“I don’t either.”
“Let me take a look at it.”
She shines the light as I make my way to the top of the shaft and find a similar two-by-two square of metal blocking the passage. This one also has a lever, but the lever is chained with a combination lock, just as she said. I twist it around a bit, but it’s locked up tight. If I had just a small hacksaw, I would be able to break it, but I have nothing of the sort.
I check the seams of the door, and bang against it with my fist, but there is no easy way to get through. Under other circumstances, I might have tried to break through it, but the angle is terrible, and I can’t get any kind of force directed upward.
“No chance.” I look back at the thief and shake my head. “If I had tools with me, maybe, but definitely not without them.”
I press my hand to the dirt below, wondering if it would be possible to dig our way out. The ground is compacted and hard; I can barely dig a fingernail into it. I couldn’t possibly dig through it with just my hands.
“So…what do we do?” she whispers.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “At the moment, we’re trapped.”
My own words sink in, and I wonder why in the world I was foolish enough to follow her into this shaft in the first place. I might very well have been safer outside, dodging boulders as they rolled down the mountain. Then again, I might just as well have been hit by one of them. Either way, the situation isn’t good.
She nods slightly, and I wait for panic to cross her face, but it doesn’t come. She’s remarkably calm, and I try to mirror her expression despite the growing fear in my chest. The area is safe enough from earthquakes, but I have only a little water and no food on me. The chance of someone coming across our location and hearing us call for help is basically zero.
If we can’t get out, we’re fucked.
“What can we do?” she asks.
“Wait for another quake?” I shrug. Part of me wants to yell at her—blame her for our predicament—but I don’t. It’s pointless now and would only cause us both more stress. “I guess it’s possible that the next one could shake whatever debris is blocking the door farther down the hill. I don’t really know.”
“That could take days.”
“How much water is in here?”
“I have some,” she says, “but food will be tight.”
“But the ventilation is good, right?”
“Yes,” she says. “Seems to be.”
“Well, that’s something.”
“Better than the alternative.” She shines the light toward the bottom door and sighs deeply.
She takes a small bottle of water out of her pack, drinks from it and then offers it to me. I take a swig before thanking her and handing it back.
I’m still impressed with how calm and collected she has remained. If she’s faking it, she’s faking it well. I’m barely holding it together inside, and being absolutely exhausted isn’t helping.
“Maybe we should rest a while,” I say. “The rocks could shift again, and I’d have better luck getting the door open if I’m not tired.”
“Not sure what else to do,” she says.
The shaft isn’t long enough for us to lie down end to end, so we maneuver beside each other again to try to sleep even though it’s ridiculously uncomfortable. At the same time, I can’t help but think about how nice it is to be up against her.
Tentatively, I place my arm around her.
“Is this okay?” I ask. I carefully watch her face, but she doesn’t seem upset by the movement.
“It’s fine.” She reaches out and places her arm around my waist. “At the very least, we fit better in this position.”
It’s true; we do fit better. I also happen to like it—quite a bit.
I place my hand against her shoulder blade. In my palm, I can feel the tension in her muscles. I don’t know if it’s because of me or our predicament, but I want to rub her shoulder and tell her it will be all right.