He jumped into the darkness and navigated his way down the piles of trash and debris until he found firm footing. Straight ahead, running along the length of Old Harbor Drive that crossed Tenth Street, was a tunnel that was barely big enough for him to crouch and walk through. He then turned and called up. "Ainsley, you're next."
Dash reached up to catch her as she jumped down, but got a surprise when he realized that Alex was already there, arms up, helping Ainsley down into the tunnel.
His squadmate set the petite reporter down and asked, "You okay?"
She nodded up and smiled. "All good, Scarecrow. Let's do this."
Chapter Thirty-One
Harper
Not waiting to see whether she'd successfully knocked the square-jawed man unconscious, Harper seized the moment when Opal's grip let up on her arms. Pearl, oddly, had already let go completely.
Harper grabbed a stray flashlight in the kerfuffle and, pushing down all her worst fears, flew toward the opening in the wall.
I'm not afraid of this. This can't hurt me. I'm safe. I'm going to be okay, she repeated to herself as she ran.
Ignoring the sounds of Opal and Pearl scrambling to their feet behind her and the sound of creatures scurrying in the earth ahead of her, Harper ran as fast as she could, trying not to think about what sorts of filth she might be stepping into with her bare feet.
Bearings, get your bearings. Where are you?
Without slowing down, she forced herself to think. To remember the surroundings when Opal had opened the door at the top of the steps. The basement door had faced the front entrance on Old Harbor Drive. That means she was headed north. If this was the tunnel she thought it was—and what else could it be—she should be able to run straight to the river…as long as the rubble from the sinkhole didn't block her way.
Her only other choice was to hope against hope that not every basement along the route had already bricked in its tunnel access.
But she knew better than to count on that.
The smell of damp earth was beginning to make her ill the more she ran. She needed to slow down and catch her breath. That would have been a bad idea, as she heard footsteps behind her. Two sets of footsteps. Maybe even three.
Shit.
Using her flashlight, she counted all the bricked-in access points along the way. If she kept going that way, she would run straight into the area of the sinkhole.
She had no idea how bad it was, if she could even gain access through the rubble, or trash, or whatever else had been thrown in there in the weeks since it appeared, but she had to try.
If I turn off my flashlight, I'll lose them.
Switching off the light, she continued on, barreling straight ahead in the dark, praying for no errant tree stumps, snakes, or worse.
As soon as she switched off her light, she saw shadows in dim light. Multiple shadows. Big shadows.
Harper tasted fire in the back of her throat, knowing that this was the end.
The bad people were coming. She was surrounded. Girardi soldiers coming from one side. Russos bringing up the rear, whoever the hell the Russos were.
This was it.
Stopping, she rested her hand against the earthen wall and doubled over to catch her breath.
What a waste, she thought. All these people were going after some legendary mafia loot that probably never existed in the first place. They were likely to meet in the middle and shoot each other here in the tunnels, and she would be caught in the crossfire.
She fought back tears and talked out loud to herself, "What a stupid way for me to die. There is no treasure, and when I don't find it, they'll kill me. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid way to die."
It was then that she began hearing voices in her head.
"Harper?!"
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She was so tired, cold, and frightened, she heard voices. She was hearing Dash.
He would never know what happened to her. Just like those other girls taken from Dockside. Maybe even Pearl and Opal were doing all of this against their will. Who was to say? Nobody would ever find any of them.
Unable to hold back sobs, her knees gave out, and she slumped to the dirt floor.
She hoped, if nothing else, that Dash would be able to move on and live a happy life. She hoped her moms would reach out to him and stay in touch. She hoped he went on to have a dozen fat babies and live to be a hundred years old or more with some other woman. Someone who would help him see his worth.
She hoped, because that's all there was left to do.
Closing her eyes, she braced for whatever might happen next.
Footsteps approached, closer and closer. Someone shouted. "She's here!"
That sounded weirdly like Ainsley. Now Harper felt delusional. Claustrophobia was making her nuts, now.
Then another voice rang out, "Cover them! They have guns!"
Her instinct was to sit up, but as her mind told her that this was reality and not a hallucination, she rolled over and covered her head. Something heavy fell on top of her.
Shots rang out in the dark, and she screamed.
More screams echoed through the tunnel and more shouting. So many people, so much shooting and screaming, and the sounds of bodies hitting the dirt.
She recognized the smell, the scruff of the beard against her neck, the voice.
"Dash! What the fuck are you doing down here? They're going to kill you!" Harper squeaked.
"Harper! I'm begging you for once in your life, be still and listen." He didn't sound angry. He didn't sound put out, annoyed, or frustrated. He was begging.
For once, she did as he said.
Minutes passed. Thank god for no more gunshots, Harper thought. People grappled with each other. Others cried out for help. The sounds of struggling and crying filled the tunnel and Harper prayed nobody was dead.
An authoritative voice called out: "Area secured. I
