“Really? I thought it had more to do with my scrawny limbs, passion for all-weekend RealmSaga sessions, and pathological inability to speak to women without stuttering.”
“No, it’s definitely the inappropriate snickering.” I freed the bullwhip and looped it again on my belt opposite the multi-tool that completed my adventuring ensemble. “A girl likes to know that you support her and—”
A shriek rang out of the darkness. I jumped so high I nearly cracked my head on the tunnel support.
“What the—?” Simon asked.
I would have asked something similar, but I was too busy clutching my chest and wondering if one’s heart really could leap into one’s throat. It’d been so silent since we entered the passage that I was surprised to learn anyone else was on the same mountain, much less in the same mine. And apparently in distress. Or pain. Male? Female? I couldn’t tell. The scream rang out again.
I jogged for the rock pile and climbed a couple of feet, shining my headlamp into the darkness ahead. “Do you think we can get there from here?”
“Er.” Simon hadn’t moved. The whites of his eyes were visible around his irises.
I frowned back at him. “What’s the hold up? Someone’s in pain.”
“It sounds like someone’s being attacked. The closest thing to a weapon I have is an app that makes machine gun noises.”
“Don’t be silly. Attacked by what? Someone must have fallen into a pit or something and needs help.”
The scream came again, much weaker this time, almost a whimper.
I crawled higher up on the rubble pile until my head almost bumped against the ceiling. On hands and knees, I advanced atop the gravel and boulders, not certain if the tunnel continued or if I’d run into a dead-end. I was relieved when rocks shifted behind me, announcing that Simon was following. Despite my certain words, I didn’t truly want to crawl deeper into the mine alone.
We shuffled across the top of the rubble-filled tunnel in silence for a few minutes. The scream didn’t come again. I wondered if we were going in the wrong direction, but there’d been no other alternative routes, at least not from the mine shaft we’d entered through. It’d been so hidden behind tall grass and manzanita that I wouldn’t have thought anyone had traipsed through it for years if not decades. But we couldn’t be the only... explorers—my mind shied away from labeling us as scavengers—out here.
“Stop,” Simon whispered.
“What is it?” I halted, turning my face left and right to probe the darkness ahead with my headlamp.
“Do you smell... I swear I caught a whiff of blood.”
At first, I thought he might be joking—what did he think he was, a bloodhound?—but the dusty air did have a different scent. Blood? I wasn’t sure, but the memory of elk hunting with my grandfather came to mind, so maybe so.
“He could have gotten some cuts...” I said, though I’d grown less certain of my fall-in-a-pit theory. What kind of pits would there be in mine shafts, anyway?
“I’m glad you’re leading the way,” Simon muttered.
I continued forward, keeping my eyes trained on the darkness ahead. “You’re not living up to all those stories about Native Americans being brave warriors.”
“You’re thinking of the Comanche. My people have always been peaceful fishermen. We rocked at throwing parties and giving gifts too. You’ve heard of potlatches, right? If you want me to make a gift for whatever is attacking that person, I’ll be happy to do so.”
Usually his chatter made me smile, but I found myself licking my lips and wondering if we should leave. I hadn’t heard a peep in several minutes. Maybe it was too late. Or maybe we could pretend we’d never heard anything to start with. Despite the cowardly thoughts, I kept going. If we ended up injured or in trouble on one of our excursions, I sure hoped someone would come help us.
The rubble pile sloped downward until I could stand again. Ore cart tracks came into view, as well as our first branch in the tunnel system. Three options stretched before us, all dark. I thought we might spot some footprints, but rocks and gravel dominated the ground, nothing that held tracks.
“Got an app that can tell us which way?” I asked.
But Simon had tucked away his smartphone. He sniffed the air a couple of times, then pointed to the leftmost passage. I tried a few experimental sniffs myself. That faint taint of blood or meat still hung in the air, along with... It almost smelled like the ocean. Salt? Seaweed? Odd. We were a six-hour drive from the Pacific.#p#分页标题#e#
I was tempted to make Simon go first since he’d picked the route, but he truly was unarmed. At least I had sharp, pointy things on my multi-tool. And I’d taken those three years of Tae Kwon Do during college. Both of which were sure to be useful against a pack of rabid wolves.