25
Between the two good paws of the dog and Bev’s one good arm it wasn’t long before the base of the doorway was cleared away. Bev followed the worn edge around, clearing the overgrowth away from the sides and top as well, exposing an obvious entrance in the side of the hill with rock all around. Maybe an old mine.
The door was mostly wood, but was girded with metal bands and hardware that had tarnished black with time. She pushed and pulled it with no result. Extremely heavy, it was set in place.
“There has to be a way,” she thought out loud, searching the area for something, anything, she could use as leverage. She doubted the dry shrubbery in the arroyo would be sturdy enough. They would have to break through.
B paced at Bev’s heals as she looked around the area for some rocks. If
