Alliance

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Okay. Tunnels were not my things. I didn't know I had so many phobias before coming on this mission. Now I was fearful of heights and tunnels.

Ben walked before me, his hand tight around mine. Tighter than normal actually, if I didn't know better I thought he might be scared.

"So," I said softly. We had reached the bottom of the staircase and now walked down the straight hallway. "Are you a little claustrophobic?"

Ben did not turn to me. "No, why?"

A smile flicked on my face. His words were strained. "No reason. I just can't feel my fingers."

"Oh." His grip loosened.

"No, it's fine. Just cute that you actually have a fear."

"I have fears," Ben said, he continued to walk, not turning to me. "I'm scared of losing the people that I love."

"That is a normal fear," I snapped. "I mean a true fear. A phobia."

The lights on the wall flickered and we froze. We watched the closest bare light bulb flicker before it went out with the rest of the lights. For a heartbeat, we stood still in the darkness. Then the lights flicked back on.

Ben looked down at me. "And you said I was scared." His eyes narrowed to where my hands gripped his arm.

I loosened my hands. "Prick. Keep going."

He only chuckled as he turned. Before us was the stairwell that led up to the surface. So badly, I wanted to run to it. Though no one else was in the tunnel, it felt like someone was breathing down my neck. Only once I made the mistake of turning to look behind us. There was nothing there but bricks. But I half expected to see a shadowy figure.

We reached the staircase and climbed.

Unlike the way we entered, there was no door as an exit. Instead, the stairs led straight up through a hole in the ground.

"Good, you guys made it," Noah said at the top of the stairs. We exited the staircase. We were out in the desert. Turning, I found Vegas to be several miles away.

"How long is the tunnel?" I asked Noah. He was placing the trap metal door back over the tunnel entrance. "Above five to six miles. Not counting the stairs. Help me with this rock."

Ben walked over to where Noah leaned against a large rock that looked more like a boulder. But it was lighter than a boulder as two of the men easily pushed it over the door.

"Okay," Noah said, walking around Ben toward a jeep that had no doors or windows. Probably not the safest vehicle to be riding in. We jumped in and Noah took off over the desert toward the military post.

"So," Noah said over the engine and wind. "Everyone is there. The plane should be ready to take off when we arrive."

I sat in the middle of the backseat. One arm hand on the duffle bag to keep it from bouncing too much.

When we exited the Palace about an hour ago, it was dusk. Now it was totally dark. The surroundings were dark. There was a feeling in the pit of my stomach I could not shake.

My eyes focused back on Noah. He drove with one hand on the wheel, his right hand. His hand was bandaged like his own but unlike my hand, he had four fingers instead of five.

"How's your hand?" I asked.

"It is alright," Noah said. "I am annoyed that he cut off my finger I use to pull a gun trigger. I am trying to get used to using my middle finger. Hey Mel, I am sorry about the fingernail. I thought that may be better than taking a whole finger."