Chapter 6
The heavy mechanical lock was choked with decades of red mountain clay and rusted iron shavings.
Vincent jammed the brass key into the vertical slot, applying steady, agonizing pressure until the internal tumblers refused to turn.
"Come on, open," he muttered under his breath, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
With a sharp, prayerful twist of his wrist, he forced the key past the resistance with a loud, satisfying metallic click.
The heavy steel door groaned on its ancient grease, breaking the vacuum seal with a sharp hiss of escaping air.
A wave of stale, freezing oxygen rushed out from the subterranean depths, smelling strongly of ozone, copper, and old paper.
Vincent slipped inside the narrow entryway, pulling the heavy steel door shut behind him and throwing the manual locking bolts into place.
Total, suffocating silence enveloped him as he flicked on a small tactical flashlight attached to his key ring.
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The beam cut through the thick dust motes floating in the underground corridor, illuminating a descending flight of concrete steps.
He descended cautiously into the bowels of the mountain, his footsteps echoing softly against the damp subterranean walls.
