One Mile Under

She wanted to scream for joy.

 

She was in the river. Probably directly underneath the dam. Her legs bounced off the silty bottom. She propelled herself up. It wasn’t far. She broke through the surface, even brighter light all around her now, knifing at her eyes. She gasped—beautiful, sweet air entered her lungs. She was too exhausted to be ecstatic. She coughed and gasped and dragged herself over to the shore. She crawled along the pebbly bank, rolling onto her back and letting the sun wash over her. Beautiful and warming. She was free. She looked up and saw the dam about fifty yards behind her. And then she felt fear again. What if they realized she had escaped? What if they were looking for her? But then, exhausted, unable to summon the will to do anything about it, she shut her eyes. She was still breathing heavily and her arms were too tired to move. She should probably find some cover. Just in case they came after her. But she couldn’t move. She just lay there, she didn’t know for how long—exhausted and spent, pinned to the soggy soil. Inside she was joyously laughing.

 

She’d made it.

 

But then she felt the sun blocked out on her face. She opened her eyes, feeling someone there, panic rising up in her all over again, and she saw a figure shadowed in the glare standing over her. Instinctively she pushed herself back in the sand.

 

No. Don’t let it be them. Please don’t let it be them. Please …

 

“Are you all right, lady?”

 

Dani looked through the glare.

 

It was a boy. Two boys. Standing over her. Fuzzy through the haze. Maybe thirteen or fourteen. With fishing rods.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

“Yes,” she said, barely able to spit out the words. “I’m all right. I’m all right. Do you have a phone?”

 

“I do,” one of them said. He went in his pocket.

 

“Dial this number.” She racked her brain to recall it from the screen. “Nine-one-seven. Three-two-four. Six-nine, six-zero. Please.”

 

Her head fell back. As the consciousness rolled out of her.

 

Ty’s number.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

 

 

The motion of the car jostled her awake. Dani blinked open her eyes and looked out the window, trying to get her bearings. She moved with a sudden start, not sure for a moment where she was, and then spun, staring.

 

Ty was behind the wheel.

 

“It’s okay.” He reached over and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “You’re with me.”

 

She blinked alarm still in her eyes. “Where are we?” she asked, trying to clear her head. She tried to put together the last thing she recalled.

 

Two boys.

 

“On our way home. We’re just heading up into the mountains. How are you doing?”

 

“I’m fine.” She nodded fuzzily. “Fine.”

 

It all tumbled back to her. The tank. Robertson. The conduit leading to the river. It scared her all over again. She shook her head in defiance. “Ty, we can’t go home,” she said, pushing herself up. Every muscle in her body ached. “Robertson. He tried to kill me. He had someone with him. His boss, I think. From Alpha. Or RMM.” She described the man with the high forehead and balding top.

 

“McKay.” Hauck nodded. “He was the head of his unit back in Iraq.”

 

“They basically admitted to killing Trey. They also said they tried to kill you, too. They threw me in this tank and let the water in. It filled all the way up. It was terrifying, Uncle Ty. You don’t know what I had to do to get out.”

 

“You’re safe now,” he reassured her again. “You’re with me.”

 

She could see they were on I-80 west of Denver, heading into the mountains. The last thing she remembered was clawing her way out of the river to the bank. The sun in her face. Then the fear back again. Someone standing over her. The boys. She looked at Hauck. She nodded, for the first time really trusting that she was safe. “I knew you would come.”

 

“You did it. I followed you from what you said on the phone. I only wish I had gotten there sooner.”

 

“I told them you would. Ty, please, we can’t just go back.” She faced him. “You don’t know what they did to me. They almost killed me. I can’t believe I’m even alive.”

 

“It’s not even up for conversation, Dani. You’re out of it now. It’s my fault. I never meant to put you in any danger. I should never have let you stay.”

 

“I’m all right. I am. It’s just—” She tried to sit up, but her head ached and she still felt in a daze. She sat back and tried to clear her brain; remember all had happened, every terrifying second: the water rising, having to will her way out of that conduit, not sure if the valve would close. But it all just flickered through her consciousness like a movie on fast-forward, flashes of fear as if out of some horrible nightmare. “I was so scared. I was sure I was going to die. I thought you were—” Tears rushed into her eyes again.

 

“You don’t have to go through it,” he said. “Just rest. Get some sleep. We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

 

“No, I want to,” she said. “I have to.”

 

“Idaho Springs is up ahead. Do you want to pull off and eat something?”

 

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

 

“There’s some water in the console next to you. You ought to drink some.”

 

She looked at the plastic bottle there and couldn’t help but smile. “Water’s about the last thing I need right now.”

 

He smiled back. “Sorry. We’ll stop.” There was a turnout on the highway up ahead. Scenic view. “You can tell me, but only as much as you want, okay. You don’t have to go through it all now. You should just rest. We can talk about it later.”

 

“If I don’t go through it now, then it’s like some dream that wasn’t real.”

 

Hauck pulled off the road and parked as far from the other cars as he could.