The Glowing Tide
The air in the drainage tunnels was thick with the smell of wet earth and a sharp, metallic tang that burned the back of Silas's throat. He shifted Elias's weight, the Sheriff's head lolling against Silas's shoulder. Behind them, the faint orange glow of the burning town above filtered through the iron grates, but ahead, the darkness was absolute, save for the sickly green luminescence clinging to the damp walls. Mabel held the lantern high, its light catching the strange, heavy ore in Silas’s pocket, which seemed to pulse in sympathetic vibration with the mineral-rich sludge beneath their boots. Rat Connors scurried ahead, his small frame splashing through ankle-deep water that was rising faster than the natural drainage should allow. 'He’s doing it,' Rat hissed, his voice echoing off the stone. 'Finch opened the sluice gates from the North Vein. He’s gonna wash us and the whole secret out to the canyon floor.' Silas adjusted his grip on his Winchester, the 'Project Crucible' map crinkled in his vest. The map showed a junction where the drainage met the illegal shafts—a place where the water would be deepest, but the exit would be closest. As they reached the North Vein Junction, the walls opened up into a cavernous space where the glowing minerals grew in jagged, crystalline clusters. The sound of rushing water grew from a trickle to a roar.
