Excerpt
Fifteen minutes into their first trip into the Old North slope they heard it again. This time, though, they could feel the engine rock heavily on the tracks.
Jim jammed on the brakes and brought the engine to a quick, grinding stop.
"God damn it, Jim, youre gonna derail her! We need this engine to get out," Manuel said.
After a moment when all four men strained to hear even the faintest whisper of a threat, Zephra spoke with forced hope. "Must be blastin' big down there, you think?
"Not unless theyre a bunch of goddam fools!" Manuel growled. They know better than that! He turned to look at Zephra, and was grateful that the darkness of the mine didn't betray the worry on his face. He knew full well they wouldnt be blastin now. To set a charge with men in the hole was insane! Too many good miners who did it never again saw the light of day. But with him quarantined on salvage duty, the men just might have taken the opportunity to do a little illegal blasting to boost the days pay. Just the thought of that angered him again and he shoved his fists into his pockets to keep from punching something or someone.
"That weren't no blast," Jim said. He hesitated a moment. "This hole's cavin'! I know it! Let's get the hell out of here!" he yelled.
In his guts he knew he should heed Jims warning, at least exercise some caution, but at that moment keeping control of his men proving to them that he was in charge -- overrode any concern Manuel felt about the trembler. If he couldn't make them see the light with regard to the union meeting, he'd at least make them understand that this was one arena where he could tell them what to do.
"Sit your ass down, Jim," Manuel demanded. "Likely those damn fools trying to boost their load. Theyll pay for it from me tomorrow you can be sure. We all heard worse than that. Nothing to shit your pants over." He turned to Ron. "You know whos doing this, Ron?"
"I heard talk is all. Could have been the engine," Ron offered. "Damn thing makes a racket in this old slope."
That werent no engine! Jim yelled. Im getting out of here!
Manuel jerked the drive lever to STOP and killed the power. "The hell you are! Were all gonna walk ahead and test the roof. Leave the engine here. We only got one more load and then we're done with this damn slope for good."
"Were fools if we stay here!" Jim insisted. Dead fools! He slid back down into the drivers seat and grabbed for the lever. Manuel swatted his hand away and pushed him back into the seat, their faces just inches apart.
"Stay put! Do what I god damn tell you! Youre a damn fool if you think were gonna run out of here for no good reason only to have to come back in and finish the job later. Don make me tell you again. He crowded the man, keeping his lamp shining directly in Jims eyes. Whatever it was -- and it was probly a damn blast its over now. But just so you can be sure its safe, let's walk up ahead and take a look."
Jim reached down to release the brake. "I ain't goin' nowhere but out! This mine's cavin'!. We all know it's gonna happen, and it's happenin' now."
Manuel choked back a laugh. "Jim, I swear you oughta listen to yourself. The way you're talking, you ought to be the first one at the union meeting if you're so sure. We'll go without you," Manuel said, "but you stay right hear with the engine till we get back."
Before Jim could protest Manuel engaged the break again, handed the lantern to Zephra and started off. "Were taking the light; sure you don' wanna come?"
Jim didn't reply.
They followed the rails, not speaking but each one intently listening through the din of their footsteps for any sounds or signs that just didn't fit. But the only sounds were those of their own footsteps, the only rumblings came from within their own chests. And that was beginning to settle.
They came upon the remaining stacks of salvage material sooner than expected -- about a dozen timber braces and a stack of heavy rails -- looked at each other briefly and then wordlessly turned and started back. They were walking a little faster now, breathing easier despite the cloying stillness of the air.
Manuel let his thoughts drift ahead and he soon found himself mouthing silent rebukes at his inability to rally his men together. Was it pride, or stubbornness?
Suddenly his shadow shot out in front of him and the floor of the slope convulsed. The firm bed of coal and rock on which theyd been walking turned fluid, swallowing his boots in a bubbling, frothy black quicksand.
Manuel braced one hand on the wall as pieces of the roof broke away and crashed to floor around him. Each crashing rock sent even more dust and dirt into the frenetic air, pelting his face and choking his breath. As he struggled to stay up another chunk of roof glanced off his back and sent him crashing down. He could feel his shirt growing damp and warm with blood.
Instinctively he fought to his feet again and started running up the slope toward the locomotive. Through the swirling maelstrom of dust and rocks he spotted the dim yellow light of a lantern, and pushed toward it. Zephra was there, kneeling over a motionless mass of twisted flesh that oozed its glistening black fluid into a pool on the floor. Ron was dead. A huge kettle had crushed his skull into an ugly mass of ragged tissue.
Come on! Manuel yelled. Lets get out of here. Now!
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