Gideon's Sword (72 page)

“Leaky faucet?” Viv whispers.

“No question, it’s running water…” The sound’s too faint to trace. “I think it’s coming from up there,” I add as she points her light in the distance.

“You sure?” she asks, checking behind us.

“It’s definitely up there,” I say, rushing forward and trying to follow the sound.

“Harris, wait…!”

I start to run. A series of ear-splitting chirps rips through the air. The sound is deafening, like a nuclear assault warning. I freeze and look around. If we tripped an alarm…

Deeper down the tunnel, a bright headlight ignites, and an engine rumbles to life. It was down here all along, hidden in the dark. Before we can even react, it barrels toward us like an oncoming freight train.

Viv tries to take off. I tug her back by the wrist. The thing’s moving so fast, we’ll never outrun it. Better that we not look guilty.

The metal brakes grind to a halt a few feet in front of us. I follow Viv’s light as it shines across the side of the banged-up yellow car and the man who’s sitting inside it. The car looks like a miniature train engine without the roof. There’s a large spotlight attached to the hood. Behind the wheel is a bearded middle-aged man in a ratty old pair of overalls. He shuts the engine, and the chirping finally stops.

“Sorry about the heat—we’ll have it fixed up in the next few hours,” he offers.

“Fixed?”

“You think we like it like this?” he asks, using his mine light to circle the walls and ceiling. “We’re a belch shy of a hundred and thirty degrees…” He laughs to himself. “Even for eight thousand, that’s hot.” I quickly recognize the flat South Dakota accent of the man who came down in the cage before us. Garth, I think. Definitely Garth. But what catches my attention isn’t his name—it’s the tone in his voice. He’s not attacking. He’s
apologizing. “Don’t worry,” he adds. “We got this at the top of the list.”

“Th-That’s great,” I reply.

“And now that the air conditioner and exhaust’s in place, we’ll have you seeing your breath in no time. You won’t be sweating like that anymore,” he adds, motioning to our soaked shirts.

“Thanks,” I laugh back, anxious to change the subject.

“No,
thank you
—if it weren’t for you guys, this place woulda still been boarded up. Once the gold was plucked, we didn’t think we had a shot.”

“Yeah, well… happy to help, Garth.” I throw in his name to get his attention—and to keep him from staring at Viv. As always, it does the trick. “So how’s it look otherwise?” I ask as he turns back to me.

“Right on time. You’ll see when you get down there. Everything’s in place,” he explains. “I should really get back, though… We got another shipment coming in. I just wanted to make sure we had the space ready.”

With a wave, he gets back in the man-car and starts the engine. The shrill scream of the chirping pierces the entire tunnel. Just a warning system as he drives through the dark—like the beeping sound when a big truck goes in reverse. As he races past us, the chirping fades just as fast.

“Whattya think?” Viv asks as I watch him disappear in the darkness.

“No idea. But from the sound of it, there’s no gold left down here.”

Nodding, Viv heads deeper into the mine. I stay with the man-car, making sure it’s gone.

“By the way, how’d you remember his name?” she adds.

“I don’t know—I’m just good with names.”

“See, nobody likes people like that.”

Behind me, I hear her feet crunching against the rocks. I’m still focused on the man-car. It’s almost gone.

“Hey, Harris…” she calls out.

“Hold on, I want to make sure he’s—”

“Harris, I think you should take a look at this…”

“C’mon, Viv—just gimme a second.”

Her voice is dry and flat. “Harris, I think you should take a look at this
now…
”

I turn around, rolling my eyes. If she’s still worried about the—

Oh, jeez.

Up ahead… at the very end of the tunnel… I have to squint to make sure I’m seeing it right. The man-car was blocking it before, but now that it’s gone, we’ve got a clear view. Down at the lowest part of the tunnel, two brand-new shiny steel doors gleam in the distance. There’s a circular glass window cut into each one, and while we’re too far to see through them, there’s no mistaking the bright white glow that seeps out through the glass. Two pinholes in the darkness—like the fiery white eyes of the Cheshire cat.

“C’mon…” Viv calls out, dashing toward the doors.

“Wait!” I call out. It’s already too late. Her mine light bounces as she runs, and I chase behind the lightning bug as she weaves deeper into the cave.

The truth is, I don’t want to stop her. This is what we came for. The actual light at the end of the tunnel.

47

S
LAMMING BOTH HANDS
against the polished steel double doors, Viv pushes as hard as she can. They don’t budge. Behind her, I stand on my tiptoes to get a look through the windows, but the glass is opaque. We can’t see inside. The sign on the doors says,
Warning: Authorized Personnel Only.

“Let me try,” I say as she steps aside. Shoving my shoulder against the center of the doors, I feel the right one give slightly, but it doesn’t go anywhere. As I step back for another pass, I see my warped reflection in the rivets. These things are brand-new.

“Hold on a second,” Viv calls out. “What about ringing the doorbell?”

On my right, built into the rock, is a metal plate with a thick black button. I was so focused on the door, I didn’t even see it. Viv reaches out to push it.

“Don’t—” I call out.

Again I’m too late. She rams her palm into the button.

There’s a tremendous hiss, and we both jump back. The double doors shudder, the hiss slowly exhales like a yawn, and two pneumatic air cylinders unfold their arms.
The left door opens toward me; the right door goes the other way.

I crane my head to get a better look. “Viv…”

“I’m on it,” she says, pointing her light inside. But the only thing that’s there—about ten feet ahead—is another set of double doors. And another black button. Like the doors behind us, there’s a matching set of opaque windows. Whatever’s giving off that light is still inside.

I nod to Viv, who once again presses the black button. This time, though, nothing happens.

“Press it again,” I say.

“I am… It’s stuck.”

Behind us, there’s another loud hiss as the original steel doors begin to close. We’ll be locked in. Viv spins around, about to run. I stay where I am.

“It’s okay,” I say.

“What’re you talking about?” she asks, panicking. The doors are about to squeeze shut. This is our last chance to get out.

I scan the cave walls and the exposed rocky ceiling. No video cameras or any other security devices. A tiny sign on the top left-hand corner of the door says,
Vapor-Tight Door.
There we go.

“What?”
Viv asks.

“It’s an air-lock.”

There’s less than an inch to go.

“A what?”

With a heavy thunk, the outer doors slam shut and the cylinders lock into place. A final, extended hiss whistles through the air, like an old-fashioned train settling into the station.

We’re now stuck between the two sets of doors.
Twisting back to the black button, Viv pounds it as hard as she can.

There’s an even louder mechanical hiss as the doors in front of us rumble. Viv looks back at me. I expect her to be relieved. But the way her eyes jump around… She’s hiding it well, but she’s definitely scared. I don’t blame her.

As the doors churn open, a burst of bright light and a matching gust of cold wind come whipping through the hairline crack. It blows my hair back, and we both shut our eyes. The wind dies fast as the two zones equalize. I can already taste the difference in the air. Sweeter… almost sharp on my tongue. Instead of sucking in millions of dust particles, I feel a blast of icy air cooling my lungs. It’s like drinking from a dirty puddle, then having a glass of purified water. As I finally open my eyes, it takes me a few seconds to adjust. The light is too bright. I lower my eyes and blink back to normalcy.

The floor is bright white linoleum. Instead of a narrow tunnel, we’re in a wide-open, stark white room that’s bigger than an ice-skating rink. The ceiling rises to at least twenty feet, and the right-hand wall is covered with brand-new circuit breakers—top-notch electricals. Along the floor, hundreds of red, black, and green wires are bundled together in electronic braids that’re as thick as my neck. On my left, there’s an open alcove labeled
Changing Station,
complete with cubbies for dirty boots and mine helmets. Right now, though, the alcove’s filled with lab tables, a half-dozen bubble-wrapped computer hubs and routers, and two state-of-the-art slick, black computer servers. Whatever Wendell Mining is doing down here, they’re still setting up.

I turn to Viv. Her eyes are locked on the stacks of cardboard boxes piled all around the immaculate white room.
On the side of each box, there’s one word written in black Magic Marker:
Lab.

She looks down at the oxygen detector. “21.1 percent.”

Even better than what we had up top.

“What the hell’s going on?” she asks.

I shake my head, unable to answer. It doesn’t make any sense. I look around at the polished chrome and the marble tabletops and replay the question over and over in my head: What’s a multimillion-dollar laboratory doing eight thousand feet below the surface of the earth?

48

D
OWN IN THE BASEMENT
of the red brick building, Janos stopped at the charging station for the battery packs and mine lights. He’d been there once before—right after Sauls hired him. In the six months since, nothing had changed. Same depressing hallway, same low ceiling, same dirt-caked equipment.

Taking a closer look, he counted two openings in the charging station—one on each side. Thinking they were playing the odds, they gambled, he realized. That’s how it always is, especially when people are panicking. Everybody gambles.

As he moved further up the hallway, Janos stepped past the wooden benches and entered the large room with the elevator shaft. Avoiding the shaft, he headed for the wall with the phone and fire alarm. No one goes down without first making a call.

“Hoist…” the operator answered.

“Hey, there—was hoping you could help me out,” Janos said as he pressed the receiver to his ear. “I’m looking for some friends… two of them… and was just
wondering if you sent them down in the cage, or if they’re still up top?”

“From Ramp Level, I sent one guy down, but I’m pretty sure he was alone.”

“You positive? He should’ve definitely been with someone…”

“Honey, all I do is move ’em up and down. Maybe his friend went in up top.”

Janos looked up through the elevator shaft at the level that was directly above. That’s where most people came in… but Harris and Viv… they’d be looking to keep it quiet. That’s why they would’ve followed the tunnel down here…

“You sure he didn’t just go down by himself?” the operator asked.

But just as Janos was about to answer, he stopped. His first wife called it
intuition.
His second wife called it
lion’s instinct.
Neither was right. It’d always been more cerebral that that. Don’t just
follow
your prey.
Think
like them. Harris and Viv were trapped. They’d be searching for a safety net… and they’d look everywhere to find it…

Gripping the edge of the short wall, Janos slid around to the opposite side, where a square piece of wood held fifty-two nails. He focused on the two metal tags labeled
15
and
27.
Two tags. They were still together.

Swiping both tags from the board, he looked down at them in his hand. Everybody gambles, he said to himself—but what’s most important to remember is that at some point, everybody also loses.

49