Seth fired again on the roll. This time the revolver roared in the darkness. But the shot missed Stratton. Instead, it kicked up the salt at one end of the flashlight and sent it skittering across the chamber, casting wild strobing lights. In the surreal light, Seth caught a glimpse of Stratton running toward the exit from the chamber. The flashlight came to rest with its beam pointing directly into a corridor that led from the chamber. Light illuminated the sides of the corridor, but the chamber itself was cast into the deep formless darkness of nightmares.

Suddenly from his left Seth heard the roar of another gun. In the light from the muzzle flash, they saw a white geyser of salt erupt from the chamber wall behind Stratton as he made the safety of the corridor and disappeared into the darkness.

“Seth?” It was Zoe’s voice.

“Over here,” he called. Moments later, the three were once again together.

“Ridgeway.” This time it was Stratton’s voice. It had the hollow echoing tones of sound bouncing through underground distances. “Ridgeway, I have spare ammunition. And it’s all live and reliable. If you come after me, I’ll be waiting for you in the darkness. You’ll never see me in time. I know where you have to walk to get out.”

“Stratton,” Seth called. But there was no reply.

They huddled in the claustrophobic, clinging darkness, fearful of making their position known. Was Stratton waiting for them to go after the flashlight? They squatted for what seemed like hours as the flashlight’s bright blue beam began to fade toward yellow. Without the light, there was no hope of following their carbon-black trail out of the mine.

Finally, Seth stood up in the darkness, revolver in one hand, the other trembling with indecision. Was the flashlight bait? Was the starved rat finally forced to have a go at the cheese in the trap? Finally, he tucked the revolver into his pants, sprinted toward the light, grabbed it, and dived away from the spot, trying to turn off the switch as he waited for the roar of bullets and the impact of slugs.

But the roar never came. The only sounds in the darkness came from his own heavy breathing. Had Stratton left? They might the if he was there waiting for them to try and make their way out of the mine. But they’d surely the if they didn’t try. To conserve the flashlight’s flagging batteries, he flashed it once to determine where Zoe and Father Morgen were, then turned it off and walked slowly toward them.

Darkness was their friend. It would hide them. Darkness was their enemy; it could lead them into traps and ambushes left by foes both old and new.

They gathered the water, gas stove, Gunther’s climbing rope, which was still attached to the vault room door, and one of the blankets that Stratton had dumped from his pack. The blanket was made of an aluminized plastic, and reinforced with some sort of fibers. It was of the sort motorists and campers carry for emergencies. This was definitely an emergency.