Alaska Twilight (32 page)

Haley wanted to agree, wanted to step back and let someone else do it. Shaking her head was the hardest thing she’d ever done. “I need to do it. I know how it turns and where the floor gives way. But I’ll take Samson.”

Bree called the dog, and he came toward her. Bree snapped on a leash. “Since it’s dangerous, you’d better keep him close. Sound can be distorted in a mine, so you need to let him lead you with the leash rather than rely on his barking.”

Haley nodded and wrapped the leash around her wrist. She turned toward the mine again. Her blood thundered in her ears, a roar that made it hard to hear anything other than her own fear. She got on her knees and peered into the inky darkness. She tried to lick her lips, but her mouth was too dry. “I’d better take your canteen along with my water bottle,” she said. “They might need water.”

Tank handed her the canteen, and she put it in her backpack. “Hand me your camera,” he said.

She put a protective hand on it. “No, I’ll keep it.” She turned back to the gaping wound in the side of the mountain.

“Wait!” Chet stepped past Tank. “Take my radio so we can know where you are.”

Her fingers closed around the radio he thrust at her.

It was a lifeline to the outside, more than she’d had the first time. At least people knew where she was this time and would be working to get them all out. “Thanks.” She stuck it in her backpack, then gave a last glance at the sun. She flipped on the light and let the dog go first, then began to crawl after him.

The light behind her dimmed. The tunnel narrowed, and she pressed past the tight squeeze against her shoulders. She stopped, her breathing too ragged to continue. She could do this. Everything in her wanted to back out the same way she’d come, to take a deep breath of cleansing air instead of this stale oxygen that tasted like dust. Samson tugged at the lead, and she let him pull her forward, even though a ragged cry of despair hovered behind her teeth.

Her knees burned from rubbing along the rough floor, even in her jeans. She came to a place where three drifts branched off. She could stand here. The light probed the recesses of the darkness. Above her head, the ceiling rose to a height of about twelve feet. The drifts were shorter, maybe six feet, but still tall enough that she could walk. She pressed the button on the radio. “Chet, Tank, are you there?”

“Haley, where are you?” Tank’s voice was like the sweet, clean air she craved.

“At the convergence of three drifts. I’m just catching my breath. The center one leads out to the main mine entrance. I’m signing off now. I’ll call again when I get to the main area.” She shut off the radio and stuck it back in her pack. The deeper she pressed into the mine, the more her fear mounted. As long as a few minutes’ crawl would get her outside, she’d been able to control it. She was going to have to go right past the drift where she and Chloe were trapped.

She heard something and turned to listen. Something moving fast in the loose rock. She swept her light around and saw Oscar come rushing toward her. “Oh, Oscar,” she said. The little dog leaped into her arms. She hugged him close as he licked her chin. “You weren’t about to be left behind, were you?” Still carrying him, she walked deeper into the mine. Loose gravel crunched under her boots, and she could hear the sound of water dripping. Her terror rose with every step. Why had she thought she could do this? Whimpering, she stopped. “I can’t go any farther,” she muttered. She backed away, then whirled to go back the way she’d come.

Coward. Failure.
She stopped and told herself to take deep breaths. She pressed her forehead against the cool stone wall. “God, are you there?” She listened, but though she didn’t hear anything, she felt a warm wave of comfort wash over her. She’d been furious with God, but she’d never doubted he existed. How would she feel if he failed her at the end of this drift? What if she found Brooke and Joy dead? She slammed her eyes shut.
Please, no, God.

Did that make him less sovereign? He had the right to do what he wanted with his creation. Standing in the dark tunnel with only a pinpoint glow to light the way, she remembered hearing her sister’s life ebb away. Haley didn’t deserve to have a happy life when her sister had none.

God is good, but he’s not safe.
She remembered Tank’s comment. Ever since Chloe died, she’d been looking for safe. But life was never safe. She knew that now. Maybe that’s why she’d been attracted to photography. She could freeze life just the way she wanted it, pose it to make it perfect. She’d been frozen behind her camera, just like everyone told her—similar to the perpetual winter of Narnia under the rule of the White Witch. She didn’t deserve God’s grace though. She tried to remember what the book had said about the deeper magic. Her fingers were stiff as she pulled it from her pack and shone her light on it.

“It means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep
Magic, there is a deeper magic still which she did not know. Her
knowledge goes back only to the dawn of Time. But if she could
have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness
before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation.
She would have known that when a willing victim who had
committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table
would crack and Death itself would start working backwards.”

Death would start working backwards. Death had dropped into her life at age eight and had warped her life. Could God turn it around and restore the lost years? Haley wanted to find out. She dropped to her knees and opened her heart to the healing warmth of God’s love.

Twenty-Seven

T
he suffocating blanket of dust began to lift. Marley coughed and felt around for Brooke. She touched her small body curled next to Joy. Marley laid her hand over Brooke’s chest. Her heart still beat. She checked Joy and was relieved to find both girls still alive. She grappled with her backpack and found the zipper in the dark. There was another flashlight in there. Her fingers closed on the cold, hard metal, and she withdrew the light and flipped it on. Nothing.

She shook it and tried again. The blackness was complete. It was like being locked in a closet with no way out. She stuffed her knuckles into her mouth to keep from crying out. They were going to die in here. No one knew where they were. This hateful wilderness. It had taken her sister; now it was going to take her and Brooke. She had to try, though. They couldn’t just curl up here and die of starvation and thirst.

She felt in her pack for a bottle of water. There it was. She pulled it out and uncapped it, then ran her hands up Brooke’s body until she found her lips. “Come on, sweet girl, wake up.” She dribbled some water into Brooke’s mouth. The little girl coughed and sputtered.

“I want my daddy,” she wailed.

“Shh, shh, we’ll see Daddy soon.” She hated to lie to the child. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“It’s dark.”

“I know.” She patted Joy’s face and tried to rouse the girl, but Joy refused to respond. She was going to have to leave her here. Marley couldn’t risk sitting here and having another cave-in trap her and Brooke. She stood and took Brooke’s hand. “Come along, Brooke. Let’s see if we can find a way out.” She slid her hand along the wall, and they moved a few feet, then her hand felt emptiness. The tunnel turned here. She felt a draft and wondered if there was more than one tunnel. Shuffling sideways, she waved her hand in the darkness until she felt the opposing wall. Another drift led off here. Which way should she go?

In her mind, she flipped a coin and chose the left drift. Then she heard Joy’s voice crying out in panic. She hesitated, not wanting to go back.

“I want Joy,” Brooke said.

Marley shrugged. “Okay.” She turned toward the way she’d come. “Joy, over here.”

“I’m scared,” Joy sobbed in the darkness. “I can’t see anything.”

“I’ll keep talking. Our flashlight was broken when the ceiling fell. We’re okay though. Just come this way.”

Marley kept up the chatter until she felt Joy’s hand. “Now we’re all together.” At least they’d die together.

Samson strained eagerly at the leash, and Haley knew he’d picked up Brooke’s scent. She let him pull her along until they came to a fork. He yanked her toward the drift that led to where Chloe died. “No, Samson, not that way.” She tried to tug him toward the front entrance, but he planted his feet and barked. Oscar joined the cacophony. “Traitor,” she told him.

Could they have moved from the front? Haley hadn’t considered they might be wandering around in the dark. It was a good thing she’d brought the search dog. She radioed Tank and told him what she was doing, then followed Samson.

She so didn’t want to go down this drift. Though she understood now that God had forgiven her, the thought of reliving the nightmare made her shudder. Her stump ached, but she pressed on. She couldn’t quit now when she was so close.

The dogs stopped and sniffed. Haley swept the ground with the flashlight and saw where the ground had fallen away. Samson stepped cautiously to the edge and looked down. He barked, and Haley gulped. She hoped that didn’t mean Brooke and Joy were down there. She edged around the hole, then swept the light down into the recesses. She moved down the drift, and the dog followed without a complaint. She was tempted to start calling for them. If they were down this drift, surely that meant they’d survived the cave-in and were ambulatory.

The dog began to strain harder at the leash. He barked, then half-dragged her. She stumbled and went down on her stump. The pain encased her knee. She rubbed it and staggered back to her feet. “Joy!” she called. “Brooke, can you hear me? It’s Haley.” She thought she heard something and called again.

Joy’s voice answered her. “Haley? Haley, over here.”

She didn’t need their voices other than for comfort.

Samson knew right where he was going. Her wavering light picked up three figures huddled together against the wall. Joy had blood caked on her forehead, and a bruise marred Brooke’s left cheek, but Haley had never seen a more beautiful sight than the two children. Her gaze went to Marley. Her slacks were filthy and torn.

Joy stood and ran into Haley’s arms while Samson barked with excitement and ran to lick Brooke’s face. She put her arms around him. “Nice doggy,” she said.

Haley stood with her sister in her arms. She’d failed Chloe, but she’d come through for Joy. And she’d faced down her fears. She clung to her sister in a fierce embrace. “Let’s get out of here,” she said. Marley said nothing, but she lifted Brooke in her arms and followed Haley out of the mine.

Tank couldn’t let go of his daughter. She smelled of dirt and dust, but he’d never inhaled a sweeter scent. She held him just as tightly. He opened his other arm and pulled Haley into the circle, then Libby and Joy joined them as well. His family. He’d almost lost them.

Brooke pulled away. “Daddy, you’re squeezing me.”

“Sorry, baby.” He released her, and she wiggled to be let down. “Go play with Samson.”

“He and Oscar found me,” she said. “And Haley.”

“Go thank them.” He patted her on the bottom, and she ran off to squat beside Oscar and pull him onto her lap.

“I can never begin to thank you,” he said, squeezing Haley around the waist.

“You already did.” Her eyes were luminous. “I had to go in there, Tank. I had to face my fears. And I found God was waiting in the darkness.”

“Oh Haley, that’s wonderful!” Libby embraced her. Joy gave her a shy hug as well.

“I discovered something out here waiting too,” Tank said. “I’d trusted in my own strength about so many things. I realized God delights in using the weak and fearful.”

Haley poked him in the ribs. “Are you calling me a weakling?”

Her grin told him she wasn’t offended. “The people who are the strongest are those who know they can’t do anything on their own. You showed your true strength today.” He wished he could kiss her right here in front of everyone, but he didn’t want to embarrass her. They had a lot to discuss.

“I’m ready to go home,” Libby said, yawning hugely. “I don’t think I slept at all last night.”