Page 64 of Silent Grave

"I said shut up," Finn snapped.

"Did you know fear changes how we perceive time?" Peter continued, ignoring Finn. "In complete darkness, with no reference points, the mind begins to... drift. Hours feel like minutes. Or days." He touched another cross. "Michelle understands that now. Just like Tyler did. Just like Marcus—though he never got to complete his lesson."

A sound echoed through the tunnels—maybe a voice, maybe just settling rock. But it seemed to come from somewhere above them.

"That's impossible," Finn said. "We've been heading down."

"Sound plays tricks down here," Peter said. "The tunnels are like a living thing, carrying voices in unexpected ways." He paused at another junction. "Would you like to follow that sound? Try to trace it to its source?" His smile widened slightly. "Or would you like me to show you the actual path to Michelle?"

Sheila studied him in her flashlight beam. Every instinct screamed that he was leading them deeper into his trap. But that collapse had been real. The hollow sound of unstable ground had been real.

How many other death traps waited in the darkness? And how long did Michelle have before she stumbled into one of them?

"Which way?" she asked finally.

Peter's smile widened. "That depends," he said softly, "on how much more you're willing to learn about darkness."

Sheila kept her weapon trained on Peter's back as they moved deeper into the tunnel system. The air grew noticeably heavier, and the walls seemed to press closer. Their flashlight beams caught more crosses carved into the rock, appearing more frequently now.

"The main shaft intersects here," Peter said, stopping at another junction. "The original miners used to—"

"I don't care about mining history," Sheila cut him off. "Where's Michelle?"

"But you should care," Peter said mildly. "Understanding is important. For instance, do you know why they abandoned this section?" He gestured to a tunnel branching off to their left. "Three men died here in '61. The company claimed it was unstable ground, but really..." He smiled. "Really, they found something they didn't want anyone to know about."

"What are you talking about?" Finn asked despite himself.

"Rich copper deposits. Still untapped. My father helped cover it up—he was good at covering things up." Peter traced a cross carved into the wall. "The company found it was cheaper to extract ore illegally, off the books. No safety regulations, no union wages." He turned to face them. "Did you think I was the only one with secrets down here?"

Another sound echoed through the tunnels—closer this time. A cry, perhaps, or just the mountain settling.

"This way," Peter said, starting down the right-hand tunnel.

They'd gone perhaps fifty yards when Peter stopped suddenly. "Listen."

A faint sound carried through the darkness—metal creaking under strain. Peter smiled. "Interesting."

"What is it?" Sheila demanded, her voice tight with apprehension. A cold trickle of sweat ran down her spine.

"That support beam—" He gestured upward with his chin. "The one holding up this entire section. I've been... experimenting with its load-bearing capacity."

The creaking grew louder. Sheila's heart hammered against her ribs as fine debris began sifting down from above, sparkling in her flashlight beam like deadly snow.

"One more thing about these tunnels," Peter said softly. "Sound isn't the only thing that travels in unexpected ways. Vibrations, too. For instance—" He stamped his foot hard against the ground.

The effect was immediate. The creaking turned to groaning as decades-old timbers shifted above them. Dust and small rocks showered down.

"Stop," Sheila ordered, unable to completely mask the fear in her voice, but Peter was already moving.

He spun with startling speed, shouldering into Finn before either of them could react. The impact sent Finn staggering backward just as a larger rock crashed down between them. More followed, cutting off their line of sight to Peter.

Sheila grabbed Finn's arm, pulling him back as more debris rained down. The tunnel was collapsing in slow motion, the ancient support structure finally giving way.

"He's getting away!" Finn shouted over the noise.

A scream echoed through the tunnels—closer now, more distinct than before. It was followed by another cry, this one unmistakably Michelle's voice, coming from the right passage.

"Michelle first," Sheila said, fighting to keep her voice steady as the mountain seemed to groan around them. "We have to—"

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