Then a terrible cracking sound.
I stumbled backward.
The iron pot rattled against the stove.
A small jar fell from the shelf and shattered.
The deputy grabbed the signal line.
Pulled.
Waited.
Nothing.
He pulled again.
No answer.
I stared toward the dark entrance.
"William!"
The deputy raised one hand.
"Stay back!"
I held Annie tightly.
Dust rolled from the pantry doorway.
The mountain beneath our home had shifted.
And the men were still inside.
For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.
The deputy shouted again.
"Anyone there?"
Silence.
Then, faintly, from below, came a voice.
"Here!"
I nearly collapsed.
William.
He was alive.
The deputy leaned toward the tunnel.
"Can you move?"
A pause.
Then another voice answered.
"One injured! Passage blocked!"
The deputy looked toward the doorway.
Then toward me.
"We need more help."
I nodded.
My hands shook.
But I forced myself to think.
The old map.
The warning.
The lower chamber.
I looked down.
Then saw something I hadn't noticed before.
A narrow line branching away from the main tunnel.
It curved toward the north side of the property.
Toward the creek.
A secondary exit.
I grabbed the map.
"There's another passage."
The deputy looked at me.
"What?"
I pointed.
"Here."
He leaned closer.
Studied the lines.
Then frowned.
"That leads toward the creek."
"Yes."
"Do you know the entrance?"
I shook my head.
"But William mentioned an old collapsed tunnel near the limestone bluff."
The deputy's expression changed.
He turned toward another man.
"Get the sheriff."
Within minutes, the map was carried outside.
Two experienced workers examined it.
They recognized several landmarks.
The creek.
The bluff.
The old ventilation shaft.
One man nodded.
"This could be an emergency route."
The sheriff looked toward me.
"Where did the girl get this?"
I glanced toward Annie.
"Her mother gave it to her."
He studied me.
Then nodded.
"We'll follow it."
The rescue effort continued through the night.
Men worked near the creek.
They cleared snow.
Removed fallen branches.
Located a stone opening partly hidden beneath roots.
Then began carefully examining the old supports.
Inside the cabin, Annie refused to sleep.
She sat beside me with her head resting against my shoulder.
Every so often, she whispered, "Is Papa coming back?"
I stroked her hair.
"People are working very hard to bring him home."
She nodded.
Then asked, "Will Mama come too?"
My throat tightened.
"I hope so."
The little girl looked toward the fire.
Then whispered, "She said she was sorry."
I looked down.
"What?"
Annie's eyes filled.
"Mama said she made a big mistake."
I remained silent.