Secret Spring by Shelley Adina

Author:Shelley Adina [Adina, Shelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Moonshell Books, Inc.

Chapter 6

Lora had only been half kidding about the spider webs. Really, it was tunnels she didn’t like, whether it was the London Underground, the St. Bernard highway tunnel in Switzerland, or a damp, earthy-smelling one like this, where no one had walked in almost a century. Tunnels tended to have water running along the bottom, and it being lonely in there, water tended to talk.

But this one, thank goodness, was only damp. And blessedly silent.

The pitch darkness ended after about a hundred yards, daylight gradually gathering strength as the walls changed from brick to granite to crumbling earth and rocks. The roof had fallen in, leaving an opening full of light, with ferns and columbines growing over the tumble of stones. Her hands tingled, and before she could even see it, she could hear the chatter of water.

“That’s Mayhew Creek,” she said suddenly, shutting off the flashlight app and shoving the phone in her pocket.

“Think we’ll come out under the bridge?”

“As long as we come out,” she said fervently. “My flesh, it creeps upon my bones.”

“That’s a spider.”

“Spike!”

He chuckled, and helped her squeeze through the gap past the mossy tumble of rocks and plants that blocked the tunnel’s mouth. They found themselves in the shallow ravine the creek had cut over time in the hill.

“I’m surprised kids haven’t found their way into the cellar,” he said. “If I saw a hole in the bank like that, I’d climb in to see what I could see.”

The creek whispered, sibilant and quick, about ladies waiting ... or maybe it was ladies in waiting.

“You forget this is Corsair’s Cove,” she said, trying to ignore the shiver creeping up her back. “Some of these places are haunted. Better than a guard dog.”

“Just to be sure, when we go back, I’m going to secure that door. If I can find the key that belongs to it.”

But she hardly heard him. She was too busy looking for a foothold to climb out of the ravine. “Come on. It’s cold down here,” she said. “I need to be up in the sun.” Away from the water. Before it told her something she didn’t want to hear, like the story of someone drowning or what had happened to the last kid who had made the mistake of exploring that tunnel.

Because she was absolutely sure that nobody would come in from this end. She didn’t know how she knew—that cold wind, the whisper of the creek weren’t what you’d call evidence—but there was a reason a fortune in jewelry and bills had never been discovered when the cabinet key had been lying right there in the dirt outside an unlocked door.

You had to come in through the bookcase. Only then would the ... feeling .... guarding this place leave you alone.

The very thought of it goosed her into a frantic scramble up the bank, which was ten vertical feet of rocks, bushes, and wild rose thickets whose thorns tore at her jeans and shirt. She and Spike emerged

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