Mike swallowed hard.

  And, you know, let’s say some prayers. That’s all I got. Good night.

  He’d said, “Good night,” but he knew it would be one of the worst nights possible, especially for the three missing kids.

  “IS HE ALIVE?” SWANN WHISPERED DOWN TO KELTON. Hunter had finally stopped moving, stopped holding back his scream against the pain.

  Kelton checked his breathing and nodded. He picked up the flashlight. “I’m going to throw this up to you. That way you can shine it down on me for better light while I have my hands free.”

  Swann laughed a little. “I’m not the best catcher. My old school didn’t have much for sports.”

  “I’m terrible at sports too, but you must catch this,” Kelton said. “If it falls and breaks . . . I don’t know . . .”

  He didn’t have to say more. She’d been submerged in the nearly total darkness of the mine. Without the flashlight, none of them would ever get out alive. “You just make sure you don’t throw it against the ceiling down there.”

  “Believe me,” Kelton said, “that’s just what I’ve been thinking.”

  Kelton moved closer to the hole. Swann leaned down over it, reaching out. He’d have to toss that thing about a dozen feet. He took a couple of practice swings, like a golfer before teeing off. “Here it comes.”

  He tossed it up in the air, the flashlight flipping end over end. Light, shadow, light, shadow, light. Dizzying. It was through the hole before her hands. It landed in her palms, but she bobbled it. It fell back toward the hole. Swann dove for it, collapsing to her belly at the edge of the pit and reaching out, catching the fatter lightbulb end of the flashlight in her fingertips. A flick of movement, and she had the thing firmly in hand. She finally let out a breath and whispered, “Sorry about that.”

  Kelton looked down at Hunter, then back up to the hole. “It must be over twelve feet. He can’t climb. I can’t climb and carry him.” Kelton pointed to the rock wall at the close end of the lower chamber. “Shine the light over here.” He ran his hands over the rock face. “Yeah. Can’t climb this. Even if I could, the hole is back, like, two feet from the wall.” He let out a breath and his hands clapped to his sides. “In the movies, these mines always have train tracks and little open cars. But no rails so far.”

  Swann watched him, feeling more and more hopeless, keeping the flashlight beam shined on him as he walked about. The flashlight bumped one of the wooden poles that used to be the side of the ladder.

  Just as the flashlight hit the pole, the idea hit her. Was it possible? “Kelton, remember when we were partners in science?”

  “What?” Kelton asked, sounding annoyed.

  “Pulley. And ramp,” she said. “Kelton, listen. “You were talking about rails. These poles could be our rails. And we . . . we . . . It will make it easier for us to pull him up, maybe keep him from moving around too much.”

  “We don’t have a pulley,” Kelton pointed out. “I only brought twelve feet of rope. It’s not long enough for you to pull on and for me to tie to Hunter.”

  The light glinted off a worn snap on Hunter’s discarded snowmobile suit. “Clothes! Kelton, we use Hunter’s snowmobile suit. You can tie his to mine.”

  “Hmm,” Kelton said. “Might be long enough.”

  “When the clothes rope is tied to the real rope and to Hunter, I pull, you lift and push, sliding him up the rails. Once he’s up . . .” Then what?

  “Once he’s up, I’ll tie the rope to me. You pull, I’ll try to climb the rails. There are nubs of rungs in a few places.” Kelton smiled.

  Swann smiled back. It was the first tiny bit of hope they’d had. “All right,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

  A FEW MINUTES LATER, KELTON HAD FASHIONED A LOOP out of Hunter’s snowmobile suit, tying it tight under Hunter’s arms. He tied Swann’s to that, twisting each garment like a rope. Both legs of each suit would be twisted together and stronger, same for the arms. It was hard to tie the outfits together like that, especially with his cold, slightly numb fingers, but he wanted this rope to be strong. To the clothes section, he tied the real rope, doubling the knots, making them tight. If this improvised rope tore apart, that was it. Swann would have to go for help, and that would only place her in terrible danger. Plus if the rope broke and Hunter fell again, this time onto his broken leg, who knew how bad it would be for him then? It might kill him.

  “Are you ready for this, Higgins?” Kelton said, leaning over Hunter, who’d regained consciousness. It took a while, and it had caused Hunter a lot of pain, but Kelton helped him move to the two poles they hoped to use as rails. Hunter’s face was red and sweat beaded on his forehead despite the deep chill in the mine.

  With Hunter secure, Kelton tried to toss the other end, the real rope end, up to Swann. It took a few tries, but eventually Swann caught it. She gripped it hard. Mom and Dad had always encouraged her to be a strong girl, but Swann figured they mostly meant she should be smart, confident, and willing to try new things. This was definitely a new thing, but she doubted very much that she had the physical strength to pull up a boy who weighed at least as much as, if not more than, she did.

  Still, they’d rigged a sort of ramp, a rickety and very steep one, but it would help. And Kelton would be lifting.

  “Hey,” she said to the boys. “I’m going to tie my end around myself. Then I’ll lift by backing away from the hole.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Kelton said. “Everybody ready?”

  Swann wasn’t ready. She’d never be ready for something like this. Who could be? Police or firemen, maybe. Strong people trained for rescue. No, she was not ready. More than anything, she wanted to be back home, under a blanket in her hanging chair up in her beautiful tower library. How had she ever complained about coming to Idaho? How had she ever complained about anything before? Everything had been great compared to this.

  “Ready, I guess,” Swann said.

  “You can do this, Swann,” Kelton’s voice echoed from below. It sounded like he was talking to her from the other end of a pipe. “You’re tough. I knew that from the first second I saw you. You say go, and we go, go, go. No stopping until Hunter’s up there.”

  Did he really think she looked tough? No. That was just one of those sports pep talks guys seemed to like so much, stuff coaches said. Just DO this, Swann! Stop worrying about stupid boy stuff. “Ready. Set. Go!” Swann dug her feet in deep, slipping on the rocks, trying to find a good foothold, but finally she took a step back. Another step.

  “I got you, Higgins,” Kelton grunted. “Up you go.”

  The load lightened a little and Swann stepped back, back, back, the rope tied around her waist, her left hand pulling on the line ahead of her. She looked for a handhold. Something she could grab on to with her free hand to pull. Even with the flashlight placed upright on the floor, shining up to the ceiling to light everything above the hole, the room remained dark. The entrance to the chamber was still a solid five feet away. Hunter had to come up a lot higher than five feet.

  “Got a foothold here, get ready for a big push,” Kelton said. Hunter only groaned in pain.

  The line relaxed, and Swann pulled ahead at least two feet. The rope was tight around her belly, making it hard to breathe. Her legs burned as she churned, forcing one step, then another. “Ple-ease,” she groaned.

  The rope gave a little more. She reached her free arm out, a foot or less from the chamber entrance. There was a big lip of rock there she could grab and pull. Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t do this. But she had to do this. And it hurt so bad. Her whole body burned, muscles tight, pushing.

  “Whoa!” Kelton shouted. “No, no! Hold on!”

  The rope yanked at her gut and she slid on the rock. “Kelton!” She fell for a moment, sliding along the floor toward the hole, until she got back to her feet, counterbalanced by the rope.

  “Got you!” Kelton said. “Sorry, man. I know that hurts.” To Swann he called, “Sorry. I slipped there. Let’s keep going.”

  Sweat beaded on her forehead and back. She bit her lip until she thought it would bleed. “I can’t keep this up,” she said through gritted teeth. She’d almost killed Hunter, nearly dropping him like that.

  He doesn’t think you’re tough. He thinks you’re a rich, spoiled SuperPop who’s never worked and is helpless to do anything. Lots of people around town feel the same. Is that who you want to be? Forever your daddy’s precious fragile princess?

  “I . . . kill . . . the princess,” Swann growled. Two steps. Her thighs flared with stabbing pain now.

  Her fingers brushed the rocks at the edge of the chamber entrance, but slipped off. She groaned or gasped or cried and forced a big step. Then another.

  “Got it,” she hissed as she gripped the cold edge of the rock. Holding the rock allowed her to take some of the strain off her legs, to give them a little rest for a moment.

  “I got a toehold in this hole on one of the poles,” Kelton said in a strained voice. “Hang in there, Higgins, get my shoulder under you here to push up.”

  “Dude,” Hunter choked out through the pain. “Did you just tell me to hang in there?”

  Swann burst a short laugh and nearly slipped off the handhold. “Don’t make me laugh, idiots!”

  “I can almost reach the ceiling,” Hunter said.

  Swann dug in and step, pulled, stepped, along the wall outside the chamber. The wall was good. She could brace her feet and back against it like a brake, so she couldn’t be pulled back.

  “Can’t help much anymore,” Kelton said. “Hunter, can you reach—”

  “Got it!” Hunter said. He made a sound like a mix of a baby’s cry and a deflating balloon. “Hurtsobad. Got. Top of hole.” More grunting, whimpering. “Can’t pull. I can’t.”

  “Come on, SuperPop!” Kelton called. “You have to help him. Pretend there’s a grand opening at the mall. You just gotta get there.”

  Swann pulled the rope and stepped hard. “Hate you, Kel!” She wasn’t stupid. She knew what he was trying to do. She was supposed to get all angry at him and show him how wrong he was by pulling Hunter up. Swann screamed. She stepped and clawed at the wall for new handholds to pull until her fingers bled. Tears and sweat ran down her cheeks. It would never end. Just the burn of lifting all this weight, and the pain of the rope and rocks cutting into her.

  The rope jerked ahead. Swann took a few panicked steps forward, fearing she was slipping and Hunter falling.

  “Stop! Swann, stop!” Hunter called.

  “What?” she screeched.

  “Stop! I’m up,” Hunter said. “Oh, oh man. This hurts so bad. But I’m up.”

  Swann dropped to the cold rocky floor in the dark, and sighed. She thought for a second that they should be cheering, celebrating this next-to-impossible rescue. But they were all fried.

  “It will be easier to pull me up,” Kelton’s voice echoed through the mine like a ghost. “I promise.”

  She wanted to cry. Back in the chamber, Hunter lay on his back next to the hole, his eyes squeezed shut. There were tears on his face, but tears of pain. She wouldn’t say he was crying.

  So what if he did cry? Big deal. They were in a miserable situation. She wanted to cry too, even at the risk of fostering a fragile princess reputation. She ran her good hand over Hunter’s damp forehead. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m alive,” he whispered.

  “Not sure if I am,” she said, freeing the rope from its loop around Hunter’s chest. She tossed the free end down to Kelton, who looked back up at her with concern. “Are you OK?”

  Swann shrugged. “Ready?”

  “It will be easier this time, Swann. I promise. I figured out some climbing tricks, plus I have my arms and both my legs, and I’m not fighting against Hunter’s pain.” His expression changed. He had dropped all of the sports-style pep talks. He wasn’t trying to trick her with the reverse psychology. “Hey, you know. I was kinda kidding about that rich spoiled stuff.” It was hard to see, as it was so dark down there, but she swore his cheeks flared red. Maybe that was from the work of lifting Hunter. Maybe it was something else. “I said that ’cause I thought, you know, if you got mad . . .” He trailed off as Swann laughed. “What?” he asked.

  “You really think you’re that slick?” she asked him, still laughing. “Like I couldn’t crack the code on your sneaky trick?”

  “Oh.” Kelton looked down, his face hidden in the dark. “Sorry. That was pretty stupid. I don’t know what I’m doing, I guess. Just trying to help best I can. Your awesome plan worked. For Hunter, at least.”

  Swann stopped laughing. Oh, he thought she was making fun of him. He probably had a lot of experience with that, had come to expect it. “Kelton, I was just joking around with you. Not everything’s an insult. I couldn’t have pulled Hunter up here without you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m kind of cold and would like to get you up here so we can all go back by the fire.”

  The two of them exchanged another long look before Kelton nodded and tied the rope around his chest under his arms. Then Swann pulled and Kelton did his best to climb. The hard part was when he’d slip a little, and the rope would jerk her back. But Kelton had been right. It was much easier bringing him up to their level than it had been lifting Hunter.

  When he was up, Swann put on her snowmobile suit, and then she and Kelton helped Hunter through the painful process of putting his on, keeping it as loose as possible around his injury by unzipping the bottom of the leg. Finally they all lay on the ground, filthy, aching, exhausted, and freezing.

  “OK,” Swann finally said. “That’s problem number one million solved. What’s next?”

  CHAPTER 13

  RETURNING TO THE ENTRY TUNNEL, KELTON AND SWANN worked to build the fire back up. Kelton had dragged the big ladder poles out there, so they’d have a lot more firewood. He doubted it would be quite enough, but they’d already had too much dangerous mine exploration and they’d have to make do with what they had. But even with a good fire going, the cold of the frostbitten night wouldn’t let go of them.

  “We have to close the tunnel entrance, or this fire won’t do us any good,” Kelton said. “Wind and snow coming in. I don’t know what time it is.”

  Swann checked her phone. “It’s nine thirty-two.”

  “A long time until daylight when we can try to get out of here,” Kelton said.

  Hunter lay shivering on his back, face scrunched up in pain, on the side of the fire away from the entrance, off to one edge of the tunnel to avoid the trickle of water from the floor ice the fire had melted.

  “Snow wall?” Swann suggested.

  Kelton smiled at her. “I was about to say the same thing.” He looked at the snowy entrance and flexed his chilled stiff fingers in his gloves. “This is going to be a cold job.”

  “I’ll help you,” Swann said.

  On a different night, it would have been easy to seal it off with a snow wall. But the bitter freeze didn’t make for good snowman-ready packing snow. They could pile all the powder they wanted. It would never stand up as a wall. But by mixing the powder into a watery slush on the cave floor and using an upside-down snowmobile seat as a shovel, the two of them built a decent barrier.

  The work dragged on, cold and cruel. The mine entrance wasn’t very wide and a few times Kelton and Swann bumped together as they slopped on the slush. “Sorry,” Kelton said as their shoulders touched while they packed in another section of the pre-ice mix.

  Swann met his gaze and let out a shivering little giggle. “It’s OK,” she whispered. “It warms me up, a little.”

  What was he supposed to say to that? A Popular would know. They all spoke the same language, somehow gifted from birth to know the coolest things to say.

  “Happy to help,” he said. You’re an idiot, Kelton. He changed the subject quickly. “We can’t close the entrance all the way.” He removed his freezing wet gloves to stretch his icy fingers by the fire. “Or we’ll run out of air. Plus we gotta let the smoke out.”

  “Are you doing OK, Hunter?” Swann said.

  Kelton looked away for a moment, trying to push away that weird feeling . . . what was it? . . . an imbalance, the awkward sense that he wasn’t standing right or appearing the way he should, the idea of being out of place, in the way. What was the big deal if Swann talked to Hunter? The Pops stuck together with Pops. That’s the way it was.

  “Hurts so bad,” Hunter whimpered. “So cold.”

  Swann looked to Kelton with worry. “Should we move him closer to the fire?”

  “We move him much closer, he might end up burned.” Kelton watched the guy. “I’m worried about him going into shock.”

  “I saw about that on a movie once, but I don’t know what it is,” Swann said. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “I don’t know either,” Kelton confessed. “It was just part of the treat-a-casualty video I was talking about. Shock is bad, I guess. People can die from it.”

  Swann motioned to him like, So what do we do?

  Kelton took a deep breath, trying to remember. “It seemed to me like a lot of the treatment things on the video were the same. We want the blood flowing through him good. So we loosen his clothing. And we gotta elevate his legs.”

  “No,” Hunter moaned. “Don’t move my—”

  “Elevate his good leg.” Kelton handed Swann his snowmobile seat, and she carefully propped his good leg up on it.

  “So . . . what? We unzip his snowmobile suit?” Swann asked.

  Kelton put some more wood on the fire. “Yeah. And we try to get it warmer in here.” He took off his own coat, once Swann had unzipped Hunter’s suit, and draped it over the guy like a blanket.

  “Kel, you’re going to freeze,” Swann said. “You’ve already had enough trouble with that.”

  Kelton kicked at a small stone on the floor, his cheeks a little hot after she used the nickname. “You and Hunter saved me. Now I have to help.”

  Swann looked at him a long time. Finally she patted the cold ground right beside her. “Come sit here,” she said. “It’ll be a little warmer if, you know, if we’re not so far apart.”

 

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