butt of Ethan's gun caught him at the base of his skull and he dropped to his knees instantly. The lantern fell out of Happy's hand as he lost consciousness. The light flickered and went out.
Ethan placed his Colt back into the holster and swung Michael in his arms. She whimpered like a small, wounded animal. "It'll be all right," he said against her ear. "I'll make this all right." He turned toward the entrance. The tunnel was relentlessly dark, so much so that beyond the entrance the night sky seemed more blue than black. Even without the lantern Ethan was able to make his way unerringly toward the outside.
He was standing on the threshold when they appeared. Ben, Jake, and Houston were waiting for him. They blocked his escape. With Michael in his arms it was impossible to go for his gun.
"I lose," Houston said calmly as Ben struck a match. The flame briefly illuminated his features. The harsh light softened when Ben put the match to the lantern he carried. "I told the others you wouldn't chose her over us. Seems I was wrong. You cost me quite a bit. Suppose I won't get any part of your take from the last robbery."
"I guess that means I don't get my cut," Ethan said.
Houston grinned at Ethan's unruffled tones. "Never doubted that you were a bright one. Best blaster we've ever had." He saw Ethan was having difficulty holding Michael. "Jake, get his gun." When that was done he indicated that Ethan could lower Michael. Houston drew his .45 and leveled the barrel at Ethan's chest. "You'll have to go back the way you came. Take Michael with you. Ben, you can go on ahead a little with the lantern and see to your brother. Jake, start setting the charges."
Ethan wrapped his arm around Michael's waist and supported with his hip. Her head lolled against his shoulder. "Happy's going to have a headache," he said. "Nothing else. I didn't kill him."
"Didn't think you would. That's why Happy was willing to risk it. Except for that incident with that Drew fella, Happy said you were pretty reluctant to kill. Went out of your way, he said, to avoid it. You know Happy. He gets an idea and then he's hell bent on proving it."
"You were all certain I'd do this," said Ethan.
"I wasn't," said Houston. "Like I said, I believed in you. Damn shame. I hate to be wrong. But I've been that twice. About you. About her. I liked Michael. You know I did. I wasn't even willing to believe Dee when she said there was something not quite right. In the end I couldn't ignore the evidence of my own eyes. Michael's a reporter. She would have turned us all in sooner or later. The problems we had at the last robbery prove she was prepared to do it sooner."
"That wasn't Michael," Ethan said. "Look at her, Houston. She can barely stand. This is how Dee kept her the entire time we were gone. Michael was no more able to talk to anyone than a baby. I'm telling you, it was Cooper who set us up. If I didn't believe that I wouldn't have tried to help Michael get away. Do you really think I'd let her write anything about us?"
Houston kept urging Ethan and Michael deeper into the mine with little prompting motions of his gun. "It doesn't matter what I think anymore," he said.
"I'm letting the others make the decisions where you're concerned. Majority rule, remember? They don't trust you. I don't see how I can." His black eyes darted to Ben. "How's Happy? Do you need help?"
"He'll be all right," Ben said. "Like Ethan said. I can get him out myself." He set the lantern firmly on the ground and with some effort managed to lift his brother over his shoulder. "I'll be back to get the lantern as soon as I put Happy in the wagon."
Houston nodded. "See how Jake's coming with the explosives." He gave his full attention back to Ethan. "I suppose it's too much to expect you to set the charges."
"If it's your plan to bury us in here, then it's too much to expect."
"Too bad. You're the expert at this sort of thing. Jake's liable to blow off his fingers."
"That
would
be a shame," Ethan said coolly.
Houston found himself smiling. "I'm going to miss you, Ethan."
Ethan shrugged. He lowered Michael to the ground and let her lean back against one of the supporting wooden beams. She was still shivering. After a questioning look at Houston for approval, Ethan took off his coat and tucked it around her shoulders.
"Almost finished," Jake called from the entrance.
The shout distracted Houston momentarily. Ethan took the only opportunity he had. He leaped.
They were evenly matched in size and strength. The gun was Houston's edge until Ethan managed to deliver a blow to Houston's wrist and dislodge his grip on the weapon. It fell to the ground and was kicked out of the way as they fought. Ethan scrambled for it once, throwing his body at the Colt, knowing he had no chance without it. Houston hauled him back, catching him in the midsection with a powerful punch. Stumbling backward, Ethan pulled Houston with him. They toppled together, rolling across the cold, hard ground. Their hats were pushed away. Ethan's fingers tangled in Houston's hair. He was able to hold Houston's head steady long enough to deliver a bone jarring blow to his chin. Stunned, Houston's grip relaxed and Ethan went for the gun again. There was a shout behind him. He recognized the voice as Jake's but he had to ignore it. The gun was everything.
His fingers were within inches of closing around the maple butt when he was struck from behind. Starbursts of pure white light flickered in front of his eyes and he thought he heard himself groan. Then he saw nothing, heard nothing. It was over. He had lost.
Ethan tasted dust in his mouth, grit on the inner side of his lips. He breathed it in, choked. He coughed weakly. The pressure inside his head was intense. Pain was not isolated in any particular place. He felt it everywhere, most sharply at the crown of his head.
He opened his eyes. He couldn't see anything. At first he thought he was blind. Then he remembered the mine, the fight, Houston's plan to bury him alive. He wished he were already dead. It would have been less painful. He slept.
* * *
It was the insistent whisper touch across his cheek that woke him. He thought it was a spider and tried to brush it away. It returned. He ducked his head, trying to avoid it. The movement sent a rush of pain to his head. There was a ringing in his ears. He groaned.
"Ethan?" Michael said. "Ethan? Are you awake?"
Everything was black when he opened his eyes. This time he did not think he was blind. He knew that his eyes would never adjust to the sort of relentless darkness he was experiencing now. Light was required for vision and there was not even a sliver of it in the mine. The blackness was total.
The gentle sweep of fingers across his cheek stopped. He heard his name again. By slow degrees he became aware of other things. He was lying on his side, his head cushioned against the softness of Michael's lap. One of his hands rested on her knee, the other was tucked awkwardly under him. His left shoulder was numb. The coat that he had given to Michael earlier was wrapped around him now. If she was cold he couldn't tell. He was the one shaking.
"Michael?" he said softly. He heard her sob once at the sound of her name, then she was leaning forward and her mouth found his forehead, his temple. She kissed his hair. He felt her tears on his skin. "It's all right, Michael. God knows why I'm alive, but I am."
Michael sucked back her sobs and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Don't you die on me, Ethan. I'd never forgive you for that. I'll harangue you in eternity. Follow you to hell if I have to."
He searched out her hand, found it, and squeezed. "That's all the reason I need to stay alive." He sensed, rather than saw, her watery smile. "How long have we been here?"
"I don't know. Several hours I think. It's impossible to judge time."
"What happened after Jake knocked me out?"
"Oh, you remember that. I didn't know if you would."
"It's hard not to. I've got a lump the size of Pike's Peak on the back of my head." He brought her hand up to feel it. "Careful."
Her fingers explored gently. "Jake didn't hold back. So much of what I remember is fuzzy, but that was quite clear to me. I tried to reach you but it was useless. I had a sense of what was happening and no ability to stop it. I could barely move my arms and legs then. Houston got to his feet, brushed himself off, and thanked Jake for his help."
"Did he pick up his gun?" Ethan thought there might be some use for it, even if they could do nothing but fire off a few rounds to alert someone to their existence.
She nodded, realized he couldn't see that sort of reply, and answered. "Yes. Houston got his gun. I thought they might kill us then but they ignored both of us. I didn't understand their intentions."
Ethan checked his disappointment about the gun to protect Michael from the hopelessness he felt. "You didn't realize Jake was planting explosives?"
"I heard them talking about it but I couldn't make sense of what they were doing. There was no warning. It just happened. I didn't really see anything. The ground rocked and the support beams in here shuddered. Some of them collapsed. The roar was deafening and the smoke and dust was thick enough to taste. For a moment I couldn't breathe. It was as if all the air had been sucked out with the force of the explosion."
"You probably didn't imagine that. It could have happened for an instant."
"I was unconscious for a while. I know that." She hesitated. "Are we going to suffocate in here?"
"No. There's plenty of air." For now, he added silently.
"What are we going to do, Ethan?"
"I don't know." He struggled to a sitting position. "I must have wrenched my shoulder fighting with Houston."
"You might have," she said. "But I don't think so. You were half-buried by debris during the explosion. I had to move a beam off your shoulder."
"How the hell did you do that?"
"I'm not sure. It took me time to find you in the dark. I was on my hands and knees sweeping the ground, looking for you. Your legs weren't covered. I found them first and I was able to get rid of the rocks fairly easily. Then I came across the beam. I couldn't move it. I sat there, feeling sorry for myself and you. I worked myself up into a fine state of anger, I can tell you. Oh, Ethan, what you could have done with a cake of soap." She smiled when she heard his low chuckle. "I don't know what came over me then. I attacked that beam and it came away with all the difficulty of a toothpick. I was so surprised I almost dropped it."
Ethan winced as he imagined the pain and damage that would have caused him. "Thank God you didn't. I think my shoulder's dislocated. Can you help me?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Take my arm." It took them a moment to find each other. "Use both your hands, Michael. That's it. Firm around my wrist. Don't let go until I tell you. Better yet, don't let go until my shoulder's back in place."
"How will I know?"
"You'll hear it."
"Oh, God." She released his wrist immediately. "I don't think I can—"
"Don't you dare quit on me now." He felt her fingers close around his wrist again. "Good. Now hang on." Ethan used his free hand to direct the movement of his shoulder and arm bone. He yanked hard, glad Michael couldn't see his painful grimace, and pushed the ball joint into his shoulder socket.
Michael heard the sound and let go. "Ethan? Are you all right?"
He grunted softly. "Give me a minute." He imagined the corners of his mouth were taut and white with strain. Gradually the radiating pain disappeared and left only a mild throbbing. "I'm fine." He leaned against her and rested his head on the rock behind them, catching his breath from the sudden exertion. "We need to take stock of our situation, Michael. I'd like to believe it's only been a few hours since Houston and the others buried us in here, but I have a feeling it's been a lot longer."
"How can you know?"
"You. The drugs Dee gave you have finally worn off. That couldn't have happened quickly. You said yourself you were unconscious after the explosion. You have no way of knowing how long that was. It could be daylight outside now."