Written in the Scars(77)

“How far down is that?” I ask. I’m not sure why it matters, but it does.

“About three hundred to four hundred feet below the surface,” Vernon answers stiffly. “The ramp they used for ingress and egress is sealed. We’ve tried to remove the debris and reach them through that channel, but it’s too tight and we can’t guarantee more internal collapse wouldn’t happen if we disturbed the wrong area.”

“So what do we do?” Lindsay asks.

Reed clears his throat. “Right now, we’re digging an air hole into this spot.” He uses a yard stick to point to a location inside the circled area. “This is where we believe your husbands to be.”

My heart skips a beat as I stare intently at the little black dot on this dingy, white piece of paper.

“We’ve begun to drill, just a few minutes ago, a tube that will hopefully lead us to the men,” Reed says.

“That’s fantastic!” Lindsay says, sinking back in the sofa. “Oh, God, please let it find them. Please let it find them,” she chants.

“I do want to point out,” Vernon says, side-eyeing Lindsay, “that this does not come without risks.”

“What risks?” I ask, glaring at him.

“Somehow, the crew mined into what we call an ‘old works.’ That’s a mine that was dug before maps were taken of where the work was done. We didn’t know it existed. But it does and it was there and once they bored into the side of it, that’s what caused the collapse.”

I fling forward in my seat. “So can we get to them from there? Can we find the opening to that mine and go in that way?”

“No,” he says, killing the butterflies that frolicked hopefully in my stomach. “We have no idea where that mine opened and closed. Remember, we didn’t know it existed until now. And usually these things are filled with water, which poses a threat.”

“What kind of a threat?” I ask, feeling Dr. Walker’s hand squeeze my shoulders.

“If the miners have managed to find an open space and it fills with water . . . there would be nowhere for them to go.”

My hand shakes as I reach for Dr. Walker. He collapses his palms around mine.

“We can’t do anything about that right now,” Reed says. “But what we can do is try to reach them from the top. Like Vernon said, water is a big threat right now, and unfortunately, Indiana has a water table that sits right above where we need to be. We’re going to have to cut through that to get to them.”

“Wait,” I say, sitting up. “But won’t that drain down into where they are?”

“It could,” Reed says warily. “But we’re hoping the pocket we hit will be dry or low. There’s really no way to tell until we get there.”

“My God . . .” Lindsay moans, bringing her hands in front of her in prayer. “Please help us.”

My gaze fixes on Greta. “Are you married?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then, wife to wife, bring my husband home.”





TY


Water droplets hit me in the face, causing soot from my blackened face to run into my eyes. I wipe them as best as I can and listen as the drilling gets closer.

We stand in a line, our eyes towards the ceiling, illuminated by Jiggs’ headlamp, waiting for any indication where the drill may break through. Waiting, too, for any indication that the ceiling may crack and we’re buried into the dirt like fossils. The walls of this tomb seem to squeeze together with every minute that passes, the air tasting more putrid, the noise of the drill more deafening.

A hand lands on my shoulder and I look at Cord. He smiles, his teeth spattered with bits of black coal dust. His grin is easy, and if we weren’t here, something casual like, “Hey, want to shoot some hoops?” or “Want to take Yogi to the lake with me?” would pass his lips.

But we are here. In this hellhole. One I’m beginning to think, with every creak of the ceiling, may be our final resting place. The “death” of “til death do us part.”

Shivering, I blow out a final rush of air. “Do you think it’ll hold?” I ask, nodding towards the roof that once was held upright by timbers. Those timbers have fallen, jags of rock and debris hang mercilessly from above like stalactites in a cave.

The drilling stops.

“I figure it’s going to bust through over there,” Cord says, nodding past Jiggs.

“Yeah,” Jiggs agrees, his teeth chattering. “The water is dripping like crazy over there too. I’m guessing they’re going through some sort of water table and it’s pressurizing down here.”

Cord and I exchange a look, knowing the possibilities. And that if the worst case scenario happens and this cavern starts to fill—there’s nowhere to go.

The buzzing starts again, more powerfully this time, as we make our way to what used to be the ramp out. The walls shake, pieces of rock and ore falling away and crashing through the room.

My heart races, my blood soaring through my head, making me dizzy. I’ve never been so helpless. All I can do is watch the room shake ferociously, watch the water trickle in more quickly, listen to the sound of the drills scream. My fate is in someone else’s hands.

“Hold on,” Cord says over the chaos. The cavern shakes violently as the three of us crouch in a corner. I can hear Jiggs’ prayers, the same one Elin whispers when she’s nervous, one their mother taught them when they were little.