Every Breath You Take

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CHAPTER FOUR

Utterly useless. That was how Sable felt as she watched several men set up a large tent on the grass behind the Carrington mansion. Monica, as organized as ever, had already thought to deal with the security issues even as she’d arranged for a catering service that usually handled film productions as well as various other amenities. In short, she had everything well under control and didn’t need anyone stepping in and fouling up the works. It didn’t help that the easy closeness they’d long enjoyed had been severely dented by her Monica’s discovery that Jason wasn’t her father and Sable was pregnant. Forgiveness would undoubtedly come, but it hadn’t yet.

Which meant there was really nothing for Sable to do short of taking up a shovel, an unrealistic idea at best. Maybe she should just head back to the hospital.

Where she could wait around uselessly just like at the house. Lovely. Just what she needed, more quiet time to think about things she’d just as soon not think about. She was still musing on the ironies of life when a small figured darted into view, drawing her attention. Several tables had been set up and assorted spare flashlights, headlights and helmets were strewn across them, and he glanced over one shoulder, then snuck up to the nearest one. It was Jeff and Fallon’s son, she abruptly realized. As she watched, he grabbed a flashlight off one of the tables and hurried away.

Having raised three children of her own, she easily recognized all the signs of a child up to something. She considered getting Jeff, but he had enough problems of his own right now. And besides, it wasn’t like she was needed anywhere else. If nothing else, maybe she could help out with a little babysitting.

Deciding that caution was the better part of valor, she grabbed a flashlight nearly as large as her forearm as she hurried past the table, nearly jogging to keep the boy in sight. Thankfully she’d taken the time to stop off and change into slacks and track shoes on the way to the house.

Avoiding the bright lights and concentrations of workmen, the boy skirted around the tents, then slipped off into the darkness. Sable lost sight of him and was considering going back after help when she spotted him in front of what looked to be a storage shed of some kind. Battered and leaning faintly to one side, it butted up against a low lying upthrust of granite and looked to date back to the early days of the mansion. Pausing only momentarily, the boy grabbed a shovel that was braced against the wall, then ducked inside through a side door that had long since weathered to grey.

The hair on her arms stood on end while her skin prickled as it struck her what he was trying to do. The poor kid was trying to dig his mother out on his own—probably a safe enough endeavor since the shed looked to be well away from the unstable area, but still not something she suspected Jeff had any intention of allowing. Slipping through the same door, she blinked against the bare light. "Hello?"

No answer.

She took a step forward, then immediately cursed as she cracked her shin on something low lying and sharp edged. A wood crate of some kind, she realized as she flicked the flashlight downward. Judging by the dust patterns in the floor, it had been dragged there recently. More crates and random boxes dominated the rest of the room along with various building supplies, stocks of old tile and wallpaper, and god only knew what else. The mansion had to date back to at least the 20s and by the look of it, so did most of what she was looking at. Probably left over materials from the mansion’s building, shoved away and forgotten. No real surprise. As large as the property was, there might well be hundreds of long forgotten storage areas.

She flashed her light around, hunting for some sign of the boy. Nothing. Which made no sense, since there didn’t appear to be any other doors. "Hello?" she called out again.

Still no answer.

There were at least a dozen possible hiding places among the stacks and crates, she realized as she ran her light into the crooks and crannies. The search took longer than she would have liked—the shed was littered with junk---but she didn’t spot anything like the shape made by a small boy. However, most of the boards on the rear wall of the cabin had rotted away, revealing the rough granite backdrop that sat behind the shed, and as she peered more closely at the remains of the rear wall, she realized something wasn’t right. There was a crack in the rocks. Partially hidden behind a stack of old doors, it was so shadowed that no one who wasn’t looking for it would have seen it. Perhaps five feet high and a foot and a half wide, it didn’t appear to be an intentional passageway, but rather formed by rock slippage over time. Leaning forward, she shined her light into the pitch black space and realized the narrow passage dropped down into a wider tunnel, and this one did appear to have been intentionally carved. She quickly spotted small footprints in the thick dust.

No question in her mind where L.B. had gone. Which left her with the mental debate over whether to get help or go after him herself. Getting help would be the prudent thing to do, but that would probably take any number of professionals away from the search for Krystina and Fallon. Considering the danger they were in, that seemed like a poor choice at best. Besides, she was only a minute or two behind him. The boy couldn’t have gotten far, and if she took the time to get someone, god only knew how far down those tunnels he’d be.

Which left her with little choice. She had to go after him on her own. "Bloody hell," she muttered under her breath, seriously doubting her sanity, but determined nonetheless. The space was tight, but she slipped through with a couple of inches to spare, then dropped down into the corridor. The walls were rough hewn, and quickly angled downward. After a short distance she found herself at the top of a steep set of stairs that seemed to lead down into nothingness, very intimidating nothingness. A shiver of unease slid down her spine, but she hurried after the boy, and some distance later, the staircase merged into a frighteningly dark tunnel that seemed to lead on forever.

"Hello," Sable called out, struggling to remember what everyone called the boy. His name was Blake, but that wasn’t what anyone used. "L.B.?" she called out as it came to her.

Nothing.

Her flashlight seeming very small and weak against the darkness, she continued forward, her sense of time and distance seeming to grow weaker with every step. "L.B. Colby." Her voice bounced strangely off the corridor walls, the sound seeming to dampen and go nowhere almost instantly. She was just considering that it might be time to go get someone else—maybe Jeff or one of the workers—when a crash echoed through the tunnel, followed by a child’s, high pitched cry.

She didn’t pause to think about what she was doing, just took off running. "L.B.!" she shouted, "Are you all right?!" No reply, but for all she knew Jeff had convinced the boy she was the bogeyman brought to life, so maybe he wouldn’t respond to her. One foot hit a particularly rough patch in the uneven floor and she cursed as she had to scramble to keep from doing a header into the wall that seemed to suddenly appear in front of her.

As she regained her balance, she realized the corridor made a sharp, right angle turn. Around the corner, the floor was uneven and strewn with rocky debris. A quick flick of the flashlight confirmed that the walls and ceiling had seen better days. Wonderful.

Staring at the debris strewn corridor, she ran the flashlight beam over the sharp jags of rock, nearly screaming when one moved.

And suddenly she was running, careless of the danger presented by the slick stairs or the lack of handholds as she hurried to the small, dust covered figure. He was sitting with his back against the wall, head down, clutching his left arm tightly against his body. "L.B.?" she whispered as she knelt down, tucked a finger under his chin and drew his head up.

His eyes were wide and scared as he nodded yes to her question. "Y-you’re my dad’s aunt, right?" he questioned. "The one he hates."

Her shoulders dipping in a shrug, Sable nodded. "We’re not exactly friends," she allowed as she knelt down in front of him. "But despite that, you and I are family of a sort...and I’m very protective of my family," she told him, hoping that would ease any fears. "I saw you come down here...Does you’re father know what you’re up to?" she questioned, certain Jeff had no idea, but wanting to give the child a chance to confess on his own.

He flinched, and she could almost see the thoughts running through his brain as he hunted for a lie she might believe.

"The truth," she prompted before he could say a word.

"No," he admitted after a long moment of internal. "Are you gonna tell him?"

"I rather suspect that’s going to be necessary," she told him as she shifted her focus to the arm he had cradled against his chest. "Now let’s see what you’ve done to yourself?"

"I hurt my wrist," he said as he held it out for her inspection. He nodded to indicate a rock pile a few feet away. "I was tryin’ to pry the rocks out of the way...and they all came down...and I fell...."

Which just about matched the scenario she assembled in her head as she looked over his injury, then ran her light over the piled rubble. Several feet high, it ran the entire width of the corridor. His shovel was still lodged into the mess between several huge stones while his flashlight was little more than a dull glow showing through a layer of dust at the bottom of the heap. All things considered, he was lucky he hadn’t pulled it down on his own head. "Dear Lord, child, why would you do something so assinine?" she growled, appalled that he’d taken such a risk.

"I had to," L.B. shot back, his voice breaking, "for mom and Krystina. They’re down here and I’ve gotta find ‘em."

His tear choked voice pulled Sable’s momentary temper up short. He was just a child, she reminded herself. He didn’t understand the risk he’d taken. "I know you want to help," she soothed, "but you’ve got to let the adults take of this...wandering around in these old tunnels is much too dangerous...and they’re not even the right tunnels," she pointed out logically.

"But I have to," the boy insisted.

"I understand you’re frightened for them, but—"

"No, you don’t understand," the boy broke in. "They’ll never find them there." He shook his head, his chin falling to his chest. "It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t shown Krystina the fort, none of this woulda happened."

Pulled up short by his confession, Sable froze, barely even breathing as she whispered, "What do you mean?"

L.B. shivered violently and looked up at her again. "Danny and I found it...and then we showed Krystina." He shook his head, his eyes glittering with tears in sharp flashlight beam. "Then we found the tunnels...and the stuff."

"Oh, dear god," Sable exhaled as the truth sank in. Twisting, she stared over her shoulder at the stacked debris. "Stuff? Things like paintings and sculpture?"

"Yeah," the boy answered in a very small voice.

"Oh god," the woman breathed as she realized the truth. The rescuers were looking in the wrong place. She turned back to the child.

"I tried to tell my dad," the boy swore when he saw the look on her face. "But he wouldn’t listen. He was gonna send me to Delta Rho—"

"Shhhh," Sable hushed gently. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then dropped a hand to the child’s arm. It was badly swollen and probably hurt like hell, but there was no blood. Nothing to stop him getting out under his own power, even if he had to climb in a place or two. "We need to tell your father about this and get a work crew down here—"

"But I tried to tell him," L.B. insisted, " and he wouldn’t listen."

"Oh, he’ll listen," Sable promised, then stood and reached down to pull the child to his feet. "If I have to beat him over the head with a baseball bat, he’ll—"

She was cut off by a child’s scream—faint with distance, but distinct nonetheless. Sable’s head snapped up, her eyes going wide. "Krystina." She heard L.B. start to move and snapped a hand out, catching the back of his shirt to keep him right where he was. "No," she clipped sharply. She didn’t like any of the choices available, but clearly the children had been playing in these corridors for quite some time, so she had to trust he could get out on his own. She dug his lost flashlight from under the dust and rubble and thrust it into his hands. "I know you’re hurting, but I need you to go back up and get your father—"

"But he wouldn’t listen to me before," the child insisted.

Resting a hand on a narrow shoulder, Sable stared at the boy with furious intensity. "You make him listen. You can do it, you have to." She glanced over her shoulder. "Because I’ve got to go after Krystina."

"But—" L.B. began, but Sable cut him off.

"You can do this," she insisted. "For your mother and Krystina." More distant sounds echoed off the walls, drawing her head back up. "But I’ve got to go now, and so do you."

He nodded. "I’ll get dad...I swear...I’ll get him."

A second later, the child was on his way, while Sable spun toward the sounds she’d heard. Only a few seconds had passed since hearing the scream, but it felt like she’d wasted hours.

The way nearly blocked by mounded rubbled, she was forced to climb. Larger stones were covered in a deep layer of shale and gravel sized stones that slipped and rolled under her feet so that she seemed to backslide nearly as far as she’d come with every step. Finally, she got high enough to grab a ledge near the ceiling and used that to lever herself up until she could scramble through the narrow opening at the top. Tumbling down the other side in an only slightly controlled slide, she finally came to a halt at the bottom to find still more stairs.

"Krystina!" Afraid of the fragility of the surrounding rock, Sable didn’t call out as loudly as she might have otherwise.

No answer.

Stumbling to her feet, she followed the tunnel down several more feet, then found herself on a broad landing that overlooked a broad, rough hewn chamber littered with fallen debris. Sable could see the shattered remains of wood supports among the broken granite that littered the floor and piled high against the walls. As she ran her light over the mess in search of a small figure, she shivered as she saw several shapes that might have been wood crates once upon a time, but now were simply splintered kindling. Dear God, if Krystina and Fallon had been under the hail of stones that could do that....

Sable couldn’t finish the thought. "Krystina," she called out as she hurried down the short flight of stairs to the chamber floor, nearly stumbling on the uneven surface. Her knee cracked into a sharp edged upthrust of stone, drawing a muttered curse, but she ignored the pain and continued forward.

The cry had definitely been from this direction and she doubted it could have carried very far. Krystina had to be somewhere close. She flashed her light over the cracked and pitted walls, then over the floor, pausing more than once when an oddly shaped boulder briefly fooled her.

Nothing.

"Krystina." Ignoring the claustrophobic sense that the darkness was closing in on her, she made her way to the opposite end of the room where it narrowed into another tunnel so tumbled-in it was nearly impassable. Scrambling over sharp slabs of rock, she cursed softly with every slip and misgauged step that added a new cut or bruise to her rapidly growing collection.

With another bend only a few feet ahead, Sable called out again, then paused for the briefest moment. She was just starting to take a step forward when she heard something—a faint shuffling sound followed by a rattle of small stones falling.

"Krystina," Sable’s voice trailed off and she muttered a prayer under her breath even as a shiver of unease slid down her spine. In her headlong rush she’d nearly forgotten that Krystina and Fallon weren’t the only ones who’d been trapped in the cave-in. Dennis Grimes was likely down here as well. Fighting the impulse to panic, she stood stock still, listening carefully. There was definitely something ahead of her. "Krystina?" she said again, her voice much softer this time.

She was seriously considering running for it when a tiny face suddenly peered around the corner. "Aunt Sable?"

Gasping, Sable let out the breath she hadn’t even been aware of holding, her legs suddenly rubbery. "Oh Krystina," she exhaled and slid to one knee, her hand outstretched to meet the child’s headlong rush into her arms. "Thank god," she whispered as she hugged the girl close.

"I was afraid you were the bad man," Krystina whimpered as she buried her face in Sable’s shoulder. "I thought I heard him—"

"Is that why you screamed before?" Sable asked, still cuddling the child close.

Krystina nodded. "Something touched me and I was afraid it was him."

A shudder slid down Sable’s spine, but she pushed the fear down even as she straightened, careful to keep one arm around the child while she used the other to run the flashlight beam over her small frame, hunting for any sign of serious injuries. "Are you hurt?"

Krystina shook her head. "But Fallon is. Some rocks hit her on the head, and then she didn’t move...I promised her I’d get help."

Her stomach sinking, Sable clung a little more tightly to the child. "And we will, I promise." She took a deep breath, calming herself. "I just need to get you out of here, and we can send the workmen down to get her."

Still safely ensconced in Sable’s arms, Krystina nodded to indicate the direction the woman had come from. "Is that the way out?"

Sable glanced over her shoulder and nodded. "Yes, love. L.B. showed me the tunnel...from the shed." Then another thought occurred to her as she realized that Krystina had been going the wrong direction. A mistake in the dark, or was there another way out—one that might be easier going than the way she’d come is. "Is that the only way in or out?"

Krystina shrugged. "Only one we ever found," she said as she looked back and forth with dawning realizatioin. "I was going the wrong way, wasn’t I?"

"Yes," Sable admitted, then caught the child’s hand as she rose, uncomfortably aware of just how vulnerable they were. Pity there wasn’t another way out. "Time to be going."

"No," Krystina snapped and broke free of Sable’s loose hold. "We have to get Fallon first."

Sable made a grab for the girl, but she danced just out of reach.

"We have to get Fallon," Krystina repeated, and then suddenly she spun and was moving surprisingly quickly over the craggy floor.

"Dammit, Krystina, come back here," Sable shouted after the girl as she tried to follow. Far less sure footed, she was several seconds back so that by the time she reached the main room, Krystina was feeling her way along one wall. "What are you—"

"It’s here somewhere," the child insisted without looking up.

Running the flashlight beam along the wall, Sable tried to get some idea what the girl was searching for, but the added light offered no clues. As she moved forward, a few small stones trickled down on her and she cast a nervous glance ceilingward. If Grimes didn’t get them, another cave-in well might. "We have to go now," she said nervously. "The workmen can shore things up and get Fallon out much more easily than you and I."

"No," Krystina insisted as she continued her frantic hunt for her older sister.

Finally catching up with the girl, Sable rested a hand on a narrow shoulder and was about to simply pick her up and carry her out when Krystina nearly shouted.

"This is it!" Small hands scrabbled along the surface of the wall, pushing stones this way and that. "More stuff musta fallen after I got out."

"Krystina...what...." And then Sable realized what the child was doing. There was a crack in the rock, and as she reached down and shoved aside a stone too heavy for the girl to move, she realized it was really a space between the wall and a boulder that had been part of the cave-in. Thrusting her hand in, she found a sizable depression in the wall. Enough for a body or two to get some protection from the falling stones. "This is where you hid during the cave-in?"

"Yeah," Krystina answered instantly. "Fallon’s still in there." Fear etched deep lines into her small face.

Rescuers would be in a better position if they knew whether they were after a live victim or recovering a body, so Sable pushed any squeamishness aside and thrust her arm into the narrow crack. Her coat sleeve caught on the rock, and she stripped it off, throwing it over the boulder before trying again. Better to go ahead and mark the spot for the rescuers anyway. Stones were digging into her shoulder when she finally encountered the softness of human flesh. "Fallon," she exhaled.

"Is she alive?" Krystina questioned, her voice trembling.

Searching blindly, Sable brailled the length of Fallon’s body. She was curled into a tight ball, her skin still warm and pliable, but it hadn’t been long enough for it to cool off or for rigor to have set in. "Oh please, Fallon," she begged almost inaudibly as she fumbled around the younger woman’s neck, hunting for some sign of a pulse. It took several tries, but finally she found it, thin and too fast, but distinct. Bracing both hands on the boulder, she tested the weight just enough to be absolutely certain she couldn’t move it. "She’s alive," she said as she rose to her feet, "but it’s going to take more than you and I to get her out." As she looked up, it abruptly occurred to Sable that Krystina was no longer standing next to her. "Krystina, I..." she began as she pivoted sharply, then the words trailed off and all color drained from her face as she realized where Krystina was.

Held tightly in a man’s arms, a hand smashed flat over her mouth, a large pistol of some sort pressed to her temple. Dennis Grimes presumably. He was cut to pieces and grimy with dust, but very much alive

Before Sable could do more than draw a breath, the hand with the pistol whipped out, slamming steel and knuckles into the side of her face with enough force to lift her off her feet. Momentarily airborne, she hit the ground hard, and the world went black for a moment or two. It faded back into existence along with pain so severe it was a struggle just to breathe. Her ribs felt like Godzilla had gotten in a kick or two, while sharp edged stones dug into her back, and even the tiniest motion made her think her jaw was probably broken and her nose with it.

"Sorry about that little introduction," Grimes began as he crouched down beside her, "but you need to understand exactly who’s in charge here."

"All right," Sable gasped as she tried to regain her bearings and clear her head. It was harder than hell with every nerve ending vibrating with pain while the taste of blood filled her mouth and a hot stream ran from her nose. "What do you want?" she groaned thickly.

He smiled ever so slightly, though the expression never reached his eyes. "You and the little princess here," he flashed a knowing look at Krystina that sent a shiver of horror down Sable’s spine. "Are gonna help me get outa this little mess...and if you do as you’re told, you don’t get hurt."

Gagging on blood, Sable rolled onto her one elbow and spat, then fought to drag air into her lungs. "All right," she croaked and rolled back to face him. "Just tell me what you need me to do."

He ran a leering gaze over her, assessing every inch. "I’m guessing you’ve got a nice, expensive car up there somewhere." He hugged the squirming little girl a little closer, grinning as he saw the way Sable tensed.

Dear god, what had he been in prison for, she wondered even as she answered his question. "Yes."

"Good," he murmured, "which means the three of us are just going to go up there calm as you please...and drive away."

"There are men coming—" she began, but he cut her off, his voice hard.

"No, I heard you tell princess here that you need to get the workmen." He chuckled softly, his eyes full of pure malice. "They’re lookin’ in the wrong spot, aren’t they?" When she didn’t immediately answer the mock humor fell away and he shoved the gun harder against the side of Krystina’s head. "Aren’t they?" he repeated.

"Yes," she admitted.

He smiled again. "Good girl. You keep telling me the truth like that, and you two might just get out of this alive." He nodded to indicate the stairs leading out. "Now let’s go."

"Why don’t you leave the girl behind," she suggested, certain he was lying about letting them go. "She’ll only slow you down and if anyone aboveground sees her, they’ll know something’s going on—"

"Lady, I ain’t stupid," he growled, "I know the kid’ll run straight to the cops if she gets a chance, so if she gets left behind it’s only cos I’ve already put a bullet in her. Now, move."

Her movements stiff, Sable scrambled to her feet, then retrieved her dropped flashlight. Her nose and split lip were still bleeding profusely, but a shirt sleeve helped sop up the worst of the blood.

"Good girl," Grimes praised, close enough now that she felt the heat of his breath on the back of her neck and the press of his body against her own. "Keep this up, and you’ll both be home safe in no time."

She didn’t believe him for a minute.

Badly dazed, she stumbled more than once on the uneven stairs and each time Grimes shoved her from behind, his voice harsh as he ordered, "Move."

When they reached the barrier crossing the corridor, Grimes pulled up short, cursing volubly. "What the hell?"

"I had to climb over it on the way in," Sable muttered.

Grimes cursed again, then slammed her shoulder almost hard enough to send her careening. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I was rather busy bleeding at the time," she ground out, "and besides, it’s the only way out."

"All right," he waved the gun to indicate the blockade. "You go first...and if you try to pull something or run, then princess gets a bullet between the eyes."

"Don’t worry," she snarled as she started forward. The climb was no easier the second time around and by the time she slipped through the narrow space at the top she was breathing hard, every muscle aching and on the verge of collapse. Twisting around, she dug in her heals to halt her slide and shined the light back into the open space. On the other side, Grimes was cursing, the sound of sliding rock and harsh breathing growing louder with every moment until finally he appeared at the top.

Her heart in her throat, Sable listened to him as she mentally hunted for some solution to the problem. She could only see one answer. Her borrowed flashlight was heavy steel, thicker than her wrist, and nearly as long as her forearm. In a pinch, it would make a hell of a club.

Grimes seemed momentarily uncertain how to proceed, but finally he slung Krystina over the mound and through the space with a noisy grunt, careless of whether or not he hurt her. Then he pushed up, obviously intending to follow. But off balance in the tight space, he was forced to either steady himself or slip back. As Sable watched, he dropped his right hand—the one with the gun—and used it to brace himself.

It was her chance, probably the only one they were likely to get. Lunging up and forward, Sable grabbed for Krystina with one hand, hauling her free and slinging her away with every last ounce of her strength even as she swung the flashlight with her other hand. The makeshift weapon slammed into Grimes’ knuckles with bone-shattering force, drawing a dull scream.

"Krsytina, RUN!" Sable roared as she hit Grimes’ hand again and sent the gun tumbling.

Grimes lunged, grabbing for her, but Sable pushed off and hit the floor on her backside just in time to stay out of reach. Hearing fast footsteps moving away, she could only pray that Krystina would keep running and never look back.

Howling the ugliest of threats, Grimes hurled himself through the narrow opening with almost inhuman strength.

If he caught her, she was dead. Rolling, Sable pushed to her feet. Behind her, the crash of small stones—Grimes coming after her---was a nerve shattering cacaphony, but she ignored it in the desperation to flee. Unfortunately, the ground under her feet shifted and gave way before she could gain any distance. She was already falling when Grimes tackled her from behind.

They hit the ground together, the collision enough to knock the air from her lungs, and make the sound of Grimes’ muttered insults and threats echo inside her head. She tried to hold onto the flashlight, but the impact knocked her makeshift weapon away, and doused the light at the same time, throwing them into total darkness.

Then Grimes reared up, one hand tangled in Sable’s hair, pinning her to the floor. "Hey, Princess," he shouted, "better come back or Aunty Sable’s dead...I’ll break her neck and it’ll be all your fault," he threatened.

"NO!" Sable yelled, the sound turning to a pained scream as he grabbed one arm and twisted it violently behind her back. She gasped, drew a breath, then shouted, "RUN, KRYSTINA!!"

"YOU DO, AND SHE’S DEAD!!" Grimes roared in a rage, then leaned down to hiss into his prisoner’s ear. "Tell her to come back.

"Go to hell," Sable ground out through tightly clenched teeth.

Grabbing her, he flipped her onto her back and she lashed out almost instantly, cracking her knuckles into his jaw.

"You’re gonna pay, bitch," Grimes snarled and grabbed for her hands. "BETTER COME BACK, KRYSTINA!!" he shouted. "GONNA BE KILLING HER IN A MOMENT!!"

"NO," the child shouted somewhere in the distance. "DON’T HURT HER!!"

"NO!!" Sable shrieked. Terrified the child meant to return, she went wild, bucking in an effort to throw him off as she slung wild punches.

Grunting every curse known to man, Grimes deliberately pressed down into her as he wrestled to contain her feral struggles.

Sable gagged on the stench of his hot breath playing over her face as his body ground into hers. She distantly heard him call to Krystina again, but she was in another time and place...fighting with another man. One whose hands had been just as rough and just as knowing. "You and me are gonna have a lot of fun together," he snarled near her ear, unknowingly echoing the words of another attacker years before. A strangled, animal sound escaping her lips as she blindly clawed at his face and fought to scrabble free of his weight.

Then suddenly her hand closed on something cold and heavy—the lost flashlight. Grabbing hold, she swung with all her might, but the position stripped the blow of most of its power. Still, it was enough to draw a bellow of pain and she cocked her arm back and swung again, driving Grimes to retreat.

"You’re gonna pay for that, bitch," Grimes snarled as he lunged at her again. "You and that little girl both. The last thing she sees is gonna be me on top of her."

No missing that threat. Fury driving her as much as fear, Sable swung blindly as he grabbed for her hand.

He missed.

She didn’t.

And this time, she was able to get a good angle on her swing. She’d spent much of her life as a lady of leisure, but those leisures had included fencing, swimming, horseback riding, and any number of other physical pursuits. She wasn’t anywhere near as strong as Grimes, but there was real muscle behind the blow, and he was already dazed from the first strike. Hard steel impacted his skull with an oddly satisfying crunch of bone, followed by a spate of obscenities and threats that only hardened her determination and added fury to her next swing. "You will never," she ground out as the flashlight crashed into the side of his face again. "Touch. That. Child." A final swing brought another crunch of bone and a hot spatter of something wet across her face. This time when she shoved him back, he went, stumbling clear before thudding to the floor somewhere near her feet.

Pushing to a crouch, she froze, her heart in her throat as she listened for anything that might indicate Grimes was moving or coming after her.

Dead silence.

The only sound was the harsh thud of her heartbeat and her ragged breathing. Afraid even those small sounds might give her position away if Grimes was still conscious, she slowly eased to her feet and back a step. With no light to give any sense of time or space, she had no idea how much time passed since the confrontation with Grimes. She was still standing perfectly still, just listening when she heard the tiniest of scuffing sounds some distance away. Redoubling her grip on her impromptu weapon, she turned toward the sound. "Who’s there?" she breathed, her voice a soft, sepulchral whisper.

A moment passed and then a tiny voice echoed off the walls. "Aunt Sable?"

Krystina.

Sable exhaled heavily, releasing a sharp ripple of tension. "Krystina, you stay right where you are," she called softly. One hand touching the wall, the other outstretched in search of a small figure, she carefully felt her way back up the stairs. Trapped in total darkness, each step was an agony of uncertainty, but finally the stairs led to a gently inclined corridor and a few steps later, she encountered a small, trembling figure. Dropping to one knee, Sable opened her arms to the child and was nearly bowled over as Krystina flung herself into her protective embrace. "Shhh, it’s all right," she soothed as the girl wrapped skinny arms tightly around her neck and clung desperately.

"The bad man?" Krystina sobbed near her ear.

Sharp ears pricked, listening once again for any sound of Dennis Grimes. "I hit him," she exhaled. "I don’t think..." she trailed off and was silent for a long moment, uncertain what to tell the child. Finally, she whispered, "I don’t think he’s after us anymore."

Krystina didn’t respond, but Sable thought that she was trembling a little less. It was clear, however, that she had no intention of letting go of her stranglehold on her savior’s neck. As battered as the woman was, the added weight threatened to be too much, but she wrapped an arm around the girl and pushed to her feet. "It’s okay," she offered what comfort she could. "We’re going to be all right."

Just put one foot in front of the other, she told herself, carefully ignoring the sense that the climb to the surface was a nearly insurmountable distance.

Her head down, muscles trembling with fatigue, she lost track of everything outside of the tiny circle of her own existence as she plodded forward. So much so that the sudden flash of light in her eyes as she rounded a sharp corner brought her head up sharply and she fell back, illogically afraid Grimes had somehow gotten in front of them.

"What the hell.... Sable?"

It took her an extra beat to recognize the voice as her nephew’s and when she did, she slumped against the wall in relief, the sudden burst of adrenaline leaving her weak in the knees. "Oh god, Jeff."

He leaned closer, one hand coming out to curve to her upper arm as he ran the light over her face. "What the hell happened?"

"Grimes," Sable groaned.

He curved a hand to the back of Krystina’s head, peering at her worriedly.

"I think she’s all right," Sable told him as she pressed her cheek against the girl’s head. "Just frightened. Grimes found both of us after I found her...and..." she paused, not knowing quite what to say. "It wasn’t pretty," she muttered at last, grateful that Jeff didn’t ask any further questions. "But we need to get a rescue crew," she continued, mentally switching gears in the quest to make him understand the situation. "Krystina showed me where Fallon is...it’s on down the tunnel...there’s a large room, and she’s hidden under a ledge, but she’s blocked in by a large rock...not easy to find." She realized she was babbling and probably not making a lot of sense, but she had to hope he’d understand. "I marked it with my jacket. She was unconscious, but I definitely felt a pulse." She saw Jeff reach down and suddenly realized there was a small, wide-eyed figure standing next to him.

As she watched, Jeff rested a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezed firmly, then pivoted and crouched down in front of the child. "L.B., I need you to help Krystina and Sable get to the surface."

"Jeff—" Sable began, instinctively realizing what he intended, but he cut her off, before she could argue any further.

"I have to go after her," Jeff swore as he stood again. He’d understood enough of Sable’s breathless version of events to realize that Fallon was somewhere ahead and he had to get to her. She’d been his wife, had borne his child. He owed her this.

Sable drew breath to argue, but seeing the determination in his eyes, she dropped the effort. He wouldn’t be dissuaded and she would only waste time if she tried. "All right," she whispered, redoubling her hold on the child in her arms. "I’ll get them up and send help as quickly as possible. But, Jeff, you should know that Grimes is down there. I may have knocked him unconscious, but it was dark and I just don’t know. There’s also a point where the corridor is almost completely blocked. You’ll have to go over a pile of rubble and it’s nasty climb. Grimes was just in front of that point. If you don’t see him there, it means he’s somewhere else in those tunnels...and you’ll be vulnerable as hell while you’re going over." If she thought that was enough to convince him to wait, she was mistaken, but L.B. looked terrified.

"Dad," the child choked and grabbed his father’s hand. "Maybe you should—"

"I’ll be all right," Jeff said firmly, then glanced at Sable, the plea in his eyes. He had no choice but to rely on the person he trusted least in the world with the most valuable thing in his life.

In answer, she reached out, curving an arm around his son’s shoulders, and hugging him to her side. "We’ll get help," she said, pointedly including the boy in the effort.

"But I want to go with you, Dad," L.B. insisted. With one parent in danger, he couldn’t bear the thought of letting the other out of his sight.

"I know, son, but—" Jeff began, hurting for his son and hating the thought of telling him he’d only be in the way. Ironically, it was his aunt who came to the rescue.

"But Krystina and I need you, L.B.," she murmured. "You and your father both have flashlights, but I don’t...and I doubt I could successfully use one while carrying Krystina anyway."

Flashing her a grateful look, Jeff patted his son’s shoulder. "That right. I’ll be all right, but they need your help...can I count on you to look after them while I look for your mom?"

L.B. looked like he wanted to say no, but he nodded.

"Okay," Jeff murmured. "Then we both need to get moving."

Keeping her arm around the child’s shoulder, Sable urged him along. She and her nephew shared a last glance, each of them mouthing, "Good luck," as they passed each other in the corridor, then continued on their respective ways.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Even as he hurried away from his son and aunt, it occurred to Jeff that he could well be making a disastrous mistake. Given the amount of debris, the tunnels were clearly unstable. Plus there was Grimes, maybe knocked out by Sable, but then again maybe not. Meanwhile, judging by Sable’s brief description, he might not even be able to get to Fallon without help. All in all, he probably wasn’t showing the best judgment.

But it was Fallon.

And he’d been in love with her since he was little more than a boy.

Muttering curses under his breath, he redoubled his speed, moving as quickly as he dared on the uneven ground. Jogging as fast as he was, it was impossible to keep his flashlight steady, and the beam bobbled randomly across the surrounding walls. It restricted his vision, meant he didn’t see things until he was nearly on top of them.

Like the unconscious, sprawled form of Dennis Grimes.

His eyes on the barrier that suddenly appeared in the narrow line of the beam, Jeff stumbled over something and nearly went down. Momentarily distracted by the effort to regain his balance, it took an extra second for him to realize that whatever he’d run into hadn’t been rock, but rather had the density and give of human flesh. When he did he leapt back several paces and swept his flashlight back and forth until he spotted what he’d hit.

It was Grimes, slumped against the wall, his legs splayed across the width of the tunnel, so covered in dust that it was no wonder Jeff hadn’t seen him. Even under the flashlight beam, he threatened to blend into the surrounding rock.

Cautiously leaning closer, Jeff watched for any sign of movement even as he noted that his aunt had managed to inflict some pretty brutal injuries. Grimes’ face was bloodied, his nose mishapen and undoubtedly broken, one cheek cut and swollen.

Dirty blond hair fell across Grimes’ forehead and eyes, obscuring them from view and Jeff reached out, cautiously brushing lank strands aside. What he found made his stomach roll violently. No question now why Grimes was so still. At least one of Sable’s blows—and perhaps more, it was hard to tell in the faint light---had found its mark in a spectacular way. The outer edge of Grimes’ right eye socket was crushed inward, the flesh torn to reveal hints of crumpled white bone.

Considering what the bastard had doubtless intended for Fallon and Krystina, Jeff couldn’t find it in his heart to feel even a moment’s pity. Pushing the nausea down, he backed away, then turned toward the piled rocks he still needed to get past. Time to start climbing. Loose rock slid under his boots and crumbled under his hands, offering almost no purchase. Getting over the barrier was going to be easier said than done. Teeth gritted with determination, he put every ounce of muscle to the task, hauling himself up. Scrambling hard, he made it high enough to thrust his arm through the opening at the top and was halfway through when he heard a sound behind him. Twisting, he shined the light back the way he’d come, his jaw dropping as he realized not only wasn’t Grimes dead, he wasn’t even unconscious. In checking on the man, he must have roused him, and he was stumbling dazedly to his feet, his face bloodied, eyes so squinted, they were almost completely shut.

And in one hand, he held a lethal looking pistol.

"Gon’ make you pay, bitch," he slurred as he turned this way and that, clearly hunting for his prey by sound. He heard what he was listening for when Jeff’s foot slipped, knocking dozens of tiny stones loose to trickle down the mounded rocks. Grimes pivoted toward the sound so unsteadily he nearly went down.

Jeff didn’t think, he just moved, kicking off and diving through the narrow space just ahead the explosion that shook the walls, and started a chain reaction of toppling debris.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"DAD!" L.B. screamed an instant after the first distant, percussive explosion, his voice melding with the deep, earth shaking rumbles that followed. He would have run after his father, but Sable grabbed him by the arm and hauled him back against her side.

She was still struggling with the boy when another shot shattered the air and brought a trickle of dust and tiny stones down on her head.

"I gotta get to my dad," L.B. panted, struggling wildly in an effort to break free of her tight grip.

"No," she ground out, ignoring the small foot that kicked at her shins. "We’ve got to get out of here." She dragged him after her even as walls began to shake and tremble, but they weren’t moving fast enough. "Bloody hell," she grunted and yanked him against her side, then ducked enough to scoop him up. With Krystina already holding on with a death grip, she shouldn’t have been able to handle any more weight, but a panic driven surge of adrenaline gave strength to her muscles. It was a temporary reprieve, but she had to pray it was enough as she hauled the two children back toward the surface.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"What the hell," Zorelli muttered as the floor trembled ever so slightly under his feet and every gauge on the equipment the searchers were using started dancing wildly.

"More tremors," one of the workers responded after a moment’s study. "But they’re not close enough to be in this area...."

"What do you mean?" Zorelli questioned.

"Unless I’m mistaken," the tech responded, his attention on the numbers scrolling across the screen on his laptop, "either these caves are a lot bigger than we thought...or there’s another set of tunnels...but either way, there’s something else out there...and it’s coming apart."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dodging wildly to avoid falling chunks of rock, Jeff ran, skidded, slid, and sometimes even fell as he made his way lower. Moving mostly by feel—he was moving so quickly that his flashlight bounced so much as to be nearly useless—he scrambled down stairs and over fallen rock, finally spilling down a final flight of stairs into a room broad enough that his flashlight couldn’t penetrate the darkness far enough to find the far wall.

It had to be the big room Sable had spoken about. Which meant Fallon was close.

It suddenly struck him that the worst of the shaking seemed to have passed, and he flicked his light over the floor, walls, and ceiling of the chamber in front of him. By the look of it, half the ceiling was now in pieces on the floor, but the remaining rocks overhead looked stable as did the walls.

He heard a soft sound behind him and spun, shining the light back the way he’d come, but it was just a few bits of loose gravel breaking loose. No sign of Grimes.

Jeff took a deep breath and let it out slowly, consciously calming himself. Even without the cave-in there was no way Grimes could have followed him. The man had been far too badly hurt to make his way over the barricade Jeff had climbed.

Comforting himself with that thought, Jeff turned back toward the main room, returning his attention to the problem at hand. "Fallon," he called just loudly enough to hope she could hear him from anywhere near the room, but not so loudly that he was afraid of bringing more rocks down.

No answer. Okay, so that was to be expected. Sable had said Fallon was unconscious. And also that she’d marked the boulder hiding his ex with her jacket. Flashing the beam ahead of him, he made his way along the wall, until he spotted a flash of color. Nearly covered in dust, a corner of the bright teal silk still managed to gleam in the thin light. Scrambling over to it, he tried to thrust his arm through the crack between the boulder and the wall, but either the rocks had shifted or his arm was too much thicker than his aunt’s, but he couldn’t reach anything.

"Fallon," Jeff panted hopefully, but there was no response. "I’m here." After setting his flashlight aside, he braced himself and pushed, felt the stone move a little, then pushed again, throwing every muscle into it. Suddenly it shifted and rolled aside, clearing the way.

Breathing hard, his heart hammering in his chest, he sank down and retrieved his flashlight as he leaned into the tight space. "Fallon."

She was lying on her side with her back to him and didn’t stir as he spoke her name or brushed her shoulder.

His touch incredibly gentle, Jeff brushed dark hair back, flinching as he saw blood and bruises. "You’re safe now," he told her, hoping to reach some part of her as he carefully eased her out of the hiding place and into his arms. "I won’t let Grimes hurt you...."

Kneeling with her draped across his thighs and one arm under her back, he ran the flashlight beam over the length of her body, flinching at the sight of torn clothes and bruised and bloody flesh. Damn that bastard for hurting her this way. "I promise, you’re going to be okay...I’ll find a way to get you out of here." Even as the words left his mouth, he looked back the way he’d come and knew he couldn’t simply carry her, not over the rough ground, not to mention piled rocks. "I won’t leave you."

He was startled when he felt the lightest of touches on his arm. "Jeff?" Fallon’s voice was soft, little more than a breath.

"I’m here," he assured her. "I’ll take care of you."

He never knew if she heard him before she went limp again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As she staggered up the final steps toward the passage to the outside world, the irony didn’t escape Sable Colby that amid a dozen different injuries, the two that hurt the most were the rapidly growing bruise on one thigh where a small foot kept repeatedly hammering at her, and the bloody teeth marks on her forearm where L.B. had done his damnedest to take a piece out of her in his desperation to escape and go after his father.

Next time, Jeff could just rescue his own bloody son.

Meanwhile, Krystina had a death grip on her neck that made the simple act of breathing a challenge, especially since mere breathing wasn’t so much what she needed as huge, gasping, lungs full of air.

Just keep moving, she told herself and muscled her way forward. Getting out meant climbing up through the narrow passage into the shed. Which was so impossible with two children in her arms that it didn’t bear thinking about.

L.B. got his teeth into her arm again and bit down with all his might. The little wretch. Minding somewhat less than she might have under different circumstances, she slung him through the opening, careless of inflicting any bruises, then twisted sideways and pushed herself and Krystina through, using her body to block L.B. from going back the way they’d come. Grabbing his collar, she shoved him back, then ducked enough to get her arm around his waist. Lovely, back to the hammering on her thigh and snapping teeth. Ignoring both, she stumbled into the chilly night air.

You aren’t home yet, Sable reminded herself as she fought the temptation to sink to her knees in an exhausted slump. "Help!!" Her first shout was weak and raspy with inhaled dust. It wasn’t going to be enough to summon anyone. A small foot hammered her thigh a few more times and she focused on the pain. No getting rid of the boy, his pounding foot, or any of it until she got someone’s attention. That thought running through her brain, she marshaled herself and took a deep breath. And then she was screaming, her voice echoing across the night in closely spaced bursts. "HELP!!! HELP!!!!" It seemed to take forever, but finally she thought she saw a flicker of movement under the distant lights, and in the moments that followed, time seemed to coalesce until she had no idea how much passed before the first shadowed figure arrived and dropped to one knee to slide a supportive arm across her shoulders.

"Mom, are you all right?"

"I’ve had better days," Sable exhaled as she blinked rapidly to clear her hazy vision and realized her rescuer was her own daughter. In an instant, her knees gave way and she sank down to the cool grass, certain Monica would take care of things. "You’ve got to speak to the search team...they’re looking in the wrong place," she babbled, the words tumbling out as quickly as she could speak. She nodded the indicate the entrance to the storage shed. "I followed Jeff’s son down there...there’s a whole network of tunnels...the children found them. That’s where Krystina took Fallon...that’s where they’re lost...and now Jeff has gone after them...but Grimes is down there too." Still breathless, she ran out of air and had to pause for a second before finishing. "We’ve got to get help."

Monica was staring at her as though she’d lost her mind, but she nodded, then waved to other people who were headed their way. In moments they were surrounded and she heard a dozen questions, though it was almost impossible to parse the meaning of any of them. "Somebody take him," she muttered as she realized she was close to losing her grip on L.B. Someone stepped in an lifted the boy out of her arms. Thank goodness. Let someone else take the beating for awhile.

And then the man she’d seen fighting with Jeff was kneeling in front of her, his questions short and to the point. By the time she’d finished telling him what she knew, several paramedics and a pair of gurneys were waiting nearby. One of them reached for Krystina, but the child whimpered and clung desperately.

"It’s all right...she’s just frightened," Sable muttered as she allowed them to help her lie down on one of the gurneys, the child still held tightly in her arms. "Just leave her."

"Tell the doctors she’s pregnant," Monica whispered to one of the medics. "They need to check her thoroughly." Then she knelt down next to her mother. "I’ll meet you at the hospital."

Sable nodded, her eyes sliding closed, exhaustion catching up with her now that she no longer had to fight just to survive. "If you’re needed here---" she began, but Monica cut her off.

"No, I’ll meet you there," the young woman assured her mother, her voice cracking with stress. The hair across her mother’s brow was stiff with drying blood as she tenderly brushed it back, the recent distance between them receding in an instant. None of it really mattered, she realized, not when compared with what could have happened. She squeezed a slender hand in her own. "I’ll be there." Then she was left alone amid the milling crowd as the paramedics carried their charges to the waiting ambulance.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Well?" Zorelli demanded as he followed a short distance behind a mining engineer into the newly discovered tunnel.

The man glanced back over his shoulder, looking annoyed at the detective’s impatience. "It’s been shored up," he explained as he climbed over several chunks of rubble to kneel beside the splintered remains of a well aged wood ceiling support. "But the wood’s old...rotted...hell, those kids are lucky the air was still good—"

"What do you mean?"

"The rotting wood eats up the oxygen...air goes bad...in this case though, they got lucky. Whoever built this place didn’t use that many supports...so not so much rotting wood. The O2's probably pretty thin, but breathable. However, it means that once one support was overstressed and gave...then they all started to go...."

"Meaning?" Zorelli demanded.

The engineer shone his flashlight deeper into the tunnel, noting the amount of rubble that had fallen, then turned and scraped at the wall with a thumbnail. The rock crumbled easily. "The other tunnel we were looking at was mostly cut in fairly solid granite...this is clay and shale. They’re probably part of the same complex, but at some point, this section started coming down...maybe years ago, maybe last week. In any event, it’s totally unstable."

Feeling as though he’d taken a solid blow to the solar plexus, Zorelli lost all color. "So what do we do."

"From what the woman and boy said, it’s probably passable, but it’s not safe...and I doubt it could be made safe with a full crew and a month’s time...."

"What if we go in with the smallest crew possible," Zorelli said, ignoring the obvious reality that it meant asking people to put their lives on the line. "Move fast and just grab ‘em and get out?"

"You might make it," the engineer admitted. "We know the woman and boy came and went...but it’s a crap. Might work, might get even more people in trouble."

Ignoring any temptation to panic, Zorelli considered the other man. "What would you recommend if somebody was gonna try?" he asked.

"A small crew...no more than four or five people. You’d be wise to carry oxygen in case it’s running low in the lower areas...bad air sinks. Be as quiet as possible...any vibration could bring the walls down...and disturb as little rock as possible. Anyone who goes with you should know the risks." The engineer looked down, his expression embarrassed. "I’d help but...I’ve got a family...young children." He couldn’t quite openly refuse to help, but neither could he take a risk like that and leave those he loved unprotected.

"Get outa here," Zorelli said, absolving the man of any guilt as he turned and hurried back toward the surface in search of a tiny team of volunteers willing to take the risk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With Fallon’s head pillowed in his lap, Jeff leaned over his ex wife, carefully protecting her from the occasional small bits of debris that still tumbled from the ceiling overhead. They battered his back, but none were large enough to cause more than a certain amount of discomfort. After some time, he was never sure how long, he turned off the flashlight, afraid the batteries would die and leave him without the option of light and simply held his ex wife, talking to her quietly, reassuring her, telling her brave their son had been, then finally slipping into stories of the past they shared from childhood on. Occasionally, he flicked the flashlight on for a minute or two to check on her, but otherwise, he simply talked. Every now and then, she stirred gently, but didn’t speak again, though her breathing seemed easier than it had when he first arrived.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he first heard the distant scrabble of rocks, but the instant he heard it his pulse slammed into overtime and his hands fisted tightly. It couldn’t be Grimes. No way in hell that bastard had managed to get up again, not after having the ceiling fall on him.

Nonetheless, Jeff carefully eased Fallon’s head back to the floor and rose to his feet, redoubling his grip on the flashlight as he moved. It wasn’t a great choice as weapons went, but it was the best he was likely to get. Hopefully it was rescuers, but if not....

If not, then he’d face that too.

His heart hammering against his ribs, he stood braced and waiting, the tense moments giving him plenty of time to consider just how much his arm ached where the bullet had grazed his bicep, and just how many bruises he’d picked up during the journey to find Fallon.

Not exactly the mental image he wanted to have while facing a possible fight to the death.

Which was why he was so relieved when he saw a gentle glow of lights reflected on the corridors walls and heard the faint echo of human voices.

Grimes wasn’t likely to be discussing much of anything with anybody.

Then he recognized Zorelli’s voice. "Over here," Jeff called out as he flipped the switch on his light to mark their spot.

"Keep it down," the detective warned, his voice low and intense as he hurried their way.

Jeff flashed his light over the rescue team, surprised to find that only four figures appeared to have come with the police officer. He wanted to call out a dozen different questions, but mindful of Zorelli’s warning, he held them back until the small contingent reached them.

"Fallon?" Zorelli questioned without waiting.

Jeff crouched down next to her, petting dark hair with a gentle hand. "She’s alive...was even conscious for a moment...but we need to get her out of here."

Zorelli nodded and waved one of his team forward. A young woman dropped to a crouch and began checking Fallon with fast, professional care, while another team member, a muscular man who looked to be at least forty began slotting together a folding stretcher.

Jeff flashed a worried look past Zorelli’s shoulder. "Any sign of Grimes?" he questioned. Intellectually, he was certain the man couldn’t possibly have survived, but he still wanted the reassurance of hearing it.

"We passed him on the way down." Zorelli shook his head. "Or rather, what was left of him. He won’t be threatening anybody ever again."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Jeff nodded, then gestured to the small rescue crew. "Please tell me you’ve got more people coming," he begged. Maybe the rest were just busy shoring up the tunnels or getting through the piled rubble.

Zorelli shook his head. "This is it...according to the engineers, these tunnels are a lot more unstable than the others. We couldn’t risk any more...that’s why we need to move fast and quiet."

The young woman checking Fallon finished and sat back on her heels. "I don’t see anything that precludes moving her," she murmured.

Overhead, the ceiling creaked gently, the sound reminding them all of their vulnerability.

Zorelli dropped down to a crouch as the medic waved the men closer to help with moving Fallon onto the stretcher.

Already battered and unstable, Jeff stayed back this time, unable to do more than watch and pray they could all escape with their lives.