muttered Dan. "Can't remember my own parents, but rotten Aunt Beatrice --she's a glowing electric billboard in my head." "We've got Grace," Amy reminded him gently.
"Grace." The name came out as a sigh. "I miss her, but sometimes I wonder if I even should."
"Grace loved us."
"Then how come she didn't tell us about all this?" he demanded. "The Cahills! The contest! A little warning might've come in handy. Like, 'Okay, today you're a kid playing Super Mario,
but in a couple of months you'll be lost in a European tunnel with a mad killer -- '" Bang!
The flash was a supernova in the blackness. Their eyes, wide-open, straining for night sight, were painfully overloaded. Dan could make out a figure running away from them in the passage. But his hands automatically snapped up to shield his face before he could make an ID. And then the explosion was over, replaced by the rumbling sound that signaled the ceiling was about to collapse.
Amy heard her brother's cry when the boulder struck his shoulder. Their hands were still clenched, so she felt it when he went down, buried by rocks and dirt.
"Dan!" She pulled his arm with all her might, even as she was pelted with falling gravel. Mustering a hidden cache of strength, she gave a mammoth yank, and her brother scrambled up beside her, spitting dust, unable to form words. "Are you hurt?" she rasped.
Without answering, he reached into the blackness and felt along the outline of the rubble. It blocked the shaft completely. He tried to burrow through the pile, only to trigger a mini - avalanche that filled in his progress and buried him in gravel up to his ankles. "I don't think we can dig ourselves out!"
The nightmares closed in on Amy like circling sharks. What could be worse than being lost in the dark? Being trapped in the dark... dying in the dark...
She peered at the shadowy silhouette of her brother's face, trying to bring his green
eyes into focus. That's when it hit her. "Dan -- I can see you!"
"That's impossi -- wait! I see you, too! Just your outline. But-"
"There has to be light coming from somewhere," Amy reasoned. "And where there's
light, there's -- "
"A way out!" Dan crowed.
It was almost imperceptible -- not even enough to illuminate the walls of the passage. But it was definitely there -- a dull gray-orange glow.
It was still too dark to see, so their progress was slow. Dan tripped a couple of times as the rock floor grew rougher, and Amy walked into the wall where the tunnel turned unexpectedly.
She barely noticed the collision. Around the corner, the glow was stronger. She could see her brother's silhouette without squinting.
"Jackpot!" Dan exclaimed. The black expanse of floor gave way to a narrow rectangle of radiance. "A secret passage!" He lowered himself into the tight opening. "I'll bet there's a ladder somewhere...."
A yelp was followed by a muffled crash. "Or maybe not," he groaned from below. "Get down here. I think I found something."
Gingerly, Amy eased herself into the tiny space, feeling for footholds in the rock. Soon
she discovered what her brother had missed -- a series of notches carved into the wall.
Dan helped her down into an open chamber lit with oil lamps. After the total blackness
of the tunnel, the orange flicker seemed like the arc lights of a stadium.
She looked around. At least half the room was piled to the ceiling with large weathered
barrels.
"Could these be a clue?" Dan wondered.
Amy shrugged helplessly. "They won't do us much good if we don't know what's inside
them."
The Cahills ventured closer. The drums seemed very old. There were no markings on the oak casings.
"Maybe we can swipe one and roll it out of here." He pressed his shoulder against a cask and pushed with all his might. It wouldn't budge.
Amy came over to lend a hand, and that was when she saw it. An aged desk stood by the wall, half hidden by the stacked containers. On the sloped surface sat a single piece of paper.
The Cahills rushed to examine
"Grace." The name came out as a sigh. "I miss her, but sometimes I wonder if I even should."
"Grace loved us."
"Then how come she didn't tell us about all this?" he demanded. "The Cahills! The contest! A little warning might've come in handy. Like, 'Okay, today you're a kid playing Super Mario,
but in a couple of months you'll be lost in a European tunnel with a mad killer -- '" Bang!
The flash was a supernova in the blackness. Their eyes, wide-open, straining for night sight, were painfully overloaded. Dan could make out a figure running away from them in the passage. But his hands automatically snapped up to shield his face before he could make an ID. And then the explosion was over, replaced by the rumbling sound that signaled the ceiling was about to collapse.
Amy heard her brother's cry when the boulder struck his shoulder. Their hands were still clenched, so she felt it when he went down, buried by rocks and dirt.
"Dan!" She pulled his arm with all her might, even as she was pelted with falling gravel. Mustering a hidden cache of strength, she gave a mammoth yank, and her brother scrambled up beside her, spitting dust, unable to form words. "Are you hurt?" she rasped.
Without answering, he reached into the blackness and felt along the outline of the rubble. It blocked the shaft completely. He tried to burrow through the pile, only to trigger a mini - avalanche that filled in his progress and buried him in gravel up to his ankles. "I don't think we can dig ourselves out!"
The nightmares closed in on Amy like circling sharks. What could be worse than being lost in the dark? Being trapped in the dark... dying in the dark...
She peered at the shadowy silhouette of her brother's face, trying to bring his green
eyes into focus. That's when it hit her. "Dan -- I can see you!"
"That's impossi -- wait! I see you, too! Just your outline. But-"
"There has to be light coming from somewhere," Amy reasoned. "And where there's
light, there's -- "
"A way out!" Dan crowed.
It was almost imperceptible -- not even enough to illuminate the walls of the passage. But it was definitely there -- a dull gray-orange glow.
It was still too dark to see, so their progress was slow. Dan tripped a couple of times as the rock floor grew rougher, and Amy walked into the wall where the tunnel turned unexpectedly.
She barely noticed the collision. Around the corner, the glow was stronger. She could see her brother's silhouette without squinting.
"Jackpot!" Dan exclaimed. The black expanse of floor gave way to a narrow rectangle of radiance. "A secret passage!" He lowered himself into the tight opening. "I'll bet there's a ladder somewhere...."
A yelp was followed by a muffled crash. "Or maybe not," he groaned from below. "Get down here. I think I found something."
Gingerly, Amy eased herself into the tiny space, feeling for footholds in the rock. Soon
she discovered what her brother had missed -- a series of notches carved into the wall.
Dan helped her down into an open chamber lit with oil lamps. After the total blackness
of the tunnel, the orange flicker seemed like the arc lights of a stadium.
She looked around. At least half the room was piled to the ceiling with large weathered
barrels.
"Could these be a clue?" Dan wondered.
Amy shrugged helplessly. "They won't do us much good if we don't know what's inside
them."
The Cahills ventured closer. The drums seemed very old. There were no markings on the oak casings.
"Maybe we can swipe one and roll it out of here." He pressed his shoulder against a cask and pushed with all his might. It wouldn't budge.
Amy came over to lend a hand, and that was when she saw it. An aged desk stood by the wall, half hidden by the stacked containers. On the sloped surface sat a single piece of paper.
The Cahills rushed to examine
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