Page 58 of New Storm Rising
Crap!
Reaching out to feel the wall, I started moving forwards into the shadows. Luckily, the floor was rather smooth and—
Thud!
“Ow! Son of a b—”
Clutching my foot, I muttered curses as I hobbled down the tunnel. Behind me, the crowd started coming down the ladder. Pressing my lips together tightly, I slid into the shadows, hiding from everyone. After the mob had trampled by, I slowly followed, making sure to stay out of sight. By now, I could see the sheriff ahead, holding aloft a flickering torch.
“Pray, what exactly are you looking for?” Mr Ambrose enquired, stepping up behind the man. Close enough for the lawman to be within reach. My oh my.
“There’s been a breakout at the local jail. We are searching for the escaped prisoners.”
“Oh, and you believe they are hiding here?” Mr Ambrose glanced around demonstratively. Somewhere in the empty tunnel, a drop of water fell from the ceiling.
Gallagher sent a glare his way. “Don’t you think I don’t know who is really behind the matter at the jail! I’ll find them. And once I do, you’ll receive a nice cell in my freshly renovated hoosegow!”[17]
“Is that so?” Mr Ambrose cocked his head, extending his hand to point at the black emptiness of the tunnel. “Best of luck with that.”
Growling, Gallagher rushed farther ahead, as determined as a bloodhound on the hunt. Heart pounding, I dashed around the crowd and followed on his heels. Not too far ahead was the place where Mr Ambrose and I had last stopped—yet the sheriff seemed to have no intention of stopping! Glancing at Mr Ambrose, I saw the minute shifts in his posture, the clenching of his hands…
Oh hell! If this went on, any moment now, he’d realize this tunnel went on for longer than it should. Or worse…
“Ah-ha! I knew it! You there, up ahead! Hands up or I’ll shoot!”
Oh shit!
Cursing inwardly, I watched as, up ahead, a cowering figure straightened and raised its hands.
Do not Touch what’s Mine. Especially the Mine.
The cowering man stiffened and raised his hands. Slowly, he straightened.
And straightened.
And straightened.
He had a lot of straightening to do.
“What. Did. You. Say?”
The sheriff swallowed. Then he slowly readjusted the barrel of his revolver upwards, so at least it was pointed at the other man’s chest instead of his shins. That didn’t seem to make him feel any more confident about his chances, though. Throwing pebbles at a mountain was never a particularly successful strategy.
“S-step towards the light! Show your face!”
The tall figure did so—only to reveal a weathered, dark, undoubtedly Indian face. And not the kind you might reasonably expect to encounter in the Wild West.
“So,” Mr Ambrose enquired, casting a questioning look towards the lawman. “Was he one of the people who escaped from your prison?”
“No!” Gallagher ground out.
“So, that means…?”
“That you’re gonna get out of my way!” Shoving Mr Ambrose and Karim both aside, the sheriff rushed further down the tunnel, until—
“Ha! Found you!”
Hastening after the man, the crowd right behind me, I arrived just in time to see Gallagher approach around a dozen figures huddled on the ground. He advanced on them, revolver raised.
