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Sam nodded. “Let’s give it another hour. If a red carpet exit doesn’t materialize, we’ll turn back, have a rest, then tackle the pit.”
“Deal.”
Accustomed to hardship, of both the mental and the physical variety, Sam and Remi fell into a rhythm: walk for twenty minutes, pause for two minutes to rest, take a compass bearing and update the map, then onward again. The remaining time of their journey passed quickly. Left foot, right foot, repeat. To conserve light, Remi had long ago turned off her headlamp, and Sam had set his to its lowest setting, so they found themselves moving in the faintest of twilights. The cold air gushing through the floor seemed colder, their footing harder to maintain, the tinkle of falling icicles jarring to their numbed brains.
Suddenly Sam stopped. Her reactions at half speed, Remi bumped into him. Sam whispered. “Do you feel that?”
“What?”
“Cold air.”
“Sam, it’s—”
“No, in our faces. Ahead. Will you dig the lighter out of my pack?”
Remi did so and handed it to him. Sam took a few steps forward, looking for a solid section of floor between plumes. He found a suitable spot, stopped, and clicked on the lighter. Remi squeezed herself in next to Sam and peered around his arm. Flickering yellow light danced off the icy walls. The flame wavered, then steadied and stood straight up.
“Wait.” Sam murmured, eyes on the flame.
Five seconds passed.
The flame wobbled, then shot sideways, back toward Sam’s face.
“There!”
“Are you sure?” Remi asked.
“The air feels warmer now too.”
“Wishful thinking?”
“Let’s find out.”
They walked for ten feet, stopped, checked the lighter’s flame. Again it angled backward, this time more strongly. They proceeded twenty more feet and repeated the process, with the same result.
From Remi: “I hear whistling. Wind.”
“Me too.”
Another fifty feet brought them to a fork in the tunnel. Lighter held before him, Sam proceeded down the left tunnel, without luck, then down the right. The flame quavered, then a sudden gust nearly blew it out.
Sam shed his pack. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a flash.”
He switched his headlamp to its brightest setting and disappeared into the tunnel. Remi could hear his feet scuffing along the floor, the sound growing fainter by the second.
Remi checked her watch, waited ten seconds, checked it again.
“Sam?” she called.
Silence.
“Sam, answer—”
Ahead in the darkness his headlamp reappeared.
“Sorry,” he said.
Remi let her head drop.
