Dead Ringer (36 page)

"I won't let this happen again," Marian said. She backed away from the cave-in toward the safety of the entrance. "Victor belongs to me. He'll always belong to me. And if he ever finds you, he'll think you came here to get out of the rain and the mine collapsed around you."

"You crazy witch!"

Angelina leaped up, but Marian fired, forcing her back. She tried to drag Finn's body into the clear, but another round blasted, making her duck. More rock and earth fell, and she covered her head, tasting dust and grit When she looked up again, Marian was yards away, safe from the mountain's imminent collapse.

Through the powdery debris, Angelina saw her aunt pause. Their eyes met

For a long, slow moment the dream Angelina had chased for years teetered inside her, and she made one last, desperate grab to save it. "You're my mother's sister, Marian. My flesh and blood." Her voice cracked.

With a hateful smile, Marian aimed at the main support pole. "Welcome to the family, kid."

She squeezed the trigger and emptied the gun into the wooden beam.

CHAPTER
21

Angelina threw herself on top of Finn as the timber cracked, swayed, and came down with an earsplitting boom that brought the mountain down on them. Plunged into blackness, she heard the sounds of destruction crashing and echoing all around. Metal severed, glass shattered. Something hit her shoulder and bounced off, another chunk hit the arm she wrapped around her head.

The shock was so great she didn't have time to be afraid until the thunder of the cave-in settled into vast silence. Only then did she realize her heart was pounding loud enough to be heard in the next state, her mouth dry, her skin icy tight.

Musty-smelling dust swirled into her throat, making her cough. Was this hell or was she really alive?

"Finn!" The body beneath hers shifted slightly. She heard a moan. "Finn, are you all right?" Another groan. Blind, she slid around until she found his face and could whisper in his ear. "Are you all right?"

"Ter-rific." His voice came out weak and hoarse. "What happened?"

She shuddered, remembering the vindictive pleasure on her aunt's face. "Marian shot you, then blew out the mine supports. The whole mountain came down on us."

"Then how come... we're still alive?"

She closed her eyes against his scratchy, whisker-stubbled cheek. They'd come so close to the alternative ... "I don't know."

"Mmm." He tried to shift his position, and inhaled a sharp breath. "Shoulder hurts. Can't... move my leg."

A stab of panic hit her and she crawled frantic hands down his body to what felt like a wooden beam across his left knee.

"Something is pinning you down." She wished desperately for a light but had no idea where the lantern was or even if it was usable anymore,

"Finn-do you still have that little flashlight?"

"Pocket." She slid her hands over him again, searching for his pockets, accidentally brushing against his shoulder. He gasped in pain.

"God, I'm sorry."

"'S all right." He sounded drowsy. Was he slipping away? If only she could see!

"Finn! Stay with me."

"Can't... go anywhere, Angel."

She found the penlight in his right front pocket and by some miracle it wasn't damaged. Switching on the tiny beam, she panned it over the interior.

"Oh, my God."

Half of Grisha's body lay buried under rock and earth, only his legs visible. Rubble, dirt, and rock blocked the way out, but the worst of the wreckage had settled around, not on top of them. The main support beam had split down the middle. Half still stood, precariously holding up the roof just above them. The other half leaned heavily on Finn's leg. His shirt was a mess of sticky blood above his right shoulder.

"Badr he rasped.

"Better than it could be."

He grunted and fell into silence. She didn't know if he was asleep, passed out, or resting. But the longer they stayed here, the more dangerous it got. How much time before the rest of the support gave and all the mountain came down? Or the air ran out?

She bit her lip and eyed the beam across Finn's leg. It looked heavy, but she thought she could manage it.

No thinking about it; she'd have to manage.

"Let me see if I can get this off you." She tested the weight by running her hands over it and lifting slightly. He gasped in pain and she immediately stopped.

At least he was conscious. "God, Finn, I don't want to hurt you, but if I don't get this off we'll never get out of here."

He drew a harsh breath. "I know."

"I'm going to try and lift this off, but I'll need your help."

"I'm... all yours, Angel." His eyes were closed, his mouth pinched in pain. Her heart squeezed at the sight

"We'll do it on three. I'll lift, but you've got to drag yourself free somehow."

"Give me a minute." He inhaled deeply as though steeling himself, balled and unballed his hands, then placed them palms down on the ground on either side of himself. "Okay."

She counted down, and on one, mustered every ounce of strength she possessed to lift the beam high enough for him to scuttle backward.

She managed to hold on until he was free, then dropped the heavy timber with an echoing boom. A shower of rock rained down and the other half of the support wobbled in reply. Heart thudding sickly, she whipped the light on it and stared hard, her breath stopped for what seemed a lifetime.

The timber held.

She sat down heavily, quaking too much to stand. A few feet away, Finn lay on his back, panting heavily.

"Christ. Should call you... Wonder Woman." And then his eyes rolled back in his head and he was out.

Running a trembling hand through her hair, she inched closer and gaped at his bloody shoulder. Before she could think too hard about it. she ripped his shirt away from the wound. At the sight of the blackened hole and the red blood surging around it, a wave of nausea hit. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to take a strip of his shirt and clean off as much of the dirt as possible. As she worked, blood from the back of his shoulder stained her hands, and when she looked she found a second hole there as well. Her stomach flopped.
Exit wound.
God, on what TV show had she heard that term, and who would've thought she'd ever use it? Steeling herself, she cleaned the second wound as well, and in a few minutes both had stopped bleeding. She made two pads out of the rest of his shirt and bound them with a sleeve.

For a moment she sat back on her heels and covered her mouth with trembling fingers so she wouldn't throw up.

Then she turned to his leg. His jeans were torn, but not enough to see what lay beneath them, for which she was monumentally glad. She did not want to know how much damage the heavy buttress had done.

Wobbly, she sank against a rock and closed her eyes. How perfect to sleep and not be responsible for anything ever again.

But though the body was willing, the mind was not.

So many lives hung in the balance. Those she'd never meet, who'd be maimed or killed if Marian sold the plu-tonium to someone willing and able to use it. And those she knew intimately, especially-Angelina glanced at Finn-this one particular life.

She hauled herself to her feet and trudged toward the entrance. A pile of rock and rubble blocked the way. Several smaller, easier-to-move pieces concealed heavier chunks she couldn't budge.

A wave of despair rolled over her. Without mechanized help, she'd never claw her way out.

If only she could contact Roper.

A spear of hope pierced her chest. The phone. If she found the phone she could get help.

She bounded over to where most of Finn's equipment had been. Setting the penlight on a wedge of debris, she scrabbled in the fallen rock, yanked and pulled at the rubble, breaking nails and scraping her fingers raw.

A bit of glass from what was left of the lantern sliced her finger, and she drew in a breath, cursing, then sucked at the cut. To maintain focus, she pictured Finn pacing outside in the dark, punching in phone numbers and.,.

Outside. Her heart sank. Even if she found the phone in one piece, she wouldn't get a signal from inside the mine.

Disappointment bit so sharp tears stung her eyes.

She leaned against the barricade and gritted her teeth in misery. In front of her, Finn lay battered and wounded She was his only hope, and she'd just run out of options.

Come on, Angelina. Sharkman said you weren 't a quitter. Prove him right.

She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her filthy hands and took a deep breath. Then she swung the penlight around the dark space, desperate for a way out. Finn had set up camp several dozen yards from the entrance, but the mine itself went back farther. She shone the light into the dark interior. A pile of rubble lay there, but she made herself walk over and examine it. Amid the wreckage she found a small opening. She put the penlight in her teeth and squeezed through, scraping a knee and reopening the cut in her hand.

Blackness waited on the other side. She aimed the pen-light into it and saw the mine continued endlessly. Starting down the passageway, she scanned the area with the light. Here and there, pieces of the mountain had fallen into the pathway, but for the most part, the way was clear. Channels led off the main one and she turned right down the first. It led to a warren of smaller arteries, all of which ended in rock. She retraced her steps and headed off to the left this time.

And there, halfway down, her heart stopped at the sight of a rickety ladder embedded in stone.

A ladder that went up.

She shone the light above her head, but the beam wasn't strong enough to penetrate to the top. She licked her lips and debated. The ladder looked a hundred years old; climbing up might destroy it. Which meant if she attempted the ascent, she should do it with Finn. But if she dragged Finn here and the ladder wasn't a way out, she would have expended what little strength he had for nothing.

She had no choice. She'd have to risk it; he couldn't stay where he was and this might be a way out.

She dashed back, wriggling through the small opening that led to where she'd left him. He lay still as death, and the sight sent a spurt of liquid fear through her veins. But under the steady beam of light, his chest moved up and down.

She swallowed hard, grateful for the small sign of life. She should let him rest. He deserved it.

But they had to get out of the mine, and she couldn't carry him out.

She shook him. "Finn, wake up. I may have found a way out, but I can't get us out alone. Finn!"

She nudged and shouted and tugged, even risking hurting him again if that would bring him to consciousness. At last, his eyes fluttered open and he looked at her groggily.

"My very own... angel." His eyes closed.

"Stay with me. Stay with me!" She jostled him again, and he groaned. "The entrance is blocked but I think I found a way out. Come on, wake up. I need you."

"Leave me here," he mumbled.

"Not on your life, Sharkman. Come on, up. Up!"

She put her arms beneath his shoulders and forced him into a sitting position. He was sweating by the time she succeeded.

"God, woman, you're... killing me."

"Don't confuse me with my family. Come on, one more push and you'll be on your feet."

Between her and the rock he used to prop himself up, she managed to get him upright, but the minute he put weight on his damaged leg, he gave a roar of pain and swayed heavily.

"Hold on! Don't fall. Don't-" She pushed him against the rock wall, forcing him to stay upright. He was breathing through his teeth, working through the pain.

"Christ," he panted.

"Look, your left leg's a mess. Try not to put any weight on it. Lean on me."

She gave him a minute to recover, then slung his arm around her shoulder. "Ready?"

He grunted a reply, which she took for an affirmative. Closing her eyes, she said a brief prayer for strength and took a step. He gasped, but didn't collapse. She took another step.

He was heavy as the mountain itself, and she staggered under his weight, but managed to hold on to him. They hobbled slowly, his body taut with the enormous effort of moving and holding back the pain, but she refused to stop until they reached the pile of rubble that blocked the way back. Then she propped him against the earth wall and wiped the sweat off his face and neck.