"I can't—"
"Yes, you can! Think! Tell me what to do!"
She couldn't think. They were going to die here. They were going to suffocate from lack of air . . . unless they found some air first. Yes, that was it. They had to get away. Find someplace to wait till the choking dynamite fumes dissipated. A quiet place to recover from the blinding headache giant power always caused. Jess raised a hand to her aching temple. Her skull hurt so much just now she could barely speak.
"Maybe . . . we should move . . . to the lower tunnel. It's too hard to breathe here. The air will be better down there."
"Good idea. Come on, honey." Putting an arm around her waist, he lifted Jess to her feet.
She didn't protest; she knew Devlin wouldn't allow it. She'd never been so scared in her life, but it was obvious that Devlin wasn't going to let her dwell on her fears.
He took one step forward, though, then stumbled and cursed roundly.
"Jess, I've twisted my ankle. You're going to have to help me."
"Is it bad?"
"Yes. Get the candle."
She obeyed automatically, moving to fetch the candle on its spike holder, then lending her shoulder for Devlin to lean on. The thought of him in pain was somehow harder for her to deal with than her own pain; it brought out all her motherly instincts and spurred her to action in a way all the other danger had failed to do.
Slowly, awkwardly, they made their way down the narrow tunnel, ducking frequently to avoid a beam or a jagged outcrop of rock, till they reached the end. The huge iron bucket that normally transported people and ore up and down the shaft could not be used without someone to operate the hand-crank, but steel pegs had been driven into the shaft walls at regular intervals to form a ladder of sorts. Jess went down first, awkwardly negotiating the rungs while holding the candle, splotches of dripping wax burning her hand.
The air was sweeter there, almost bearable. She took a deep breath as she set foot on solid ground, then called up to Devlin. "Can you make it?"
"Yes." His tone sounded grim but determined. Jess waited below for him, wincing each time he missed a peg of the ladder.
When finally he reached her, she moved into his embrace without speaking. Pressing her body against his lean-muscled frame, Jess wrapped her arms around his waist tightly, unsure whether she was offering support or drawing from his strength. Maybe both.
They stood there a minute, holding each other, savoring the feeling of being alive.
"Can you find a place for us to rest?" Devlin said at last.
Jess swallowed hard and summoned her courage. Nodding, she drew away.
"There's a good place over here," she said a moment later. Returning to his side, she helped him limp along the lower tunnel, moving deeper into the mountain, skirting several ore cars. Shortly this level came to an end and the iron rails stopped. Jess settled Devlin on the rock floor with his back to the wall, and sat down beside him, placing the candle safely out of reach. There was little space, but they had enough room to lie down if they chose.
"Ah, much better," Devlin said with a sigh that sounded almost like pleasure. When Jess didn't reply, he cast her a sidelong glance. "Are you all right?"
"No." Her body was shaking helplessly, and she couldn't control it. "We're going to die down here."
"No, we aren't. Don't sound so dour. We'll survive. We have plenty of drinking water and"—he fished in his vest pocket to pull out a small wrapped parcel—"biscuits and ham for supper. Flo packed a supper so I wouldn't starve, bless her heart. What will you give me for a biscuit, angel?"
His grin was teasing and altogether too irreverent for their dire situation. Wrapping her arms around herself, Jess shook her head. "We can't live without air," she reminded him bleakly, her voice quivering.
"It won't come to that. We'll be rescued long before our air runs out. I wouldn't be surprised to hear a crew working with pickaxes and shovels in a little while."
"You really think we'll be rescued?"
"Absolutely."
"I can't see how. Even if anybody heard the explosion here, they wouldn't have paid it any mind, not with all the blasting going on in the other mines. The night shift is the best time to set charges, so the fumes will be gone when the crew shows up for work in the morning—"
"Perhaps," Devlin cut off her chatter. "But there's still a chance someone heard this one and became suspicious. It's common knowledge that you don't work a night shift in the Wildstar. And someone might pass by and notice the collapsed tunnel and go for help. In any case, when you don't come home right away, Riley will send Clem after you."
"You think so?"
"Most certainly. And after what I did for Clem last week, he damn well better hightail it up here or I'll have his ears." Devlin's adamancy surprised a faint, fleeting smile from Jess. "Until then," he added, "we sit tight. Come here."