She was alive. The dust was clearing, and every part of her felt fine. She'd made it through the cave-in unscathed. Barb dusted off her dress. The shattering of the rocks still echoed, the sharpness of the vibrations making her wince.
Although her eyes had adjusted, she couldn't see much, not when the darkness was this advanced. She swung her hand up, once again shining her phone's light over the scene.
The other imp had not fared so well.
At first glance, he seemed to have gotten by without issue, until her eyes landed on his tail, which was now trapped under a pile of rocks.
Barb allowed herself to smile. The situation had taken another turn for the worse, but this time she was in control.
Barb bent down to pick up the knife he'd dropped in the chaos. It lay inches from his outstretched hand.
"I'll be taking this, thank you." She sneered.
She straightened, then peered further down the cave. A quick glance back told her there was no chance of getting out the way she'd come in. The rocks were too large and too compacted to have any hope of being able to move them all. She'd likely end up crushed herself.
Besides, no matter how appealing getting back outside was, those two twisters were probably still out there, waiting.
She started down the path, not getting far before the other imp called out.
"Where do you think you're going?"
She turned, tapping her foot impatiently. "Where do you think? Anywhere but here." She knew nothing about cave systems, but this one so far seemed deep enough that hopefully there was a second entrance somewhere.
"Wait. Help me. If you do, I can get you out of here."
She snorted. "Sure. And the second I do, you definitely won't kill me, will you?" She laid the sarcasm on thick.
"I know these caves. Get this rock off me, and you can be headed back to whatever pretty little place you call home before morning."
"I have no home," she said sharply, his words touching a nerve she hadn't expected.
He tilted his head, about to say something when she cut him off.
"Fuck off." Barb's hands curled into fists as she stormed away.
"I'm serious," he called after her. "These tunnels are no joke. You'll be dead in a day before you have any idea where you are."
She wanted nothing more than to keep moving and leave him behind in the dark, only something told her it wouldn't be that simple. An unsettling emptiness loomed ahead. Barb paused, shoulders slumping. She had no clue what she was doing. He obviously knew it. There was just as much chance these caves would become her tomb as she'd get outside again. It would only take one wrong move to land her in the grave.
She put her hands on her hips. "And how do I know you won't kill me the second I help you?"
He gestured to her phone. "You've got the only light."
She certainly didn't trust him, but if he was telling the truth and could navigate their way out, she had nothing to lose. She needed the second set of eyes.
"Fine." She walked back then crouched down next to him. Barb grabbed the knot of his red bandana, yanking his head back and holding the knife to his throat. "But if you make any move for me, you're dead. I'll go for your balls first."
Getting the rocks off his tail required effort from both of them. No matter how badly it must've hurt, he didn't make a noise the entire time, just gritted his teeth. Barb didn't offer a hand to help him up.
He stood, and Barb was relieved to see he didn't have much height on her. His tail certainly could've been in worse condition, but she didn't think he'd be using it on her anytime soon, not if he wanted it to heal quickly. Her senses remained on high alert as he nodded to her, then flicked his attention to the path ahead.
"You lead." She shined the flashlight down the dark tunnel, gripping the knife tightly in her other hand. She didn't want him where she couldn't see him. Part of her already regretted helping him, but she still didn't see any other choice. At the very edges of her light's range, she could already see the tunnel starting to split in two directions up ahead.
He shrugged. "Whatever you say, darlin'."
"Call me darlin' again and we'll see where this knife ends up," Barb said sweetly, batting her eyes. She played with the knife between her fingers, casually, but enough to exhibit skill and promise. "You can call me Barb. Let's keep it at that, okay?"
She only ever went by her nickname- she'd started distancing herself from her full name years ago. An unintended benefit had come with it- if someone knew her as Barbie Wire, whether they'd met in person before or not, she wanted nothing to do with them. That girl was long gone.
She felt his eyes linger on the crossed out mark on top of her head. She fought to keep her expression unbothered. Disgust curled in her stomach. She ignored it.
"So who are you, cowboy?"
He regarded her from out of the corner of his eye before his attention returned forward. "Striker."
The name was familiar, but it took a moment before realization dawned on her. One of her former bosses had debated hiring him to take out an idiot that'd double-crossed him for his rival. Supposedly, if Striker's word-of-mouth reputation was to be believed, he was one of the best assassins in Hell, primarily working out of Wrath.
What the fuck was her luck lately? She'd finally got out of rehab, just for her brother to ruin her new start, then barely escaped flaming twisters with her life only to end up trapped in a cave with a career murderer.
Satan fucking damn it, her life sucked.
She kept her face bland and neutral. He was expecting a reaction, correctly assuming she'd heard of him. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
"Hm," was all she had to say. She shook her phone, light illuminating the cave, indicating to him he really needed to get moving now.
Striker eyed her with interest, but did as she indicated. She couldn't read him, unsure if her lack of acknowledgement of who he was had bothered him or not. His unpredictability was the most dangerous thing about him. She'd expected him to have made a move to hurt her, get rid of her, or at the very least disarm her by now, but he hadn't.
He'd followed her orders without much fight. Barb's expression grew uneasy.
"Tell me about these caves." She wanted to know more about her surroundings, and keep him distracted. Talking meant he wasn't thinking about killing her. Probably. She knew better than anyone how things could change in an instant.
"These mountains are covered in old mine shafts-"
"Abandoned?"
He regarded her with a smile that held a sinister edge. "We're alone, if that's what you're asking. No one comes down here if they can help it. Getting lost is a death sentence."
"Then why are you here?" She fiddled with the knife, pointing the tip in his direction.
"I have what you'd call a lair here. It was… compromised recently, but no matter what route you take it's not easy to get to. Usually." His left eye twitched in irritation. "But once we get there, we should be fine, for a while. Then you can be on your way."
"Right," Barb said absently, suddenly reminded of the fact that she hadn't sorted out any future plans since arriving in Wrath. It was a miracle the past thirty minutes hadn't resulted in a brutal headache.
His smile grew sharper. "This must be difficult for you. I'm sure your boyfriend and friends all miss you." He was needling her, purposely trying to get under her skin- and the worst part was it was working. "I'm surprised a pretty little thing like you has survived this long away from civilization. I bet you're from Pride."
Barb snapped. In an instant, she had the knife tip pointed at his throat. Anger blurred her vision.
"I don't know who you think I am, but I am not that girl," she snapped.
Striker stared down the length of the knife in amusement. "I can see that."
Barb seethed. "As long as we have an understanding." She brought the knife to the side of his face, running it down in a line just above the skin. She drew back, refusing to break eye contact. "Don't pretend you know me."
"Wouldn't dream of it, tumbleweed."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "The fuck did you just call me?"
He smirked and eased out of line of the knife, completely ignoring her as he moved deeper into the cave.
A noise escaped Barb, somewhere between a groan and a snarl, and she shoved him, pushing away from him and taking the lead instead.
Putting her hands on a known murderer in a violent fashion probably wasn't the best decision she'd ever made, but she wasn't exactly a saint herself. If she was going down, he was going with her.
She felt him way too close at her back and a moment later, practically breathing down her neck. She kept her posture straight, not bending to his pressure. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. Do not turn around and start hitting him.
She wasn't sure what it was about him that got to her so easily. Her reactions were likely just giving him more incentive to kill her the minute he got bored of playing this game. Still, she couldn't be bothered to try to rein herself in.
Barb shined her phone around the upcoming area, but it looked no different from anything else they'd passed. "How do we know when we're getting close to your 'lair?'"
"You'll know when you start to see the train tracks."
Barb blew out a breath. So far, the only defining features she'd seen were stalactites and stalagmites. If this cave were part of the old mines, it had either been a long time since anyone was down here, or it was a generally unexplored route into the mountains. She guessed the latter. She hadn't forgotten that Striker had already been injured when she found him. If his lair had been compromised as he claimed, if the easy routes were potentially being watched, then he would've wanted to keep a low profile coming upon his return. He must not have had anywhere else safe to go in his current state if he was risking coming back.
She hoped arriving with him wouldn't put a target on her back.
The deeper they went into the mountain, the stupider she began to feel for trusting him, especially as the path began to narrow, and suddenly they were easing along an impossibly thin ledge. They had to walk it sideways, backs to the rock behind them, It would be so easy for him to overpower her, steal her light source, and push her over the edge. Conversely, she supposed she could do the same to him, but then she'd lose her guide. After the twists and turns they'd taken, she wasn't dumb enough to think she could navigate them on her own. Instead, the two were stuck, relying on their uneasy lack of faith in each other.
Barb kept tight the edge, swallowing hard and refusing to look down. It'd all be worth it when she got out of here.
She'd spent her life growing up walking on tightropes, but the wider ledge scared her more than any thin rope she'd ever been on. The canyon below them was vast, and she couldn't see to the bottom. She glanced up, seeing no sign of the train tracks Striker had promised. Their conversation had ground to a halt, and she didn't feel like being the one to pick it up again.
Barb took a steadying breath and continued keeping pace behind Striker, who appeared completely unfazed by their current situation. She wondered how many times he'd walked this awful path before. She focused on moving her feet one at a time, keeping her other senses aware, hands pressed against the comforting stone behind her, ready to grab on for support should she need it.
They'd come to the end of the ledge, she realized, and now there was a gap between where she stood, and where the tunnel continued deeper into the mountain.
Striker had already cleared it before she'd noticed it. He waited expectantly for her on the other side, not saying a word.
It was one small leap, barely bigger than the length of two strides. She could do this. Striker waited, reptilian eyes watching her carefully. His hand twitched, starting to move toward her, as though offering it to her, but he clearly thought better of the idea and pulled back.
It was nothing. She'd done feats much more impressive back in her family's circus.
A tiny voice in the back of her head reminded her that back then, there was no danger of plummeting into an endless drop where nothing but death waited below. Back then, she could see what was waiting for her at the bottom if she fell.
She didn't give herself time to second guess. Barb jumped, landing neatly on the other side.
Striker nodded appreciatively and Barb smirked.
"Well," she began. "That wasn't-"
She was interrupted by an odd crackling sound, then the crumbling of rocks as they hit the edges of the rock wall. She looked up, confused. The rocks weren't falling from above, so where-
Barb screamed as the cavern floor gave out beneath her, and suddenly she was in free-fall.