Page 18 of Cheyenne

Micah moved toward the coffin.

“No.” She blocked his path, her voice sharp. “We can’t disturb her grave. It’s wrong.”

“What if the necklace is the key to the map?” he argued, his voice low but urgent. “This is why we’re here.”

Her hands trembled, and she looked away. “I don’t like this, Micah. Let’s go back.”

Micah hesitated, torn between her pleading eyes and the surge of adrenaline coursing through him. But treasure fever had its grip on him. Gritting his teeth, he placed his shoulder under the coffin lid and pushed.

The lid shifted.

Cheyenne gasped, her flashlight trembling as the beam landed inside. Amidst crumbling bones lay the amulet necklace, its facets gleaming like it held secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Above them, faint footsteps echoed across the church floor.

Micah froze. “Someone’s up there.”

Cheyenne’s voice shook. “We have to go.”

Micah stared at the necklace, his mind racing. Would they take it? Or was it better left where it rested, guarding its secrets for another day?

CHAPTER 9

Cheyenne

Cheyenne couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Here was another lead, after the others had given up. And she had found it.

Then someone called out, “Hey, who is down there?”

“Grab it,” Micah commanded, his voice low and urgent.

Despite the short time they’d known each other, she obeyed him instinctively. Maybe it was the commanding tone in his voice, or maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Either way, her fingers trembled as she reached into the coffin, the cold metal of the amulet necklace brushing against her skin.

Her grip tightened around the clasp. As she tugged, brittle bones shifted and gave way beneath her touch. She stifled a scream, clenching her jaw tightly as her heart pounded in her ears.

“Who’s down there? Is someone down there?” a voice echoed from above, sharp and alarmed.

Cheyenne yanked the necklace free, the bones rattling softly as they settled back into place.

Micah quietly lowered the coffin lid, then gestured toward the exit. “Let’s move.”

They hurried out of the crypt, retracing their steps to the barred gate. Micah slid the key back into place, turning it carefully before hanging it on the wall where they’d found it. He adjusted the lock and checked it twice.

The voices above grew louder. “Who would be down there?”

Micah took Cheyenne’s hand, his grip firm. “This way. I think there’s another way out.”

Cheyenne hesitated. “Why would there be another way out?”

Micah didn’t slow down, pulling her along. “I’ve walked the cemetery before. Some of these graves connect to the crypts below. Trust me.”

She followed reluctantly, dodging rats and stepping over scattered bones, keeping her flashlight low. Her stomach churned as the smell of damp earth and decay thickened in the narrow passageways. The sound of voices and footsteps reverberated through the tunnels behind them.

“I think we should go down there and check it out,” one of the voices called, echoing ominously.

Micah rounded a corner and stopped abruptly. Cheyenne nearly collided into him. He pointed upward, his flashlight illuminating a ladder that disappeared into the darkness above.

“That’ll take us out,” he said.

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