Page 74 of The Promise
"He's asleep. He drained what was left of Arless' whiskey."
"You get the bullet?"
"Yes, but I don't know what kind of damage I did to his leg. It was real deep."
He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sure you did just fine."
She held out a plate. "I brought you something to eat. It's cold, but I figured it was better than nothing."
He looked down at the griddle cakes, the food making him think of Arless. His stomach turned. He took the plate, but set it down beside him. "Thanks, I'll eat in a bit. You go on and tend to Pete."
He stared out the window, trying to decide what to do. He could probably make it to the stable. And then, with a little luck, he could outride the gun fire and go for help. Problem was he'd be leaving Loralee and Pete unprotected. Pete wasn't any good to anybody right now, and Loralee had spirit, but she couldn't hold off a gunman forever.
Fact was he couldn't leave them. They'd be sitting ducks for Striker.
The yard looked painfully normal. From here he couldn't even see Arless' body. He looked at the sun, trying to figure out how long they'd been pinned in here. Maybe Amos had given up. Suddenly, he couldn't stand it anymore. He had to know.
"Throw me that blanket, Loralee."
She grabbed one of the blankets she'd wrapped around Pete, lobbing it to him from across the room. The glass in the window above him shattered, the sound of Amos' shot reverberating through the room. The blanket hit the floor with a soft thud. It could just as easily have been one of them.
"Well, that wasn't what I had in mind, but it answered my question just the same."
"He's still out there." Her voice trembled.
"Yup. And he's closer."
20
It was dark. So dark Cara couldn't even see her hand in front of her face. She sat up, disoriented, trying to remember what had happened. Her head hurt. She probed her scalp gingerly, relieved to find only a small lump. She rubbed her throat, surprised at how tender it was.
Nick.
Memory came crashing in, her mind replaying the moment when he'd shoved her forward, the sound of his shots reverberating off the walls. A cave-in. She drew in a breath, choking on the dust that filled the tunnel. Nick had caused a cave-in.
"Michael?"
The silence echoed back at her, mocking her with its emptiness. She swallowed, wondering if the sudden dryness in her throat was caused by the dust or her rising fear.
"Michael? Can you hear me?"
The tunnel remained silent. She closed her mouth, forcing herself to breathe through her nose. The dark was overwhelming, pressing in on her, threatening to consume what little courage she had left. She had to find Michael. He was heresomewhere. All she had to do was to stay calm and search. She stared into the darkness, trying to see something,anything.
There was no light at all, nothing to distinguish a wall from a shadow, the front of the tunnel from the back. She forced herself to picture the tunnel. In her mind's eye, she saw the entrance, and using her memory, traced a path all the way to the rear. She could do this. She just had to rely on her sense of touch.
Rocking up onto her knees, she crawled forward, one hand extended in front of her, sweeping through the endless blackness, searching for him. After only a few feet, her hand met rock, solid, impenetrable rock.
Standing, she stretched her arms out to both sides and swung them slowly up and down. Nothing. Feeling again for the wall in front of her, she moved along it until she felt the junction of wall meeting wall.
A corner.
Progress.
There were only a couple of corners. She ought to be able to orient herself. She ran a hand along the two adjacent walls. One was smooth in comparison to the other. She sucked in a breath, almost choking on the dust. She had found the slide. Following the path of the cave-in, her trembling fingers searched for a hole, some portal for escape. A stone wobbled under her touch.
With pounding heart, she carefully tried to pry it away from the blockage. It fell heavily into her hands, but the resulting hail of loose stone filled its place almost immediately. Reaching higher, she grabbed another protruding rock and yanked it free. Again, stones and dirt rained down on her. A rumble filled the tunnel, and she dropped to the floor, covering her head with her hands as large chunks of the ceiling crashed to the floor around her.
She scrambled away, tripping, falling to her knees, gulping for breath, the dust again filling her lungs. Reaching out, shetried to find the wall, afraid that somehow in her panic, she had disoriented herself. Her hand groped through the dark, closing around something cold and pliant. She retched and jerked back, recoiling as her senses registered the feel of a human hand.
