Caitriona and Sean ate a silent meal of hot stew and bread in the room they secured at his friend’s inn. When they first arrived at the inn, Caitriona felt the unease and tension that surrounded the innkeeper. She had watched as Sean embraced his friend, the two of them huddling together for several minutes, talking in low tones. Occasionally, both men would look over at her and she would smooth the wrinkles from her a-line skirt and white shirt, nervously aware that theirs were not the only eyes on her in the room. After several minutes, Sean had walked over to her and pointed to the stairs. “It’s not luxury accommodations, but it’s warm, dry, and you can get a good night’s sleep.”

Now she looked up as Sean set his fork down noisily. “You look like you’re about to drop from exhaustion,” Sean said, interrupting her ruminations. Stifling a yawn, Caitriona ate the last of her stew and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, not caring that it wasn’t the most ladylike gesture she’d ever performed. She glanced up to see Sean staring at her. She lowered her eyes, uncomfortable with the scrutiny of his penetrating gaze. There was something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She just needed some rest.

Gathering the empty bowls and placing them outside the door for the staff to collect, Sean pointed to the large four-poster bed. “Go ahead and take the bed,” he said chivalrously. “These chairs look like they’ve got my name on them,” he added, pushing the two chairs together and retrieving a pillow from the bed.

She eyed him skeptically but said nothing. Her surroundings were still unfamiliar to her. And despite the fact they’d walked for what seemed like the better part of a day, Sean had told her they were still in New Washington. She needed to find out what was meant by New Washington and how she got here. So many questions and zero answers, she thought with dismay. Perhaps in the daylight she’d be able to get a better look at her surroundings and begin to piece together the puzzle. The last thing she needed was to succumb to the panic that threatened to overtake her.

“This is where you jump in and suggest we both can be adults and share the same bed,” he said, with hope. His voice trailed off.

She didn’t say a word, just eyed the bed, weighing her need for sleep versus her distrust of this man. She sat on the edge of the bed and, using her good arm, tugged her boots off. Lost in her own thoughts, Caitriona missed the knock on the outer chamber doors. It wasn’t until she heard voices heatedly exchanging words that she cast a glance at Sean, who was already rising and motioning for her to be silent. She quickly pulled her boots back on, the adrenaline pumping through her body.

Pulling a small knife from his belt, Sean motioned her across the room, out of sight and away from the path of anyone entering the room. Signaling for Caitriona to be still, Sean crept closer to the outer doors, tightening the grip on his knife. She reached for the weapon she had holstered at her hip, but realized she had taken it off when they sat down to eat. The weapon was on the other side of the room. Not that it mattered. The weapon didn’t look familiar and she had never fired a gun in her life—at least, not that she could remember.

Another knock, more insistent this time, caused Caitriona’s heart to beat erratically and she furtively looked around the room for an escape. They were trapped on the second floor and, while a jump from the window wouldn’t kill her, the soldiers would be on her before she’d be able to escape—assuming she could make the jump without breaking any bones.

“We have orders to search this room,” came a commanding voice from beyond the door.

Sean gestured for her to move into the bathing chamber.

“This place is locked down, Harrison. Neither of you are getting out of here. Surrender the woman now and Hawkins said you can walk free.”

Sean nodded his head slowly and Caitriona’s heart sank. He was going to give her up to Hawkins’ men. Her eyes darted around the room, frantically searching for a weapon she could use. She wasn’t getting out of here alive, but she’d be damned if she would go without a fight.

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” Sean yelled through the door.

Caitriona hitched her breath. Wrapping her hand in a towel, she hit the vanity mirror, watching it shatter in front of her. Dropping to the ground she grabbed the biggest piece she could find, wincing as the shards and jagged edges bit into her flesh, drawing blood. Somehow, she knew she’d suffer much worse if Hawkins took her.

“You don’t,” one of the soldiers yelled back. “But we’re coming through this door either as friend or as foe. Your choice.”

Sean backed toward her, noticing the jagged piece of glass she held in her hand.

“I’ll cut you from chin to navel if you touch me,” she hissed.

He gave her a lopsided grin and, grabbing her wrist, applied enough pressure that she dropped the makeshift weapon. She cried out as he reached above her, pushing open a hidden door that was recessed into the ceiling.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her. “But I am rather hurt that you went there.” He grinned at her, the smile lighting his eyes.

“Harrison,” the soldier yelled.

“Yeah, I know. We’re coming out so hold your fire. You be sure to tell Hawkins I had no idea who this woman was. I was just looking to get a little…friendly…for the evening.”

He cupped his hands in front of him, motioning for her to climb up into the crawl space. She stared at him as she realized he was helping her escape.

“Stay in the tunnels and continue south,” he told her. “I will try to catch up with you, but if you’re stopped, tell whoever stops you that you want to speak to Maeve and that I sent you. Say nothing until you see Maeve. Understand?”

“They’ll kill you.”

“They’ll try.” He winked at her and thrust his cupped hands near her foot.

He hoisted her into the space above as she heard the front door crash in. She crawled on her hands and knees as fast as she could, trying to tune out the noise of the weapons. When she heard a shout, she considered going back to help Sean, but knew it would be useless. Sean had likely given his life for hers. She wasn’t about to give up the only advantage she had and one for which he’d paid a heavy price.

After several minutes, the tunnel grew large enough to where she could stand and the terrain began to slope downhill, making her efforts easier. Every few feet she paused to listen for footsteps, but hearing nothing, she continued. She didn’t know how long she walked. The tunnels were pitch black, which made vision nearly impossible. A few times she felt something scurry past her feet. She shivered, not wanting to think about what kind of creatures traversed these tunnels.

Hearing muffled voices ahead of her in the corridor, she stopped, her heart beating a fast staccato as she assessed this newest threat. Looking around for any place to hide, she realized there was nowhere to go—at least nothing that she could see in the blackness of the tunnel. She had to go forward, reasoning that it was better to take her chances on what was in front of her rather than returning to the horror she had left behind. Still, perhaps she’d be better off waiting in the tunnel to see if Sean would join her. Given the amount of gunfire she left behind, she knew that was a long shot.

Pushing aside her fear, she crept forward, her hands splayed in front of her, picking her steps with care. A dim light in the distance flickered several times before being extinguished. She stopped, fear causing her heart to accelerate. Just as she mustered the courage to press on, an arm snaked around her waist pulling her tight against a hard body. In an instant, a large hand clamped over her mouth stifling the scream that threatened to erupt. She tried kicking and clawing at her attacker, but to no avail.

“Stop struggling, or I will cut off your air and you’ll find yourself waking in a not so pleasant place. Do you understand?”

She stopped fighting and nodded her head, his hand making the movement difficult.

“I’m going to remove my hand now, and we’re going to exchange pleasantries and information. If I so much as think you’re about to scream, I will lay you flat on the ground.”

She nodded again.

Her assailant pulled his hand away and she sucked in a deep gulp of air, releasing it slowly. “Let’s have a look at you,” he said, spinning her around so she was facing him. He lit a small source of light he held in his hand.

Caitriona was trembling. She had no idea if this man was friend or foe and, for not the first time, she realized how vulnerable she was.

“Well, you’re not much of a looker now, are you?” he mumbled, holding the light to her face. “And you certainly don’t look like you’d hold up in a summer breeze, but I reckon old Maeve will want to have a chat with you just the same.”

“Maeve?” she croaked. Her lips were dry and parched and her words sounded far away.

“You know old Maeve?” he asked her, hesitation in his voice.

“No, not personally,” she replied. “I was told by Sean Harrison to see Maeve. He said that if anyone could help me, it would be her.”

He laughed, a grin stretching across his face. “I reckon she can at that,” he said. “Name’s Jon Piper.” He held his hand out and she shook it hesitantly. “I won’t hurt you,” he said. “My bark’s far worse than my bite.”

“How did you know I was here?” she asked.

“I didn’t. I come down in these tunnels every night to see if there are refugees needing help. We haven’t had any though for months, so it was a bit of a surprise to find you down here.” He motioned for her to start walking as he lit a small handheld light that dimly lit the path before them. “What’s your name, young lady?”

“Catie,” she said for the second time that night. Somehow it just felt better—safer—to not provide anyone with her real name. She had no idea what lengths Hawkins might go to find her—and she wasn’t about to test it and find out.

“Well, Catie. Do you mind telling me what you’re doing down in these tunnels? Aside from coming to see old Maeve?”

She didn’t say anything and they continued to walk in silence.

“How do you know Sean Harrison?” he asked.

She was beginning to feel uncomfortable with his line of questioning. After all, Sean’s instructions were clear: talk to no one. She continued walking, hoping he wouldn’t continue pressing her for answers.

“It would be best if we put as much distance between us and New Washington as we can,” he said when it was clear she wasn’t going to answer his questions.

She nodded. She was exhausted, but Jon was right; they needed to keep moving. “How far until we reach Maeve?”

He chuckled. “That all depends.”

“On what?” She stopped walking. She didn’t like his cryptic answer and casual tone.

“Relax, Catie. If I had wanted to hurt you, I could have done so by now.”

She folded her arms tight around her middle and started walking again. It was cold in the tunnels and the clothes Sean had given her were hardly any better than the torn garments she left behind.

“Maeve rarely sees people,” he said, slowing his pace so she could keep up with him.

“Why not?”

“She’s a bit of an enigma in these parts. There’s lots of legend and folklore. Maeve doesn’t dissuade the myths, but she doesn’t encourage them either.”

“What kind of legends?”

“There’s some that say she’s a psychic. She can see things, can tell if people are pure of heart. Some have called her a witch; say she can heal the sick and afflicted. Dwellers living in these tunnels revere her, keep her safe and protected. If Hawkins found her, he’d kill her, so she keeps hidden. Lets Hawkins think she’s folklore and myth. It’s safer that way.”

Caitriona straightened. Maybe Maeve could help her. Perhaps Maeve could help her get back to Seattle and shed some light on how she ended up in this strange place.

“But you know where Maeve is?” Caitriona questioned.

“More or less. No one finds old Maeve—it’s more like Maeve finds them. Sort of perpetuates her urban legend, I suppose.”

Caitriona stumbled and pitched forward, exhaustion taking its toll. Jon reached for her, keeping her on her feet. She winced as his fingers pressed a little too hard into her shoulder, the pain a reminder that the wound was just beginning to heal.

“You’re hurt,” he observed. It was more of a statement than a question.

She nodded, unsure if he could see her movement in the dim light of the tunnel.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he growled. “Do you have any other wounds?”

“My left foot is still recovering from frostbite,” she confessed. “I’ll be alright, though.”

“We’ve got over 10 km in front of us,” he warned. “Are you up for that?”

Caitriona did a rough calculation in her head and knew there were about six miles ahead of her. She wanted to cry. No, what she really wanted was to curl up in a ball and just sleep; and when she woke, she wanted to be back in her comfortable, Seattle apartment.

She nodded, again not sure if he could see her in the dark. “I’ll be fine. I just…can we just slow down a bit?”

He stared at her for a few seconds and Caitriona wondered what he could possibly see in the indistinct light. Reaching one arm around her back, he placed his other arm under her knees and scooped her into his arms.

At her protest, he said, “You can’t possibly weigh more than 50 kilograms—I’ve carried more than that, in twice this distance, during training exercises.”

“But…”

“We’ll make better time this way,” he assured her. “Just rest.”

She didn’t want to argue. It felt good to be off her feet and in this man’s arms. He was strong, capable, sure of himself. She still didn’t know if she could trust him, but she was out of options. So instead, she nestled into his arms and closed her eyes, the sound of his heartbeat lulling her to sleep.