A Message for Julia (9 page)

Lined up there against the wall, they all stared straight ahead. Zach left his light on and its beam bounced back off the wall, painting them in a distorted glow.

The silence was heavy. Thick with threat.

And then they heard it. A sound that hadn't been there before. A whining, grinding, brutal sound.

Something, someone, was finally coming for them. Hope flickered for an instant. Then Gabe lapsed into a coughing jag.

Would they get here soon enough?

Friday Afternoon, 5:00 p.m.

J
ULIA HAD REACHED A POINT
with the crochet where she could keep going without constantly watching her hands. Granted, it was just a single row that seemed to stretch out for miles, but she felt better, calmer, as if she were
doing
something.

She glanced around the room, seeing that one of the families who had left earlier had returned, looking freshly showered but no less haggard. Beyond them, her father sat on a folding chair, his elbows resting on his knees. Jack Sinclair faced him and they were deep in discussion.

She panicked for a moment, not trusting her father's responses. She couldn't recall when she'd ever seen her father sit and talk with one of the workers without an argument erupting. But while Jack was talking with great animation, her father seemed to be listening. Still concerned, she stood. “Excuse me.” She set her crochet down and headed toward the men, just in case.

“Raising kids sure is tough,” Jack was saying.

Her father nodded and Julia held back, about to turn away. She was relieved that they weren't arguing about the cave-in or the industry or such.

“Don't I know it. I wonder what's easier, girls or boys? I only had the one daughter,” her father admitted.

“Probably neither,” Jack said. Both men laughed. “I never wanted my boys underground.”

Julia was shocked. Jack had been so adamant when she was trying to keep Ryan in school. His comment surprised her. Then he clarified. “Both boys came to me and wanted to do it. I might not like it, but I'll support anything they want to do.”

“Even after this?”

There was a long pause. “Yeah,” Jack admitted softly. “If they really want to, I'll support them. I'll just drink a little more Maalox.” Both men laughed again, but with much less humor.

Julia backed up, hurrying away from the touching realization of how much Jack loved his sons. Enough to let them do something he didn't want for them.

She didn't stick around to hear her father's response. She didn't want to know what dreams he'd had for her and how much she'd disappointed him.

Friday Afternoon, Twenty-Seven Hours Underground

T
HE DISTANT GRINDING SOUND
was so faint that, if Linc had been talking or sleeping, it would have been lost. But it was constant.

“What's that?” Ryan whispered.

Gabe was stronger now and shifted around as if trying to get closer to the stone wall. “It ain't coming from the tunnel. It's overhead.”

Linc tried to read Gabe's expression but the man's eyes were shadowed. He wasn't smiling.

“What does it mean?” Ryan really was at a disadvantage. He was way too young and inexperienced to be trapped like this.

“It means the next chamber is full of either water or shale. They can't get to us that way,” Gabe said.

“We're going to die here?” Ryan's voice cracked.

“No.” Gabe put all of his determination into that one word. “It means they're coming for us from the top.”

Two hundred feet straight down through solid rock. Linc shook his head. It wouldn't work. If it did, would they beat the elements, rising water or gases, which everyone knew were risk factors in a mine?

The battices the crew had put up helped hold in some of their body heat but the mine was only fifty-eight degrees. Even the smallest and worst-equipped mines had canvas battices stored throughout the tunnels. If the gases rose, the canvas would block it somewhat. The cool rock against his back, and the lack of activity, made Linc shiver. The men sat together, subconsciously seeking each other's warmth.

“It's cold.” Ryan's teeth chattered. Even in the faint light, Linc saw Mike scoot closer to his brother. He did the same. Of them all, Ryan was the smallest and probably had a greater challenge staying warm.

“Get up and move around to get the blood flowing,” Robert suggested. “Just don't overdo it.”

Linc had to admit that was a good idea. Ryan must have thought so, too, as he struggled to stand. “I'll go beat the pipe again. Maybe this time they'll hear us.”

“Maybe they will.” Mike's voice held an edge Linc couldn't quite identify. Hope strangled by fear? He shook his head. He needed to get some sleep. His mind was fading.

“Go to the pipe.” Gabe's voice was soft but as authoritative as ever. “But don't go messing with shit along the way.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ryan's smile was almost audible as he swept the canvas aside and slipped through the opening. Linc sensed Mike tensing as they watched the boy leave.

“He'll be okay,” Linc reassured Mike.

“You don't know my little brother very well, do you?” Mike said with a smile of his own.

“I have some idea. My wife mentioned him and I've heard your dad talk.”

“Yeah, I know about that. If it means anything, she gave it a good shot.”

“What do you mean?”

“None of us wanted him down here. Dad always gets bent out of shape when someone tries to tell him what to do, so he overreacted when she talked to Ryan. I wish he'd listened to her.”

“She'll be glad to hear that. I'll be sure and tell her.”

“Yeah. That'd be nice.”

The silence settled back in place. Linc hoped he'd get the chance to tell Julia just that. Then they'd all be out of here.

Linc shifted and something hard dug into his hip. He reached into his pocket and couldn't help but laugh. Fat
lot of good his truck keys would do him down here. All he could use them for now was jingling in his pocket to keep him awake.

“Why didn't you leave those up top?” Mike asked.

“Habit,” he admitted. He didn't want to think about what they opened. Things, places, “stuff” he might never see again. When archaeologists dug up his body in a few million years, would they even know what keys were?

He thought about tossing them into the darkness. Instead, he shoved them back into his pocket, hoping he'd need them soon. Real soon.

“Hey.” Ryan's alarmed voice came from the other side of the battice. His hat lamp cast a bouncing shadow on the canvas just before he pulled it aside.

“What's up?” Robert stood and walked over to the opening. “What did you find?”

“Nothing good.” The kid turned around and pointed in the direction of his light beam. “There's water rising up near the first break.”

“Damn it,” Gabe swore. “Fast or slow?”

“Slow—maybe a couple of inches so far.”

Cautious relief whispered through them all. What damage a cave-in didn't accomplish, water would.

“They'd better be digging for us fast.” Ryan's voice broke as he settled back down. The boy had been strong up until now, something Linc wasn't so sure he'd have been able to do at that age.

“We've got plenty of time,” Linc reassured him, knowing he was just as much reassuring himself. And maybe a few of the others.

“Keep an eye on it,” Gabe said weakly.

“Let's set a mark.” Robert disappeared into the darkness. Linc knew he'd find a stick or pole and put it in the water. They'd mark the level. Now every time someone went to bang on the pipe, they'd check the water level, as well.

Robert returned and settled back down. “It's not much, yet.”

Casey moaned in his sleep.

“We need to get him out of here.” Robert's frustration was clear. “We
all
need to get out of here,” Mike stated. No one spoke again for a long time. The silence itself was heavy and thick, just like the walls that trapped them.

Linc shifted position and the keys jangled in his pockets. Yep. He was still alive. Still awake.

But for how long?

“I'm hungry.” Ryan's statement interrupted his morbid thoughts. “Can we have that lunch now?”

Linc had forgotten about the battered lunch box Ryan had found earlier.

“Might as well,” Gabe said.

“Cool.”

Linc heard him working to pry open the beat-up metal box. The lid groaned loudly.

“Who wants an apple?” Ryan held up the Granny Smith in the faint light. “And a…cheese sandwich?” He lifted the foil-wrapped sandwich. “Who drinks two Mountain Dews?”

“Just split it up, kid.” Robert's tone was gruff. “We can do without the editorial.”

Linc saw Ryan throw Robert an offended look, but wisely the kid kept his words to himself.

“Good job, kid.” Gabe patted Ryan's shoulder as the boy hunkered down to give him a part of the sandwich.

“I'd even eat a school lunch right now.” Ryan bit hungrily into his portion of the sandwich.

“That's sayin' a lot,” Mike volunteered. “Little brother there never ate school lunches. Not unless Mom forced him.”

“Shows how much you know. I'd go hungry those days.” It actually sounded as if he was proud of that accomplishment.

Linc felt the mood of the dark chamber lift with the brotherly banter. He thought about Jace. A pang of loss shot through him. Nothing had been the same since Jim Holmes's death.

Linc couldn't remember the last time he'd thought about the family he'd grown up with, the one that had vanished all too early. He didn't let himself dwell on it often, but holidays and special events made it inevitable.

Linc had worked his butt off in high school to get the scholarship he'd needed to get the hell out of the small coal-mining town. He'd left, shaking the black dust off his shoes as soon as he hit the city limits.

He hadn't given a thought to his younger brother. To this day, he hadn't escaped the sense that he'd failed Jace.

Two weeks into Linc's senior year of college, Jace
had run away from home. Mom hadn't even told Linc until another two weeks had passed.

No one had seen Jace since. Linc didn't even know if his brother was alive or not. The guilt that came from not knowing settled like a stone in his gut.

Would he ever find out what had happened to Jace? Or was his brother waiting on the other side with his parents? Would Linc be seeing them all too soon?

Friday Evening, 6:30 p.m.

W
AITING…WAITING…WAITING
. Julia had never been patient. This interminable waiting was going to drive her insane.

Someone had brought in a stack of worn paperbacks that sat neglected on one of the tables. Julia couldn't even think straight, much less concentrate on a story.

The rain had finally stopped and faint rays of evening sunshine filtered through the trees. She couldn't resist the call of the light. The darkness of the waiting was becoming too heavy. She needed to escape.

Outside, the fading sunshine felt good. Julia turned her face toward it as she stepped outside. The sweet scent of the damp woods filled her with a hope she hadn't let herself feel in an eternity.

Julia had had enough of the crowds and the worry and the not knowing. Being outside made her feel closer to the rescue efforts, closer to something happening. Closer to Linc. She didn't dwell on that last thought long.

She'd taken only a few steps when her mother's voice stopped her. “Where are you going?”

“I…I need some air.” She needed more than that but couldn't begin to explain the ache of emptiness she felt even with all these people around.

“I'll go with you.”

“No.”

“I'm going with you,” Eleanor said more forcefully.

“Not now, Mom.”

“Yes, now, Julia.” The mother tone came again, the one Julia hadn't heard in years. The one Julia had dreaded as a child, the one that said she'd done something unacceptable. Julia turned and kept walking, hearing her mother's footsteps behind her. They were a good ten feet outside before she spun and faced her mother. “What is it?”

“I saw the look on your face earlier. You were remembering, too.”

Eleanor stared at her, and for the first time in her memory, Julia saw uncertainty in her mother's eyes. “I realize there's a lot going on.” Eleanor paused. “But that look isn't something I can let pass.”

“There wasn't a look.” She'd managed to hide her feelings for the past ten years. She wasn't dredging up that hurt all over again.

“I'm sorry I hurt you.”

Julia was taken aback. Her mother
never
apologized. Never.

Julia felt something inside her tremble. “I don't understand.” She didn't know what her mother expected. “You've never liked Linc.” The years of anger came bubbling to the surface. “You never wanted me to marry
him. I can't forget the things you've said and done over the years.”

Eleanor sighed and paced away from Julia. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to face her daughter. “I know we weren't supportive in the beginning. For God's sake, Julia, you came bursting into our room in the middle of the night to tell us you were marrying a man we hardly knew. You didn't even give us a chance to get to know him.”

“It was too uncomfortable.”

“And not for us?”

“I…I never thought of it that way.”

“I know that, dear, but we didn't do anything to stop you, did we?”

“Uh, no.” The trembling increased. She stared at her mother, as if seeing her for the first time as an adult.

Julia shivered. The night closed in, cool and damp, and she let herself feel each aspect of it. That was better than facing the doubt that had suddenly taken hold of her soul.

“There's been so little time for us to get to know Linc. But you know what? He makes you happy, honey, and that's all we care about.” Eleanor continued to pace. “We're no different from any other parents. We want what's best for you.”

“You don't always know what I want.”

“That's true, dear. But you aren't any better at telling us, now are you?” Eleanor was actually letting her feelings show and the hurt she exposed was strong and, Julia realized, long held.