FORTY-ONE

As she followed Brij down the steps into the mountain, Caitlyn still marveled at the door that had been set into the ground. Even from three feet away, she’d been unable to see it, camouflaged by a mat of pine needles and flat rocks that looked like part of the ground.

Her amazement continued when the door silently slid shut on its hydraulic hinges, for it did not enclose them in darkness.

The tunnel was square, easily two feet higher than her head, wide enough for a car to drive through, shored up with beams of lumber. She was able to take all of it in because of string lighting—the small white bulbs used on Christmas trees. It stretched as far as she could see down the length of the tunnel, and the gentle slope of the passageway was obvious as it continued into the heart of the mountain.

“The tunnels are part of a mine that existed a hundred years ago,” Brij said. “We’ve expanded the system, of course. The lights and ventilation fans are powered by a water turbine deep inside the mountain.”

Although the tunnel continued straight ahead, they had reached another tunnel that bisected this one. It too had a string of lights stretching downward on a long, gentle slope. A breeze touched Caitlyn’s face, and she was grateful for the cool air.

Her silence was a trait belonging to her curiosity. She remembered reading a forbidden book with Papa in her childhood, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and how she always wondered if Alice was very afraid, falling into that strange place. As she stopped to examine a flat-screen monitor on the wall, she thought how she never imagined Wonderland to be a world of mine shafts.

The monitor showed red symbols against a black background:

“It’s how we navigate,” Brij explained. “There are over a hundred miles of tunnels. At every intersection, you’ll find a monitor with battery backup. Each monitor has twenty of twenty-six symbols.”

He pointed at the markings to their side and hovered his finger above the           symbol.

“Look at the wall of the other tunnel where it reaches this one. You won’t see the same symbol there.”

Caitlyn studied it. By comparing both sets of symbols, she saw that the           had been replaced with a .

“Which tunnel do we take?” Brij tapped the monitor.

Because of the symbols on her vidpod, Caitlyn had no difficulty answering. She pointed at the . “This one. Underlined on my vidpod.”

“Essentially, that’s our system. Once you know the symbol or combination of symbols that marks your passage, you simply check each intersection for it.”

“Combination?”

“Twenty symbols, but hundreds of tunnels. Sometimes it’s a combination of two symbols, sometimes three. The screens are networked to a mainframe computer. When we want to change the patterns, it’s done instantly.”

“Easy to get confused,” Caitlyn said. “A lot of the symbols look the same.”

Brij nodded. “By design. It takes years and years to learn the tunnel mazes. Even then, not all of the Clan know every tunnel. Nor will they. We’ve accumulated a lot of resources. Medical, technical, even wealth. It’s dispersed and hidden throughout the mountain. Our headquarters too. Even if Bar Elohim’s soldiers penetrated the mountain, it’s unlikely they’d know where to go. And all the tunnels are rigged with explosives at certain points to collapse them. We can seal off any area we need to and retreat elsewhere.”

“What about the legends?” Caitlyn followed Brij down the tunnel. “The stories we were told as children to scare us. That the Clan let people wander for days and days until they die of thirst. Sometimes worse.”

“Just legend,” Brij said simply. “We don’t fight. We don’t allow people to die. I can tell you how the legends get started, though. The outlaw perimeter. Or drug-induced anterograde amnesia.”

Caitlyn stopped short. “You force someone to take drugs?”

“Never forced. It’s voluntary. Unless it’s someone like the woman attending to Theo, who needed to be rescued quickly. Usually, when we find someone, it’s a condition of the rescue. The drug flunitrazepam is dissolved in water, and for the next ten hours, the short-term memory can’t transfer events to long-term memory. Anything beyond their immediate attention span disappears when it’s replaced by the next event. That protects us when we let them go, keeps our operational secrets intact and successful. But I’m sure the occasional nightmares that follow get embellished.”

“Did you give me the drug?”

“Can you recall our conversation as we walked from the cabin?”

“Yes.”

“That’s your answer. You haven’t lost the ability to access short-term memories.”

“I guess you trust me.”

Brij put a light hand on her shoulder. “Caitlyn, we are trusting you with everything, including our future.”

When he reached the entrance, Mason unscrewed the cigar-sized tube he’d been carrying in his back pocket. He looked around for a place to prop it and found a small crack in a sheet of rock.

Perfect.

The crack was clear of any natural debris that might catch fire, which was important. If a fire spread into the valley, it would be an obstacle to dropping choppers into the valley and would threaten the entire operation.

Mason set the small tube into place. He took his canteen from his belt and poured water into the tube.

Instantly, the magnesium powder inside burst into a white flame, burning at over a thousand degrees Fahrenheit.

Mason lifted the door to the entrance and took a few steps down inside. He jammed a rock into the hinges so that it wouldn’t close. The soldiers would find it easily.

Then he climbed down into the tunnel.

Jordan approached Billy, who was sitting on the steps of the cabin, head hanging down, as if recovering from a horrible hangover.

“I need you,” Jordan said.

Billy raised his head and blinked. He looked confused, like Jordan had spoken to him in an alien language.

“Help me up the path.” Jordan felt like he could barely move. The beating he’d taken from Mason and the dogs would take weeks of recovery. “Two men are still up on the mountain. The bounty hunter bound and left them. We need to get them down before the choppers arrive.”

Billy stood. “I can do it.”

Jordan was glad the boy didn’t ask how Jordan knew that choppers would be coming. Or how he knew about the men and what Mason Lee had done with them.

Jordan didn’t have time to explain.

Or to fabricate a lie.