AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What failsafe? What are you talking about?”
“In the event of a police raid, they flip a switch in one of the rooms that’s connected to dynamite wired in the walls. It closes off one end of the tunnel, so the only way in, or out, is through Mexicali. They flee, and you’ll never see Father Damon again.”
“Only a portion of the tunnel is lined with the explosives?”
“Yes. It’s marked in the walls how far the explosives are buried.”
“So, if we were on the other side of that threshold, in one of the rooms, we’d be on the same side as the non-exploding half of the tunnel.”
“Yes. The same side as a half dozen members of Exilio. You’d have a better chance of being trapped with lions in a cage.”
“Unless we separate them from Damon, somehow.”
The priest’s gaze flicks from me, to Sergio, and down to the M-eighty, before circuiting back to me. “They’re not stupid, like lemurs falling into a trap.”
My mind spins with a plan that’s probably dumb as hell, but the only chance I have to get Damon out of there alive. Assuming he’s still alive. “Unless they think they’re under attack by more than just one person.”
“Good luck finding anyone to face off with Exilio in this town.”
“We don’t need to find anyone.” A smile stretches my face, and when I look over at Sergio, who wears an equally devious smile, I know he’s thinking the same thing. I think he is, anyway.
Weird if he is, to be honest.
“Well, like I said,buena suerte.”
“Oh. Didn’t we tell you, Father?” Sergio tugs the gun from his pocket—the same gun I specifically told him to leave in the car. “You’re coming with us. Just in case we need a miracle down there.”
“Young man, it is a grievous sin to threaten a man of the cloth.”
“I’ll be sure to repent later.” With a flick of his wrist, he urges him up off the desk and onto his feet. “It’s time to go blow shit up.”
* * *
Dim lights hum overhead, as I stand leaning against the walls, half heartedly holding the gun on the priest. Eyes trailing over the concrete and dirt, I wonder what it would take to set off the explosives inside, without pulling the switch.
Crouched to the ground, Sergio sets up a variety pack of fireworks he gathered from his trunk.
“You just … drive around with fireworks in your car?” I ask, over the thrum of anxiety racing through my veins.
Smiling, he lays down an object that looks like a rocket, propping it beside the others stretched across the width of the tunnel. “You’d be surprised how often they come in handy. Pranks. Diversions. Or just messing around, sometimes.”
The plan, as it has haphazardly rolled out, is that the priest and I will venture farther down the tunnel and hide in one of the rooms, until the gang members, lured by the clamor of fireworks, pass through to investigate, then we’ll keep on toward the room that houses the failsafe and flip the magic switch. Assuming Damon isn’t blown up in the process, or any one of us, for that matter, we keep on into Mexicali, where Sergio will pick us up at the restaurant in which the tunnel apparently exits.
I jerk my head toward a small alcove carved into the wall, where a shrine of Mary has been set up. “What’s that for?”
“The workers who built the tunnels. To keep them safe,” the priest says. “Protected, while they worked down here. Aside from the tunnels caving in, I suppose they had the added stress of the explosvies going off.”
“Go off? Like, on their own?” Prompted by the thought of such a thing, I push off from the wall, rubbing the goosebumps along my arms. “How far is the failsafe from the explosion?”
With a shrug, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Few hundred feet, I’m guessing.”
“How did you get involved in all of this?”
Brows raised, he huffs. “Not entirely by choice, if you must know. I agreed to the rectory being used as a means to house refugees, many of whom have endured violence and threats of death. It is the sanctity of this church, of those who follow God, to welcome all.” He tells me this as if he’s compelled to defend himself, but it’s not the refugees I’m inquiring about. “Gordon donated the funds to construct both the house and tunnels. Unfortunately, they happened to be an effective route to transport … other items.”
“Drugs.”
“There is no good without the bad, I suppose. I chose to look away from the bad, in order to focus on the good.”
