Summer held the can sideways over the candle until the homemade wick took the flame. She watched the fire burn its way down the string and enter the hole she’d made. A second went by, then two, then ten and the flame held, thanks to the sunflower oil inside.
“Gotta love that shit,” she said, feeling damn good about herself.
She leveled the can and put it several feet away, separating it from the candle.
“Now for the tricky part,” she muttered, her hands taking turns picking up each item from her pack and pondering its use. A few minutes passed before an idea sprang to life, bringing a smile to her lips.
It took some creative body bending to turn around in the tunnel with the candle in hand and then crawl back to the two-foot-long piece of pipe she’d passed earlier. But she made it happen.
She grabbed the pipe, flipped another U-turn, then headed back to the control box and conveyor blocking her path to freedom. The conduit she’d scavenged had a thirty-degree bend roughly three inches from one end.
Summer grabbed a handful of crayons and placed them next to each other around the end of the pipe, with their tips pointing up and away from the bend. So far so good—she just needed a way to secure them.
The paracord and twine were the most logical choices, but they’d burn when exposed to fire. Likewise, so would the cotton scarves. Something noncombustible was needed.
That’s when her eyes found their way to the electrical wires hanging from the control box.
She inched forward and brought her mouth to the longest of the shielded wires, biting down on the casing closest to the control box. Once her teeth hit the copper inside, she angled back and pulled the rubber off to expose the wire.
Since there wasn’t a knife or pair of cutting pliers handy, she needed to liberate the wire the old-fashioned way—by working it back and forth until fatigue set in and the wire broke free. A minute later, that’s exactly what happened.
She wrapped the wire around the crayons, starting from the bottom up, keeping the wraps close together and tight until half the length of crayons was encased in copper.
It was time to test her invention, but first she put the other items back into her knapsack and zipped it up. If her idea worked, she’d need to work quickly and there wouldn’t be time to pack.
Summer held the tips of the crayons to the candle flame. Almost instantly the crayons caught fire, showering the area with more light than expected. The flame from each crayon was at least ten times brighter than the flames on the candle and tuna can. The sheer size of each crayon flame and the number gave her hope this new plan might work.
The bend in the pipe allowed her to hold the new torch at an angle to the snow, giving her better access and keeping most of her body away from the freezing water. As the snow melted, she used the can opener in her other hand to dig her way out, one inch at a time.
CHAPTER 13
Security Chief Krista Carr waited for the personnel transport truck to navigate the last corner and come to a stop in Summer’s assigned Seeker grid, then she opened the door and shot out, landing both feet in the dirt.
Her men did the same, then gathered around her in silence, their eyes keen and attentive.
She also kept silent, using only hand signals to deploy her men in teams, aiming her fingers in the direction they were to follow.
They did as she commanded, taking off in sprints, leaving her alone with the truck and its subtle engine whine.
She leaned inside the vehicle and turned the ignition off. Every ounce of battery power was priceless, which was why she stowed the keys in her pocket—to thwart any unauthorized engine starts, especially now that the sun was asleep for the night. Headlights burned through more energy than a daytime rescue mission.
Krista walked to the front of the truck and stood with one boot on the bumper as she unfolded her area map and laid it across the hood. At least the moon was full, giving her some light to work with and avoiding the need to turn on her LED headlamp.
Krista ran her finger down the paper, bringing it to the southeast corner of Summer’s assigned area. She studied the layout and contours of the grid. “Where the hell are you, Summer?”
There were several alleys to check, as well as a long string of industrial buildings that seemed to be squeezed in like pack rats, all of it dense and all of it laden with blind spots.
Ambushes could happen anywhere, even with Scabs and certainly with Frost’s men, if they chose to cross the No-Go Zone. Regardless, it was going to be a long night.
Thirteen minutes later, one of her men doubled back and came to her position, stopping a foot away on her right. It was O’Neil, a curious but loyal man she handpicked for this assignment.
She didn’t address him right away, letting the slender, dark haired man hang in silence to set the tone before she spoke, not because it was procedure. More so out of spite. Spite against the universe and her own fate. She didn’t agree with this rescue mission and wanted everyone to know about it, even if she did so without words or a verbal protest.
“What do you have for me, O’Neil?”
His deep-toned voice was crisp when he said, “Team Two cleared both streets to the west. Moving on to the next block.”
“What about Teams One and Three?”
“Haven’t reported in yet, ma’am.”
“Any Seeker Marks?”
“Negative. Team Two reports all doors are clear.”
“What about secondary marks?”
“Windows are clear as well. If the target worked this area, she didn’t mark her progress as required. No infinity signs anywhere.”
“Well, there’s a shock,” Krista said, rolling her eyes. She had no idea if Summer had worked this area and forgotten to follow procedure with her marker chalk, or if she had skipped this section altogether. It was also possible the girl never made it here in the first place.
This is why Summer needed to be banished. Rules exist for a reason. They can save your life when followed or they can end it when they are ignored.
Now Summer was putting the lives of others at risk, looking for her skinny ass in the middle of the night and in an uncontrolled sector of town.
She brought her attention to O’Neil. “I want you to head over to Team One’s position and find out what’s going on. Then check on Three. Report back on the double.”
The man didn’t hesitate, turning in the dirt and sprinting with a tactical vest loaded for bear. He carried his assault rifle in a firing position as he moved, giving Krista hope that at least one of her team might make it out of here alive.
Summer jammed the can opener into the melting snow pack above her, expecting to hit more resistance, as had happened ever since she’d started the dig out.
When her hand poked through the snow in a sudden lurch, it scraped against something about a foot beyond the hole. She cried out in celebration and in pain as a fresh batch of air came rushing in.
She yanked her arm back and let the torch melt more of the snow around the opening until it was about a foot wide.
There was something running left to right across the opening. It might have been wood, or perhaps metal; she couldn’t tell in the diminished light. However, it was round and she could reach it.
Her chest filled with a sudden rush of energy, allowing her to punch at the snow around the hole, making it wider on one side. The rapid-fire impacts stung her knuckles, but she didn’t care, working faster than she ever thought possible.
A few strikes later, the hole was oblong on one side and shoulder width, allowing her to put down the torch, then bring both arms up and grab hold of the round object. She pulled herself up and out of her tomb, dragging her pack along by the straps she’d tied to her foot.