Mr. Russell was moving rocks on number fourteen. Bert joined me back at the carts. He said that a rumor was circulating about Seventy-Eight. That was the last year the mine had operated under its previous owners, and it had shut down amidst controversy. Precipitating the closure was the unexplained loss of many men. Since then, Mr. Montgomery’s commission had explained it all. Most of the missing men had run off with stolen fortune from a chance hit on gold. In the town, old miners whispered a different tale. The mine was haunted and it woke up every so often to add to its legion of ghosts. Bert told me that our men were debating that version of history as we spoke.
He was right.
Furthermore, the men had settled on a course of action to alleviate the problem. They said that the mine wouldn’t be sated until it had taken the head man into its rocky guts. They were going to offer Mr. Russell’s blood to the mountain and hoped it was enough.
Bert is a good man, but I didn’t believe him. I knew all those men personally. Some were green, but none were unstable enough to drop into such insanity so quickly. I convened the group and told them to hold steady. I told them that help was surely on the way. All we had to do was keep our heads and stick together.
I should have made a count of heads before I began my entreaty. As it turned out, another of us was missing. A young man named Yancy Bell had vanished without a trace. Upon this discovery, the rest turned on Mr. Russell and beat his life quiet with their tools.
I’m ashamed to say that there was nothing I could say to stop them.
Being the second-highest ranking man there, I’m afraid that if I was seen to be against them, I would have been next on their list. Mr. Russell’s body was left in the dark at the back of the deepest shaft. We retreated to the junction and waited. Men linked arms to guard against another disappearance. Nobody moved alone.
We snuffed all but two of the lanterns to conserve our air. We’ve been sitting here in the near dark for what must be hours. Bert has Mr. Russell’s pocket watch, but didn’t think to wind it before it stopped.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Two more men have disappeared. They went down to number seventeen to relieve themselves and never returned. As a group, we’ve scoured every inch of our prison and found no trace. Mr. Russell’s body has gone missing as well.
Some of the men looked angrily to me, as if I might have some complicity in the disaster. Bert, being the new second-in-command, stayed strong with me and we argued them down. We heard the sounds of rescue coming from fourteen. Our spirits rose for a while. Someone brought the idea that the sound might simply be another cave-in. I have no opinion.
-o-o-o-o-o-
We’ve all agreed not to discuss our hunger.
What possible good could come of such a discussion is not apparent to me. I’m pleased that my compatriots are of a like mind.
We found John Harlow, but it was too late. His torso was protruding out of the darkness, but the lanterns would not illuminate his lower half. Bert suggested that the shadows were attempting to swallow him whole. We pulled on his hands and begged him to struggle. John’s eyes fell shut and he didn’t respond to us as he was consumed. I let go of his fingers before the shadow could swallow me as well. I suppose our mysterious disappearances have been explained. The darkness has ingested the missing men.
No explanation has been forthcoming.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Robert Clyde discovered a crack in the wall. While it’s true that no man knows every inch of this section, we all know enough about mining to recognize that this crack is unnatural. It was not made by human hand or one of our clever tools. This is a crack of the mountain itself, and I’ll swear that it was not present before the cave-in trapped us here.
Bert believes that the darkness that swallowed John Harlow came from, and retreated into, this crack. He may be right.
Robert Clyde thought this crack might be a way out.
Perhaps he is correct.
So far, he has no other volunteers willing to explore the crack alongside him.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Bert has killed Charles Ulrich.
Unless Robert Clyde returns from the crack, we have only six men remaining of our crew. Our cave-in trapped twenty-four men. With two murders and one elopement, the other fifteen disappearances remain unexplained. The theories grow more wild with each passing hour.
Ulrich wanted another sacrifice, but not to appease the ghosts of the mine. I’m reticent to speak ill of the dead, but Charles Ulrich wanted to murder Kyle Henry and consume his flesh. Kyle has not moved in some number of hours. His eyes are closed and he will not respond to our ministrations. When Charles made move to end Kyle’s life, Bert took steps to restrain Charles. Their scuffle turned into a fight. I don’t blame Bert for what he has done. I would have done it myself if I had summoned the energy. Some of the men dragged Charles to the deep part of the mine and offered him to the darkness. I’ve heard no report on the status of his remains.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Robert Clyde’s crack has disappeared. He attempted to explore the crack for a way out and we never saw him again. Now, that crack has disappeared. Bert found another crack near the raise. The discovery divided our group. Three of us believe that the correct course of action is to stand pat. The other men, led by Bert, want to explore the crack. They now believe that Robert Clyde is happily above ground, though there’s no evidence to support such a claim.
I suppose that there is no evidence to the contrary. Still, the crack leads down into an unknown abyss and we have no lanterns to spare. There is precious little fuel left and we may soon have only one lantern for all of us. If Bert’s group leaves, we men who stay will be left in the dark.
-o-o-o-o-o-
A foul breath of sulfur came up from Bert’s crack just as the men set to investigate. I thought for sure that the toxic odor would dissuade them, but the opposite was true. Convinced that the smell was organic, they decided that the smell proved that the crack would lead them to life.
They wrestled the last of the fuel from us.
We’re going to extinguish the lantern now and only relight it if we hear the approach of a rescue. Darkness awaits.
-o-o-o-o-o-
When I heard the scrape of boots, I called to my men to light the lantern. Nobody responded. I struck the match myself and wished I had left their terrible deeds to the dark. I won’t give their names here. They deserve no memorial.
The light swelled and exposed the grunting fools as they desecrated the remains of Charles Ulrich. I’ve never seen the like. As soon as the light had revealed the men, darkness flooded back in to consume them. I was not ashamed to cheer for their demise.
I’m alone in this wretched cave.
F
LORIDA
PUT
UP
HER
hand to tell Roger to stop.
He slid his bare foot forward and rested. After a second, he understood—she had heard a voice.
“Spit it out!” the voice yelled. It echoed through their tunnels. After a few seconds, he heard the voice again. It was barely audible. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.”
They waited to see what else it might say.
There was no other sound.
“Hello!” Florida called. Roger listened to the reverberations fade away and strained to hear a response. “Hello?” she yelled again.
Roger limped forward.
“I’ve heard voices before. They never answer,” he said.
Florida narrowed her eyes. “There has to be some explanation.”
“Yeah, there is—this whole cave is fucked.”
Florida thought about it for a second and then nodded. She marched on. She didn’t take any care to wait for Roger. Her position was clear—she was going to get out as quickly as she could. If he kept up, he was welcome to tag along. Otherwise, he was on his own. Roger was starting to grow accustomed to the pain. His hip and knee were a little sore, and the cut on his ankle stung. He had lived through worse.
Florida slowed down.
Roger maneuvered to the side and saw why. Their tunnel was ending. The wall curved down and there was a dark hole in the floor.
“Careful,” Florida said. “The rock could be thin here.”
She edged towards the hole. From what he could see, the space below was enormous. His light picked up one of the walls below as it curved away. Florida had a better angle. She moved to the side and projected her headlamp down through. Florida dropped to her knees and moved down closer. Her hands were right at the edge.
Roger was just about to say something when she waved him forward.
“Look!” she said.
Roger crawled forward, trying to spread out his weight. He finally found a good angle to see where she was pointing her light.
The cave beneath them was shaped like an enormous, flattened bubble and they were peering through the roof. Their light barely reached the far side, where a couple of shapes looked black against the reddish rock.
One of the shapes was projecting its own light. It was a person—so far away that they looked tiny—and they were walking around the perimeter of the giant room.
“Hey!” Florida yelled. “Hey!”
Roger joined his voice to hers. His message was more direct. “Help us! Please help us!”
There was no thought of trying to get down there. Below the hole it was at least a thirty foot drop to the floor, if not more. It was impossible to judge the distance. Also, the floor was covered with something white. It could have just been a mineral deposit, but it was impossible to tell from their height.
The figure on the opposite side of the cave didn’t respond to their yells. He kept walking.
Florida turned to Roger. “Why doesn’t he hear us?”
Roger shook his head. “We can see his light. He should at least see ours.”
When Roger looked back to the figure, he couldn’t see him anymore. He shifted his light around, trying to pick up the moving shape again.
“I lost him,” Roger said. He looked to Florida.
“I can’t believe it,” she said. “Where did he go?”
They moved their lights around the cave for several minutes, but they saw nothing. Roger yelled a few more times, and they listened for a response. Even the other shape—the dark, unmoving one—had disappeared.
“Where could he have gone?” Florida asked.
“Let’s turn out our lights. Then we’ll see his light.”
They tried it and the cave below them was lost in darkness. Their little tunnel was still illuminated by the ghostly glow from the crystals in the ceiling, but none of that light reached the depths of the cave.
“Unreal,” Florida said.
They turned on their lights again and resumed scanning.
“Can we string together enough rope to get down there?” Roger asked.
Florida shook her head. “No. Besides, what would we anchor to?”
“Yeah,” Roger said. “Well, there are other holes. See the wall over there? Maybe one of these other caves leads to a better way.”
Florida pushed up away from the hole. “I’m not so sure we should focus on getting down there.”
“But that guy—there was someone there. He might know the way out.”
“Or he could be as lost as we are. And I don’t like that he couldn’t hear us, and I really don’t like that we didn’t see where he went. Maybe he tripped and fell into a pit or something.” She shook her head. “If we had seen more than one person, or a search party, then I would be all for it. But one solo guy? That’s not necessarily a positive thing.”
“You’re crazy,” Roger said. “If we have a chance to find another person, we should jump at it.”
“We can debate this again when the opportunity arises,” she said. She brushed off her hands and stood.
When Roger pushed himself up, part of the rock crumbled and fell down into the hole. He watched the pebbles tumble away and hit the white floor below. A cloud of powder erupted from the impact. Roger inched backwards and then stood to catch up with Florida before she left him.
R
YAN
SHIFTED
INTO
FIRST
gear and turned off the key.
“What are you doing?” Kristin shouted.
Ryan hit a switch and the interior light came on. Kristin squinted.
“Where’s the blood?” Ryan asked.
“What?”
“You said that someone killed Joy in the dark. You said there was blood everywhere and that she died in your arms. How come you don’t have any blood on you?”
Kristin looked down. She flipped her hands over and looked at both sides. She felt her shirt.
“I don’t know, I guess I didn’t get any on me. We have to get help. Please!”
“She died in your arms and there was blood everywhere,” Ryan said. He opened the door and got out. “I think there would be a little blood on you.” He began to walk in front of the Jeep. The headlights were still on. Ryan cut a shadow in the light that was pointed towards the mine.
Kristin rolled down the window.
“Listen—if you don’t believe me then you stay here and I’ll go get help.” She got out and walked up to him. “Give me the keys.”
“No way,” Ryan said. He stuffed the Jeep’s spare key down in his pocket. “Those are my little insurance policy. Why don’t you tell me what kind of work you guys are planning to play on me?”
“Work? What are you talking about?”
Ryan circled the Jeep the opposite direction. He opened the rear door and pulled out Kristin’s helmet. He brought it back to the headlights so he could figure out how to light the flame.
“What are you doing?” Kristin asked.
“I’m going to ruin the practical joke by sneaking in on them,” he said. “Can’t fool me if I’m fooling them.”