Death is Forever

marked openings?” he asked.
    Erin turned in the opposite direction and looked. All she noticed was a distinct cool breeze.
    “No more numbers, but there’s a lot of air moving.”
    “Probably because there’s a lot of water coming in and pushing the air out of the way.”
    “What?”
    “Listen,” Cole said. “That’s not thunder. Somewhere up ahead there’s at least one cascade or waterfall pouring from the ceiling down to whatever passes for the floor around here.”
    Shivering, she stood and listened.
    “You’re cold,” he said.
    “I’ve been a lot colder and survived just fine.”
    He hesitated, then accepted her judgment of her own physical limits. “We’d better get going. I don’t know how much longer we have down here.”
    “Which way?”
    He pointed to the wall. “See that arrow? We go in the opposite direction.”
    “Why?”
    “In a cave or a mine, all arrows point to the way out. ”
    She walked closer to the arrow and made a sound of surprise. “It looks like it was just made.”
    “When it comes to rocks, a decade or two isn’t much time.”
    Cole turned and began walking against the arrow. After thirty feet it was clear that somewhere ahead water was pouring in faster than it could drain out. A thin puddle appeared on the floor. Within twenty feet, the water was over his shoes.
    “Don’t trust the footing,” he said. “There could be potholes underneath this puddle deep enough to drown in.” He stopped and turned toward her. “You can swim, can’t you?”
    “Yes, but I’d rather not. This water isn’t getting any warmer.”
    “Do you want—”
    “No,” she said, cutting across his words. “I don’t want to go back. I want to see Abe’s jewel box.”
    “We may be walking over it right now.”
    Instantly Erin’s light flashed down to the water lapping over her feet. “Do you really think so?”
    “Maybe, but not likely. I don’t see any piles of rubble. Mining, even placer mining, is a messy process.”
    Accompanied by the steadily increasing thunder of distant water, they splashed through the broad, shallow puddle. He was careful to stay within sight of the wall and its arrows until the #2 opening appeared. The prospect of crawling through it wasn’t inviting. The opening was small. The water was at least six inches deep and flowing with a pronounced current.
    “Well?” she asked as she came to stand beside Cole.
    “It’s flowing away from us.”
    “So?”
    He shrugged. “So I expected it to be flowing toward the sound of falling water, which is behind us.”
    With that he dropped to his hands and knees and began to crawl, cursing steadily.
    She followed without hesitating. A few minutes later she understood why he was swearing so savagely. The ceiling came to within a foot of the floor and the sides of the tube closed in until his shoulders audibly scraped both sides.
    “Can you make it through?” she called.
    His only answer was a grunt, followed by splashing and another round of curses as the tunnel took a hard bend to the left. He jackknifed through it and found himself in easier going. The ceiling lifted again. Soon he was standing upright, but sideways. The solution channel was so narrow that his shoulders wouldn’t fit any other way.
    The sound of falling water filled the narrow space, but only a few trickles showed in the lantern light. Twelve feet farther down the channel, another ladder appeared. It led up through another long narrow shaft that had been widened at one point by rushing water. The ladder was wet with runoff.
    “Wait until I’m up top before you start climbing,” Cole said.
    He put his weight onto the first gleaming metal rung. The opening of the crack was so narrow there was no worry about the ladder twisting and banging him against stone. Water poured over an unseen lip above, drenching the ladder with an insistent shower.
    Fourteen rungs later, his helmet light picked up another opening in the slowly dissolving limestone. He rolled out of the hole and called down to Erin.
    “Come on up.”
    Her helmet light went out halfway up. Instantly he shined his own light over the rim. When her shoulders and the rucksack poked above the hole, he lifted her free, removed her helmet, and lit the flame. She gave a broken sigh of relief.
    “I was afraid it wasn’t going to work again,” she admitted in a shaky voice.
    “That might happen, honey. Too damn much water.” He hesitated. “We should go back.”
    “We have plenty