Steve came to a stop after about twenty feet. This wasn’t the right one. The tunnel he was in had been blocked by a cave-in. Judging from the amount of dust on the ground it had happened some time ago. He backtracked and went back to the landing. He chose another tunnel, drawing another arrow on the rock wall. He got an immediate sense of a neglected tunnel after progressing much farther. There were small rocks scattered along the ground and jagged cracks running through the wall and ceiling. This tunnel was set to collapse.

  Steve reversed course and went back. He eyed the three remaining tunnels. Must he really search the other two before he’ll get the right one? Before he could take more than two steps in he hesitated. He could hear muffled shouts and screams. He cursed and sprinted forward, pumping more jhorun into his hands so he could better see where he was going. He hastily drew three more arrows before he came to a stop.

  His lead chaser, at least twenty feet out in front of him, had slammed into something hard. Whatever it was the chaser had hit had caused a loud clang, which echoed through the tunnels. Whatever it was, Steve decided, was metallic in nature. He cautiously inched forward.

  The source of the obstacle appeared. The tunnel he was in had been sealed by a thick metal door. He inspected the surface of the heavy iron door. There was a keyhole directly in the center of the door so he figured it had to be locked somehow. Just for kicks he grabbed a handle on the far right side of the metal door and tried pulling.

  The door didn’t budge. Not even an inch.

  He heard another shout, followed closely thereafter by a shrill scream. Steve cocked his head, confused. That scream hadn’t really sounded like a woman’s. He couldn’t be sure. It was high enough where it could be either gender. The shouting, though, definitely sounded like a woman’s voice. A supremely pissed off woman. Could it be Sarah?

  “Sarah?” Steve called out. He pounded the surface of the door with his fist. “Are you in there?”

  He heard another shout, but it wasn’t clear. This time he couldn’t quite tell the gender of the person doing the shouting. Thankfully the incessant screaming had stopped.

  “Sarah! If you’re in there, answer me! Can you hear me?”

  There were several more shouts. It was Sarah! It had to be!

  “I’m here, babe! Just let me know you’re okay! Umm, okay?”

  Just then he heard tapping.

  Tap taptap tap tap…

  The tapping disappeared. Steve breathed a sigh of relief, the first he was able to take in… in… He grunted. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been worried about his wife. Had it only been a few days ago?

  Tap taptap tap tap…

  “Two bits,” Steve mouthed, rapping twice on the door.

  The simple ‘Shave and a Haircut’ tune was something he and Sarah consistently hummed, or tapped, or even beeped on car horns. It was their sign to each other, and in this case, Steve knew Sarah was on the other side of that door. He just had to find a way through.

  “Step back!” Steve shouted, cupping his hands on the door and shouting into his makeshift megaphone. “I’m going to try and burn my way through.”

  “Brackets!” came Sarah’s muffled reply.

  Brackets? Steve looked up at the thick iron brackets holding the door securely in place. What about them? Had he heard that right?

  “Say again? What was that?”

  “Melt brackets!” Sarah’s muffled voice urged. “THEN STEP BACK!”

  Steve nodded, understanding. Sarah wanted him to melt the brackets holding the door closed. Presumably she’d push the door over when she could.

  “Get ready!” Steve shouted, igniting a hand.

  He targeted the first bracket and blasted a strong jet of fire at it. Fifteen seconds later the bracket literally melted off the tunnel wall. He proceeded to melt the other six brackets and then retreated back down his side of the tunnel.

  “Ready!” Steve shouted as loud as he could. “Give it your best shot!”

  He heard metal groaning. The top of the circular door inched forward, scraping noisily along the stony wall. He heard the distinctive sounds of rocks being crushed as the massive iron door slid forward another few inches.

  “Get out of the way!” Sarah shouted. Her voice was much easier to recognize as there were now gaps between the door and the tunnel wall.

  Steve retreated another hundred feet down the tunnel.

  “I’m clear!”

  The circular metal door was punched free of the tunnel and fell to the ground with a loud crash, sending up bits of pulverized stone and gravel. Sounds of the door’s epic crash continued to echo throughout the tunnel for at least a full minute.

  Sarah rushed across the fallen door and threw herself into his arms.

  “I thought I wouldn’t see you again!”

  Steve wrapped his arms around his wife and held her tight.

  “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: you’re stuck with me, lady. You’ve got to do better than that if you think you’re going to drive me away.”

  He looked into his wife’s glazed eyes and frowned.

  “How are you feeling? Do you know what he’s been giving you?”

  Sarah laid a hand on his chest and nodded.

  “I do. Opium. Can you believe that? That egotistical jerk is trying to turn me into a drug addict.”

  “I think I need to have a little chat with him.”

  Sarah put a restraining arm on his.

  “Don’t. He’s smarter than he looks. And he’s Lentarian! Or he used to be.”

  That got Steve’s attention.

  “What? Are you kidding? Did he tell you that he was?”

  Sarah nodded.

  Steve scowled. “That explains how he knew who you were.”

  “That’s right. Honey, he’s one of the people that fell through the portal. He said he’s been here for over twenty years. I volunteered to take him back to Lentari.”

  “Oh, hell no,” Steve vowed, frowning.

  “Don’t worry. He wasn’t interested. He’s grown fond of the power he wields in this town. He thrives on fear.”

  “If he loves it here so much then why is he leaving?”

  “He kept telling me that I was going to help him retire.”

  “Retire? How were you supposed to do that?”

  “By teleporting into bank vaults and cleaning them out.”

  Steve scoffed loudly. “What a jackass. It doesn’t explain why he’s leaving Coeur d’Alene. What’s his reasoning?”

  “He’s a bully,” Sarah answered. “He only gets his way if he keeps the people afraid of him. If the townsfolk ever learn they are stronger together then it would threaten the sheriff’s livelihood. Yesterday, when we went to town, he tried to parade me around like a prized possession. That, it seems, was enough to get the people grumbling. My memory is a little hazy on this next part, but I think he struck another woman. Sheriff Bixby was cursing about it all the way back here.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your memory,” Steve told her. “He hit Peggy.”

  “Peggy from the Silver Spike? Oh, no! Is she okay?”

  “She’s got a bruise but she’ll be okay. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Steve took his wife’s hand and led her back toward the surface, following the fire arrows until he had retraced his way back to the small shack.

  Sarah smiled at him as they passed one of the arrows.

  “That’s a smart idea.”

  “The last thing I wanted to do was get lost down here,” Steve told her. “What good would I be if… whoa! Back up, back up!”

  They had emerged back into the small shack and were about ready to step foot outside when they noticed several dozen men all running toward them, guns drawn. He slammed the door closed.

  “Get back and get down!” Steve snapped. He ignited both hands and glared at the men through the chinks in the shabbily constructed wood walls.

  “Do you have a plan for getting us out of here?” Sarah wanted to know. She placed a hand on the side of her head and gave it a few shakes.

  “Are you okay?” Steve worriedly asked her. The first bullet slammed into the side of the shed, causing both of them to dive to the ground.

  “I’m just dizzy. I’m so tired of not being able to think straight. Honey, what are we going to do?”

  Steve slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. If we… wait. Wait a minute! You can still use your jhorun to move things around, right?”

  Sarah leveled a gaze at him. “Obviously.”

  “Wait here.”

  Steve crawled back to the stairs and scrambled down. He made it back to the landing and inspected the crates he had seen before. Yes! There it was!

  Steve snatched one of the crates and raced back up the stairs. He crawled back into position next to his wife. He proudly showed her the crate.

  “Let’s take this up a notch, shall we?”

  Sarah eyed the crate full of sticks of dynamite. She looked up at him and smiled. She nodded.

  “I’ll open the door and you fling this up into the air. I’ll handle the rest. Can you do that?”

  In response, one stick of dynamite popped up over the edge of the crate, as though it was eager to get outside. Steve started to rise to his knees so he could open the door when Sarah laid a hand on his shoulder. She shook her head no. She focused her attention on the door. Moments later it was ripped off its hinges and flung out towards the men, who cursed and scrambled for cover.

  Steve ducked as a stick of dynamite whizzed by his ear. It sailed straight up until it was about 30 feet in the air. It would have gone higher except Steve hit it with a chaser. The resulting explosion briefly illuminated the entire compound. Steve could clearly see men hiding behind trees, crouching behind large boulders, and satisfactorily enough, he could see a number of men running down the road back towards town.

  Two more sticks flew by him. He fired off two blasts, one right after the other. There was only one explosion, however. He had missed the second stick. It fell, untouched, directly in front of a group of three men who had each let out terrified shouts. One man, picking himself up from the ground, saw that the fuse wasn’t lit and held it up for his companions to see.

  “It ain’t lit! Who’s got a match? We’ll use this on them bastards just like they was tryin’ to use ‘em on us!”

  Before anyone could find a match the men gasped with shock as the fuse on the dynamite flared to life and began burning down. The man holding the stick turned to his friends and questioningly held up the burning stick of dynamite.

  “Throw it, ya damn fool!” one man hissed. “Get rid of it! Throw it away!”

  That seemed to snap the man out of his trance. He pivoted until he was facing the mine entrance and tossed the stick straight at Steve. Thankfully, Sarah was watching. She caught the stick with her jhorun and redirected it so that it punched through a window in the lodge. Two seconds later the entire southeastern corner of the lodge exploded apart. Tiny bits of charred wood rained down on them from all directions.

  Hank and Bart appeared. They looked at each other, shrugged, and lit a stick of dynamite each. Two sticks of TNT were thrown at the lodge. One bounced off the lodge’s perimeter wall but the other broke through a loft window up on the second floor.

  The stick of dynamite that hadn’t made it inside the sheriff’s house detonated just outside of it, shattering every window within 200 feet. The second explosion ripped a part of the roof off and blasted a huge hole in the lodge’s attic. Steve and Sarah carefully emerged from the shack. Steve held the crate out before him, unwilling to let the TNT fall into the wrong hands. They ran as fast as they were able to towards the lodge.

  The men who hadn’t deserted their sheriff started firing at the two employees of the Silver Spike. A few carefully guided sticks of TNT convinced the men that it was time for a career change. Another two dozen men fled down the mountain.

  A few gunshots rang out. Steve pointed at two men who were crouched behind a large oak tree.

  “You’ve got ten seconds to clear out!” Steve shouted at the two deputies. “Otherwise I feel the need to point out you’re hiding behind a tree. A very big tree. Want to see how well it burns?”

  The two deputies unbuckled their gun belts, snatched their badges off their chest, and flung them to the ground. Without saying another word they walked, unhurried, down the road.

  Bart appeared. He saw the half full crate of TNT and eagerly grabbed a few more sticks.

  “Where’s Hank?” Steve asked, looking around. He had just seen him a few moments ago so he couldn’t have gone far.

  They heard the commotion before they spotted it. Hank had appeared. He was backing away from the damaged corner of the lodge. Three men were advancing on him. They had their fists up and were taunting him with insults, trying to provoke the huge man into fighting back.

  Steve frowned. He looked up at Bart and then at Sarah.

  “Keep her safe. I’ll deal with this.”

  Sarah started to rise until Bart placed a huge hand on her shoulder and effortlessly pushed her back down.

  Steve ignited his flames. He eyed the three assailants. One of them glanced his way. His eyes widened with disbelief. Steve glanced at his hands and then noticed he had let himself be completely engulfed in flames once more.

  Steve targeted an undamaged section of the lodge and blasted a hole in it. He released his jhorun into both hands but refrained from targeting anything. His fire whips sprang into existence. He cracked the whip over his head and advanced on the three men, who were now cowering on the ground.

  Hank backed off a few paces.

  Several shots were fired. Steve felt a slight tap on his left shoulder. He reached back to touch the affected area and briefly wondered if he had been shot. He felt something on his finger tips but couldn’t identify what it was as his fingers were glowing red and readily burning.

  Steve looked over at Hank, who was pointing back at the last remaining shack. Half a dozen men were concealed within the mine’s entrance and were firing off shots every couple of seconds.

  “Hank, find cover,” Steve promptly told his companion. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “What about you?” Hank inquired. “You said before you can’t stop a bullet.”

  “I don’t think I can. And maybe I’ve been shot, I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

  Hank scoffed. “You’d know it if you had been shot.”

  “Whatever. I’ll worry about that later. Take cover. Now!”

  “What about those men in the mine?”

  Steve held both hands out in front of him and generated the largest chaser he could. A fireball the size of a standard inflatable exercise ball appeared. It rose up into the air and hovered there, waiting for a command. Steve looked over at the mine and smiled. The men all bolted from the shack, running as if their very lives depended on putting as much distance as possible from themselves and the shack.

  Steve looked at the mine entrance and then back at the enormous chaser. He pointed at the shack.

  “Destroy it.”

  The huge chaser sped off. It collided with the tiny shack and detonated, blowing the shack’s four walls in separate directions. The entrance to the actual mine collapsed as several tons of rock slammed down on it. Once the smoke had cleared there was nothing left to indicate anything had ever been there. The blast had scraped every trace of human presence away, leaving scorched bare rock everywhere.

  “Now that is closure,” he heard Sarah say. He pulled his jhorun back and extinguished his flames. She appeared by his side and took his hand in hers.

  Hank and Bart appeared. Hank had a split lip while Bart had a smear of blood on his neck but otherwise the two of them looked to be okay.

  “We need to find the sheriff,” Steve told his two accomplices. “Bart, would you wait here with Sarah while –”

  “You’re leaving me?” Sarah interrupted, frowning. “Again?”

  “What I meant to say,” Steve hastily corrected, “was that we need to stick together as we look for the sheriff. I won’t rest easy until I know he’s been found and dealt with.”

  “What should we do with him when we find him?” Hank wanted to know.

  “Hold him accountable for what he’s done,” Bart instantly answered, sounding surprisingly eloquent despite his formidable appearance.

  Steve pointed at the lodge. “We have to find him first. Look at the size of that place. He could be hiding anywhere.”

  “Then we should split up,” Hank suggested. “We can cover more ground.”

  They stepped through the lodge’s main front doors and looked around. They were in a great room that stretched at least thirty feet up in the air. A huge fireplace set with locally quarried granite sat against the far wall. On the same wall as the fireplace were numerous mounted animals, ranging from the head of a buffalo to a completely preserved bobcat. The entire wall must have had at least twenty different species of animals forever preserved in exhibiting some type of behavior inherent to its species. The bobcat was depicted climbing a small stump. A great horned owl sat on a tree limb and regarded them with large unseeing eyes.

  “That explains the smell,” Steve muttered, rubbing his nose. “It stinks in here.”

  “I’ll check the loft,” Bart announced. He headed for a large curved staircase leading to the second floor. “If I find anything I’ll give you a shout.”

  Steve nodded. “Sounds good. Be on your toes. You never know what could be lurking in the shadows.”

  “I’ll take the south side,” Hank decided. He passed a display case of ancient weapons. He smashed it open and reached in to grab a huge studded club. Hank rested it on his shoulder, looking just like a caveman might have looked thousands of years ago.

  “Not many people could pull off that look,” Steve whispered to his wife, who stifled a giggle, “but he certainly nailed it.”

 

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