Part 22 (1/2)

Tank leaned over to look down from the window. The sun was already halfway to its zenith, and there was no sign of the plane. Haley sat beside him, watching out the other side. Libby sat between them, which was a good thing, because he could feel the strain and figured Haley could as well.

”Wait, what is that?” Haley said suddenly. She leaned forward and tapped the pilot on the shoulder. ”Go down. There's something floating in the water.”

Tank could see it now. ”This might be it!” He gripped the seat in front of him and watched as the plane swooped lower.

”I see a wing,” Haley called. Her voice quivered.

Tank's stomach matched her voice. ”Please, G.o.d,” he whispered.

Libby's hand found his and squeezed. ”A water landing might have saved them,” she murmured.

”Going in for a landing,” Chet said.

The other trooper grabbed the radio and told the other searchers where to join them. The plane dipped and bounced on the rough ground, then jolted to a stop. Tank exited the plane with Libby and Haley right behind him. Debris floated in the water. He looked frantically around for his daughter. There was no sign of her.

Haley's hand gripped his arm, her nails digging into the flesh of his forearm. ”Tank, look.” With the other hand she pointed to something floating among the weeds along the bank.

He inhaled sharply. A bloated body floated face-down in strands of dead vegetation. It doesn't mean Brooke is dead. He lunged toward the woods. He had to find her. Stumbling a little, Haley ran beside him. ”Brooke!” he screamed. His boot toe hit a rock, and he sprawled onto the sloping riverbank. Barely aware of his fall, he sprang to his feet and began to run again, shouting his daughter's name until he was hoa.r.s.e. He ran the length of the sand, too frantic to look for signs or footprints. ”Brooke, Brooke, my baby girl.” He had to find her. He'd give everything he owned-his job, his home, everything-to feel her small hands gripping his face.

He finally stopped when he was so spent he couldn't run any longer. Hemmed in by trees, he wasn't sure where he was. His face was wet. He wiped it with the back of his sleeve, then turned and realized Haley was still with him. She was crying too. He practically fell into her arms.

She held him tight. ”It will be okay. We'll find her. They're not in the water, so they have to have made it.”

He pulled away, then pulled her into his arms. He kissed her with the desperation of a drowning man. She was the only solid thing in his life right now. The love that welled up surprised him. She kissed him back with a strength and pa.s.sion that made him cling to her all the more. ”I love you,” he murmured in a broken voice. ”I don't want to, but I do. Don't leave me.”

”We'll find them,” she said again. ”Don't say anything you don't mean.”

Did she think it was fear talking? He started to explain, but a shout from over by the water stopped the words.

”Tank, the dogs have a scent.”

”Thank you, G.o.d, thank you,” he muttered. Clutching Haley by the hand, he pulled her with him toward the rest of the searchers. The dogs were milling around. Samson woofed and strained at his leash. ”Let him go,” he said urgently.

Bree nodded and unclipped the leash. ”Search, Samson,” she said. The dog took off with the rest. Even Oscar was in on the quest. His tiny tail wagging, he stayed on Samson's heels.

Still hanging onto Haley, Tank followed Bree and Kade. The searchers fanned out as the dogs raced over the ground undulating with golden gra.s.ses. They seemed to be heading for the closest mountain. The dogs never deviated from their straight course right for the hill. Maybe Brooke, sweet Brooke, would be in his arms before his watch's hands moved to ten o'clock.

He glanced back to see the other searchers dropping behind. Libby was trying to keep up, but Erika and Augusta were at the back of the pack. He faced forward and pressed on to reach his daughter.

The topography looked increasingly familiar to Haley. She told herself it couldn't be the site of the old dig. It couldn't. But the panic fluttered more and more madly in her chest as they neared the mountain. She'd come so far in facing her fears, her nightmares. G.o.d couldn't be cruel enough to pit her against the one thing she couldn't bear. She looked back at the rest of the group. She wanted her grandmother, but Augusta was back a good quarter of a mile.

Tank still had her fingers gripped tightly. She tried to pull away, but he seemed oblivious to her state of mind. She jerked her fingers free. ”Go on, I'll catch up.”

He glanced at her leg and nodded. ”Hurry.” He took off again.

Haley rubbed her knee. The mad run across the uneven ground had taken its toll, but her real reason for lagging behind loomed in front of her. It was the place of her nightmares. She'd vowed never to come here again. Never. She stumbled to her knees and stared. The opening to the mine yawned like the mouth of h.e.l.l.

Shuddering, she clutched her arms around her. Feeling as old as Augusta, she finally got to her feet. Forcing herself forward, she kept her gaze on the mouth of the mine. She reached the rest of the group in time to see Samson run to the opening. Barking, he dashed inside, but not so far she couldn't still see his tail swis.h.i.+ng. Tank ducked inside, but the suns.h.i.+ne still illuminated his broad back.

He uttered a frustrated shout. ”It's blocked! There's been a cave-in.”

Haley stumbled and nearly fell again. ”No,” she whispered. She moved forward in a dreamlike trance. Her sister was in there, not Chloe this time, but Joy. Though they'd barely had a chance to get to know one another, she loved the young girl already. Hard and fast, the memories slammed into her.

Tank turned and saw her. ”What is it?”

Haley marshaled every ounce of courage she could find. She wasn't the same little girl who had cowered in the dark twenty years ago. She'd learned to walk again with one leg, learned to take the hard knocks that came her way. She could do this. She had to do this. She met Tank's gaze. ”I know another way in.”

His face changed, and hope glimmered in his eyes. ”Show me.”

She led the way around the side of the hill. Clambering over rocks and loose shale, she pulled shrubs and vegetation away from the opening. ”This leads to the main drift.” She took off her backpack and stuffed her jacket inside.

”What are you doing?”

She felt frozen inside, terrified, but she continued to move toward the dark hole. ”I know the mine. And it takes someone small. You're too big to get through in many places. I might even be too big, but I have to try. Give me a flashlight.” He pressed a flashlight into her hands. ”If we get stuck, I'll read her book to her. It's in my backpack.”

”You're not getting stuck.” Tank gripped her shoulders. ”I'll never forget this, Haley. You be careful. I don't want to lose you too.”

She stared into his face. ”Pray, Tank.”

”I haven't stopped.”

Huffing and puffing, Augusta reached them. Her gaze took in Haley with the flashlight, then wandered to the mine opening. ”You're not going in there.”

”I have to, Augusta. The other opening has caved in. I have to look for them.”

”You're not strong enough to do this, Haley,” Augusta said quietly.

”I know, but I have to.” Haley closed her eyes and inhaled Augusta's sweet scent. She pulled away. ”I'm the only one who knows where the mine goes. It has to be me.” Fear contorted Augusta's face. ”I'll be okay. Pray.”

”I will.”

”I can go,” Bree said. ”Samson will lead me right to them.”

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.