Page 56 of Falling for the Firefighter
"Yeah." I follow him down, boots ringing against metal. "Pray my father's maps were as accurate as I think they were."
As we descend toward ground level, the fire's roar grows louder, hungry flames consuming everything in their predetermined path. Somewhere ahead of that wall of destruction, twelve people wait for a rescue they don't know is coming.
Scout moves ahead of us as we approach ground level, her nose working constantly to process the chaotic scents of smoke, fear, and approaching danger. She pauses at the base of the tower, looking back at me with the focused intensity she reserves for the most serious operations. Her message is clear: she's ready. Ready to follow me into darkness, into danger, into whatever those tunnels hold.
I check her harness one more time, ensuring every buckle is secure. In the tunnels, we'll need each other more than ever.
Chapter 12
Into the Darkness
The tunnel mouthgapes before us like a wound in the mountainside, dark and forbidding. Fallen timber partially obscures the entrance, nature's half-hearted attempt to reclaim what man carved decades ago.
"This is it?" Mac studies the narrow opening with professional skepticism, already assessing structural integrity and escape routes.
"Silver Creek's secondary access tunnel." I run my fingers along the weathered support beam, feeling the rough grain beneath my skin. Wood groans under the pressure of my touch—a subtle warning that makes my stomach tighten. "Not on any official mining records, but my father mapped it extensively before the operation shut down."
Rodriguez whistles low, shining his tactical flashlight into the darkness. The beam disappears into black nothing, swallowed by stone. "Tight quarters."
"It widens about fifty feet in." I pull my headlamp from my pack, securing it over my hair. The elastic catches on a tangle, and I wince as I work it free. "The initial passage was kept narrow to prevent unauthorized access."
Martinez checks his oxygen meter, frowning at the readings. "Air quality's decent for now, but we should still use emergency breathing apparatus if smoke starts filtering through."
The scent hits me as I step closer to the entrance—earth and rust, the metallic tang of old iron mixed with something deeper.
Decay.
Time.
The weight of the millennium.
The mountain's slow, patient breath exhales decades of stored air. My father's voice echoes in memory:The mountain always tells you what it's thinking if you know how to listen.
Scout approaches the tunnel mouth with visible reluctance, her nose working overtime to process the complex scents emanating from the darkness.
Her hackles rise slightly—not from fear, but from the overwhelming sensory input of a place that holds decades of human activity, mineral deposits, and stagnant air.
She looks back at me once, brown eyes questioning, before settling into her working stance. If I'm going in, she's going in. That's never been a question.
Mac's radio crackles with Sheriff Donovan's voice. "Fire's jumped the ridge line. The main evacuation route is completely compromised. How's that alternative looking?"
"We're proceeding via tunnel extraction."Mac's response is crisp and authoritative. "Estimate thirty to forty minutes to reach the civilians. Will advise when contact is made."
"Copy that. Be advised, air support is grounded due to smoke density and wind conditions. You're on your own down there."
Mac's eyes meet mine over the radio. "We've got this, Sheriff."
The confidence in his voice should sound hollow given the circumstances. Instead, it lands like a promise—not just to Donovan, but to me.
"Team check." Mac turns to our small rescue unit—Rodriguez, Martinez, Burke, and Williams, each loaded with emergency equipment and rescue gear.
The rest of his crew remains on the fireline with Parker, fighting the leading edge of the blaze while we attempt this underground extraction. The division of his forces weighs on him—I can see it in the tension around his eyes, the way his jaw works as he calculates risks on multiple fronts.
"Comms?" he asks.
"Check."
"Check."
