Sierra Falls (Sierra Falls 1)
“Then make tracks, old man. ” Billy stormed out the door with Bear on his heels, moving faster than he’d ever seen him.
Forty-three
They sped to the trailhead, with Bear glowering in the seat beside him. “There’s one thing I don’t get,” the old man said. “Damien drunk? This time of day? Doesn’t sound like the kid I know. ”
Billy had to agree, but for different reasons. He’d bent his own elbow with the guy and knew from experience it’d take a hell of a lot to get Damien drunk.
“Let’s just hope he had his wits enough to send us to the right place. ” The dirt road degraded until he could go no farther and his wheels spun and spat rocks against the vehicle’s undercarriage. He slammed it into Park. “This is as far as she goes. ”
Bear peered out the window. “We’re not close enough. You using your four-wheel drive?”
“I know how to drive in the mountains. ” There was no time for this. He unbuckled, jumped from the car, and leaning in, demanded, “Are you going to show me the mine, or do I need to find it myself?”
“Damned if I let you get all the glory. ” Bear hopped out, looking spry for a man half his age. Sure, he struggled with a limp, but he was keeping up remarkably well for someone who’d given up on good health.
The trail was slow-going, and Billy was going crazy with frustration. But Bear had been right, the mine would’ve been impossible to find without help.
He stopped to let Sorrow’s father catch up. The pace was maddening, his fear for Sorrow consuming, and he found himself speaking unchecked. “You want to know what I think?”
“Nope,” Bear said between heavy breaths.
“I think that you’re not as feeble as you worry you are. ”
The man didn’t lift his eyes from the trail as he grunted, “I’m not feeble. ”
“I didn’t say that. I said you think you’re feeble. I think that stroke scared the hell out of you,” Billy pressed. “I think you’re afraid of testing your limits. But you were lucky. Many people don’t survive it. You’re lucky as hell you’ve got a kid like Sorrow who knew the signs and got you to the hospital early. You need to think on that, on how much you have, instead of focusing on what you’ve lost. ”
“Son, here’s what I think: I think I’m done hearing your claptrap theories. ” The man looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, but his brow was furrowed in thought, and Billy had to hope his words had sunk in. Bear grumbled to himself, “I’m not afraid of you or anything, Sheriff. ”
A hill rose up beside them, and rather than continuing on the trail, Bear turned to face the steep incline, sighing heavily. “This is it. ”
Billy surveyed the rise, picking out a path of roots, rocks, and footholds in his mind’s eye, “Up it is, then. I’ll go first. ” What he didn’t say was that he’d haul Bear up as he went.
Bear was trembling by the time he got to the top. “That way. ” He pointed along the ledge, trying to catch his breath. “You’ll see it. On the right. ”
The man needed to gather his strength, but Billy couldn’t wait. “You’ll be fine here?”
“Right behind you,” Bear said. “I told you. Not feeble. ”
If Billy hadn’t been looking for the mine, he would’ve hiked right by it. Just a small black hole, etched into the rock face, it was no wonder folks had forgotten it through the years.
He shouted for her and strained his ears for a reply. Sorrow’s answering yell came quickly, but her voice sounded strained and far away. Relief swamped him. She was alive. It was enough.
Billy burst into a run—it was a stupid, precarious thing to do, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was desperate to get to her.
He burst into the mine, stopping short to let his eyes adjust. The air was close, cool pine breezes of the woods at his back mingled with the still scents of dirt and the abandoned nests of wild animals.
“Sorrow!” he shouted again, and bats exploded from inside the mine, a burst of shrieking and flapping.
Sorrow screamed.
He ran toward the sound, eyes scanning the ground. He’d been careless, but it’d be unforgivable if he fell to his death. “It’s okay. Just bats. They won’t hurt you. ”
“Easy for you to say. ” Her voice wavered, but her attempt at humor gave him hope.
He spotted the broken railing in the shadows, a timber skeleton holding vigil over a narrow black hole in the ground. He edged closer, not trusting the ground beneath him. It was a mineshaft, narrow as a well.
He dropped to his belly, scooting forward. “I’m here, babe. ” A ladder led up to the surface; she’d climbed halfway up, and he was startled to see her closer than he’d imagined.