The Destiny Detour

A Rocky Situation

Drake

Drake had two horses and an intuitive knack for running from trouble. He had no problem slipping Daniella out of the spread out little town that was more of a glorified mining camp and winding up into the mountains. He took paths randomly, choosing ones that had fallen into disuse. Eventually, his maze of crumbling mountain trails led him to a boarded up hole in the mountain.

Words were painted across the boards in bright red, bearing a warning in both Taragonian and Terran: DANGER. UNSTABLE MINE SHAFT. Perfect. No one would bother coming out here.

He was already walking both horses at this point, and he gestured for his grumpy prisoner to slide down. She glared back.

"You have to be thirsty," he coaxed. "Gags are murder on your throat. I'll untie it first thing. You can even scream at me if it would make you feel better."

She sniffed and considered his offer before swinging her leg over the horse. He stopped her freefall gently, seeing as how her hands were still bound. True to his word, he loosened the knot at the back of her head and slipped the gag out of her mouth, wordlessly holding a water skin to her lips.

Daniella backed away after a mouthful of water, swished the liquid in her mouth, and spat the water on the ground before consenting to take a real drink from the water skin.

"An abandoned mine?" she sneered after swallowing.

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?" Drake asked.

"No," snapped Daniella. "Mostly because you're not sorry."

She had a point.

"Bad choice of words," he admitted, flipping out a knife.

Her eyes widened when he approached, and she shrank backwards, which was an understandable reaction to a knife-wielding kidnapper. "We're going into a clearly labeled unstable mine shaft," he explained. "On the off chance it does cave in, I'd rather not have to carry you or have your death on my already-strained conscience."

She held out her bound wrists without breaking the death stare she had locked on him. He sliced the ropes binding her hands, and they fell to the ground. Daniella rubbed her wrists, and he handed over the water skin, which she took.

"You're not from here," she said, like she was spitting the words at him. "What do you know about mines?"

"Yes," he agreed, eying the dark maw in the side of the mountain. "Neither are you, but if you have relevant mine knowledge, feel free to break it out any time. I don't want to die buried under half a mountain."

She had no relevant mine knowledge she felt like sharing with him, so he grabbed his bag and the crate, and he led Daniella under the ominous boards into the dark mouth of the mine. He stopped just as the tunnel narrowed and plunged into darkness. Did animals move into abandoned mine shafts? They might not have been able to read signs, but certainly the local wildlife knew well enough to avoid a mine on the verge of caving in, he hoped. What exactly did that say about him?

"This is far enough for now," he announced.

"You could have killed me just as well out there," scoffed Daniella. "Were you too lazy to carry the body?"

He did not bother objecting to the murder accusation. "I need us in a slightly defensible position when the Flifary show up," he answered.

"Friends of yours?" she snapped.

"Nope," he disagreed. "They wouldn't be my enemies, either, but they took Rosaliy, and they're searching for you."

She twinged at the name—just a shadow of surprise—and he would have loved to explore the reaction, but she would not be telling him anything right now. He used the cloth that had formerly served as a gag to brush off a wooden box against the wall. He waved for Daniella to sit. She snatched the cloth out of his hand and spread it on the box before she settled down in a regal manner. She drank another sip of water. Her restraint was incredible. He knew from experience how unpleasant gags could be. By now, he would have downed that entire water skin to get the feeling of moisture-sapping fabric out of his mouth.