Charlie hurried over to the shaft, but hesitated at the bottom of the ladder.

Thomas grabbed George’s arm. He knew if the wall broke, the chamber and gallery would flood in seconds. They needed to escape before it was too late. He pulled on George’s arm and pointed to the shaft ladder, but George yanked his arm free and covered as much of the hole as he could with his hands. “Go,” he mouthed to Thomas. “Help Mouse.” He looked to Frederick. “You too.”

Frederick squeezed in beside him and covered the rest of the hole with his hands. “This is no time to play the hero, George,” he whispered. “You need our help, or this wall will fall.”

“I don’t need help,” George said, his whispers growing in volume and annoyance. “What I need is you to get those bloody bags down—”

Before he could finish, the crumbling tunnel face collapsed. Water and sand surged through the opening, knocking the boys off their feet. Thomas tumbled end over end and slammed into one of the beams lining the tunnel wall. The force knocked the air from his lungs. He opened his eyes and tried to get his bearings, but the water had doused all light and sound in the tunnel. Finding his footing, he pushed off the floor, praying to find an air pocket near the ceiling.

TWENTY-FIVE

BARELY SIX INCHES remained between the tunnel ceiling and rising water. Thomas lifted his chin as high as he could and took a deep breath before his heavy clothes dragged him under again. He kicked harder, propelling himself upward to keep his face above the water. Unable to see in the darkness, he screamed for the others. “Charlie! Frederick!”

“I’m here,” Frederick whispered, his voice so close Thomas flinched. “You shouldn’t scream. The Germans could hear you.”

“Who cares? If they blast their way into this tunnel, they’ll drown with us,” Thomas said.

“Fair point. Can you swim?”

“Yes,” Thomas answered, thankful for the summer days James and he had snuck into St. Margaret’s Bay, where James taught Thomas how to swim. He kicked to keep his face in the shrinking pocket of air, and his nose scraped against a beam in the ceiling. He knew he should swim for the ladder, but he couldn’t leave the others behind. “Can you?”

“Yes, and I can still stand.” Frederick pushed up on the tips of his toes to keep his face in the pocket. “But we’ve got to get out of this chamber before it fills.”

“Where are George and Charlie?” Thomas asked, angling his head to lift an ear from the water to hear Frederick’s response.

“Charlie!” Frederick yelled, no longer worried about the enemy hearing. “George!”

The sound of loud, panicked splashing drew the boys’ heads in the direction of what had been the tunnel face.

“Over here!” George yelled.

His reply was echoed in the opposite direction, by the shaft. “Help!” Charlie called out with a gurgled plea. “Help!”