Chap. 4: Footsteps in the Dark

The silence didn’t last.

A sound stirred at the mouth of the cave—light, rhythmic. Footsteps.

I sat bolt upright, heart pounding all over again. Ethan’s head snapped toward the noise. “Did you hear that?”

I nodded, already moving, every nerve wide awake.

Another step. Closer.

I crept toward the entrance, hugging the stone wall. My breath felt louder than it should’ve been. I peeked outside.

Smoke still curled through the trees, and glowing orange flickers hinted that the fire was still alive—just quieter now.

Then—snap.

“Rowan?” a voice called through the haze. Familiar. Weak.

My heart jumped. “Ms. Linley!”

She stumbled into view, coughing, hair matted and face streaked with ash. But she was alive.

I ran to her, helping her into the cave. Ethan followed, his eyes full of tears. The moment she saw him, she pulled him close and whispered, “Praise God.”

“We thought we lost you,” I said, voice breaking.

“I thought the same,” she replied softly, sinking down to the cave floor. “But I kept hearing something… like rushing water… I followed it. It led me here.”

She looked around the cave, her eyes thoughtful. “God doesn’t waste anything—even a fire.”

I sat beside her, heart slowly calming. Ethan leaned on her shoulder, finally safe again.

For a few minutes, we didn’t say much. Just let the coolness of the cave wrap around us like a blanket.

Then I said, “Ms. Linley… there’s something else. Before we found the stream, I saw something.”

“What did you see?”

“A glow. Like glass catching the light. Blue.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Like the hidden room.”

I nodded.

She looked up at the back wall. “Then we’re in the right place.”

I followed her gaze—and saw it. Barely visible unless you were looking closely: faint markings carved into the rock. Lines, swirls, shapes that looked almost like letters, but not any I recognized.

“Is that…?”

“I think it’s a map,” Ms. Linley whispered. “Or part of one. Hidden here for who knows how long.”

I reached out, brushing my fingers against the stone. It felt… warm. But not from the fire. Like something inside it was alive.

“Rowan,” Ethan said, tugging at my sleeve, “listen.”

I stilled. So did Ms. Linley.

Drip.

A faint splash echoed inside the cave—behind the carved wall.

“There’s more,” she said, standing slowly. “This cave… it’s not the end. It’s the beginning.”

“There’s a tunnel back there,” I said. “I think I felt air coming from it earlier.”

She grabbed her flashlight from her bag and turned it on. The beam flickered but held steady. She pointed it at the crack in the stone wall.

“It’s narrow,” she said. “But it’s open.”

Ethan looked nervous. “You think it’s safe?”

Ms. Linley met his eyes. “It’s safer than going back.”

We gathered our things, my fingers brushing the carved wall one last time.

And as we stepped toward the shadows, one quiet thought lit up in my heart:

God didn’t lead us into the fire to leave us in it.

He led us through.

To be continued…