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She pressed her leg against the bottom edge of the tank, finding it came to the top of her thigh. She walked to the pickup truck and compared the height of the tailgate.
Good. Good. They were very close to being the same height. The tank was maybe two inches lower, which meant it would have to be lifted. Lifted and shoved. But there would be a system, had to be, because Hermit Jim would have had to carry the tank in his truck to get refills.
“Cookie. Look around for a toolbox.”
First things first. She made sure the nozzle was off.
Then she rummaged in the toolbox Cookie had retrieved until she found a wrench that fit the pipe fitting. The coupling that attached the hose to the tank was frozen up.
“Let me give it a try,” Cookie suggested.
Cookie was at least twice Lana’s weight. The coupling gave way.
Lana pointed to the rafters. A heavy chain hung down from a series of pulleys. There was a hook on the end of the chain, and an eyebolt on the gas tank’s frame.
“Jim would have had to refill the tank from time to time. That’s how he got the tank into his truck.”
Cookie hauled the hook down. The chain clanked and came easily, rolling through the well-oiled pulley.
Cookie hoisted himself heavily up onto the framework and attached the hook to the eyebolt.
“Okay. Good,” Lana said. “Now I’m going up to get the key.”
Something in her tone must have worried Cookie. “Well, um, Healer, we should go with you. Me and Patrick. It’s not safe out there.”
“I know,” Lana said. “But if something goes wrong, I want to know I have someone I trust who can take care of Patrick.”
That was the wrong thing to say if her goal was to soothe Cookie. His eyes were wide, his chin trembling.
“What’s going to go wrong?”
“Probably nothing.”
“Okay, I have to go with you,” Cookie said.
Lana laid her hand on his big forearm. “Cookie, you have to trust me on this.”
“At least tell me what the problem is,” he pleaded.
Lana hesitated. A big part of her wanted Cookie and Patrick, too, along for the walk to the mine entrance. But she was worried about Patrick. And even more, she was worried about what might happen to Cookie.
In the old days Cookie had been a big, dumb bully, a sort of second-tier Orc. He was still not exactly a genius. But his heart had been transformed by days of suffering, and whatever meanness had once been in him was gone. There was now in Cookie a sort of purity, he seemed so innocent to Lana. An encounter with the Darkness might end all that. The creature in the mine had left its stain on her soul, and she didn’t want that same thing to happen to her trusting and loyal protector.
Lana retrieved her bag. From it she drew a letter, neatly sealed in a white business envelope. She handed it to Cookie. “Look, if something does happen, you take this to Sam or Astrid. Okay?”
“Healer…” He was reluctant to take it.
“Cookie. Take.” She placed it in his hand and closed his fingers around it. “Good. Now, listen, I need you to do something else while I’m gone.”
“What?”
She forced a smile. “I’m so hungry, I could eat Patrick. Look around this dump and see if you can find something to eat. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
She turned toward the door and plunged out into the night before he could argue any further.
Lana slipped her hand into her bag, wrapped her fingers around the cold plastic grip of the pistol. She pulled it out and let it hang by her side.
She was going to get the key from the dead miner. If Pack Leader showed up to stop her, she would shoot him.
