I fell to my knees, scooping up handfuls of coins out of the inch-deep pool. All I could see at first was this red, glowing spot where the flare used to be, but as my eyes got used to the dark, I saw there was a shaft of cool, white moonlight coming straight down on us from above. And it smelled like fresh air too. Brand was taking in these big, deep breaths, like he was out of the elevator again. As the guys were stuffin' their pockets with coins, I looked close at my handful. Pennies. Lincoln-head pennies. Data was looking closer too. “What year was that map made?” Then Mouth started checking. “Few hundred years before Lincoln… Washington… Eisenhower… Roosevelt… Martin Sheen—” “That's President Kennedy, crater face. We must be at the bottom of the old Wishing Well,” said Stef. She was right. It was mostly pennies down here, with dimes and quarters scattered around.
