Adventure of Dallas Fontaine 2

The work lamp throws a harsh cone over the locked wheel and the hanging wire. Beneath it, the tunnel breathes, slow and wet, like something big dragging itself closer.

Murderbone plants himself at Dallas Fontaine's heel, ears forward, teeth bared at the dark seam in the wall. The scraping stops. Then a shape crowds the opening, low and broad, wrapped in torn work cloth and grease.

Clara stumbles back from the hatch, terrified, as the thing in the tunnel forces one arm out. A gloved hand, a shoulder, and a mask smeared with dust appear in the light. Not a monster, just a man, rigged with tools and panic.

The intruder lunges toward the control wheel, trying to finish the collapse. Murderbone launches first, and the tunnel mouth erupts into a snarling tangle of boots, breath, and flashing metal. Dallas stands at the center of it, revolver up, the wedding hall above waiting on his next move.

Dallas fires once. The shot bites the intruder’s leg, and he drops hard against the wire-littered floor, wrench skidding away under the lamp.

Murderbone slams into him, driving him flat before he can reach the wheel. The tunnel mouth spits dust into the light.

The unknown worker flinches at the crack, then freezes when the crippled man starts clawing for the scattered tools.

Murderbone kept the intruder down while Jackson stared into the dark tunnel and listened.

By dawn, the banquet hall stood bruised but standing, its hidden damage contained and its second sabotage broken. Dallas Fontaine had bought the room its future with grit, steel, and one clean shot. The wedding would go on beneath a ceiling that survived the night.