Chapter 11: The Vault

The storm came over the north ridge at four on Wednesday, and by five the mine office was dark.

We had driven up to pull the original contracts from the records vault.

I had told Padraig where I was going, as Alasdair's rule required.

Alasdair had driven.

He drove with both hands on the wheel and said nothing for twenty minutes, and I watched the rain come sideways across the windshield.

The vault sat at the back of the building, a steel room with shelves to the ceiling and one heavy door.

I found the 2019 folder in six minutes.

I was reaching for the second one when the lights went out.

Then the door swung shut behind us with a long metallic thunk.

"Alasdair?"

"I'm here."

His voice came from a foot away.

I heard him try the handle and shove his shoulder against the steel.

"It's an electronic lock," he said. "The power cut engaged it."

"Can you break it?"

"I could. It would take the wall with it." He exhaled. "There's a reset at nine in the morning, on the generator."

"Nine in the morning."

"Yes."

I stood in the dark with a folder against my chest.

"Well," I said. "At least you brought a sandwich."

I heard him laugh.

It was a short, startled sound.

I realized I had never heard it before.

He found his phone, and the little light made a pale circle on the floor.

We sat with our backs against opposite shelves, with the circle between us.

He unwrapped the sandwich and tore it in half and held out a piece.

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