by Angel Smits
Claustrophobia threatened and he bit it back. Panicking was not an option. Deep, slow breaths. He focused on listening to and slowing his own heart rate. He’d learned the techniques not long after his father’s death, when the nightmares of being trapped first appeared. He’d conquered it then, he’d do it now.
“Gabe?” he called out into the void.
“Yeah?” The older man’s voice was soft and seemed distant.
“What’s the one thing you’re going to do when we get out of here?”
Gabe chuckled. “Buy a burger, a big fat juicy one—to hell with my cholesterol.”
Linc laughed.
“And you?”
Linc struggled to answer. “I don’t know,” he lied. He knew what he wanted to do, but making love to Julia was out of the question now. How long had it been? He had no clue and that didn’t sit well with him. Where had the urgency gone that had filled those first years? He could clearly recall those days when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Now he might never get the chance to touch her again. And not just because he was trapped here. She was probably completely moved out of the house by now.
Seven years of marriage gone. What was even left for him to go home to?
He closed his eyes against the oppressive dark. Maybe if he kept remembering everything, he’d somehow be stronger, more resistant to being erased by time or events. Maybe he’d live a little longer.
He glanced at his watch, the face glowing in the darkness with a press of a button. They’d been down here seven hours. He swallowed hard, fighting the panic that threatened to overwhelm him.
“Hey, Mike.” Ryan called to his brother from where he sat next to Linc, breaking the cycle of Linc’s thoughts.
“Yeah?” Mike didn’t sound good.
“You think Dad’s waiting up top for us?”
“Probably.” Mike paused, then turned to look at his younger brother. “He knows, kid. He knows.” Mike tried to reassure Ryan, but even to Linc’s ears, he sounded scared.
Thursday Evening, 11:00 p.m.
JULIA HAD NEVER SEEN a night sky like this before. Floodlights brighter than sunshine shone over the valley. Where the clouds had blocked the sun most of the day, those same clouds now reflected the light. The damp drizzle continued, reminding her just how at the mercy of the elements they all were.
True to their word, the mine owners had brought in crews of men and truckloads of equipment.
Also true to his word, Patrick came to the tent every half hour to keep the families informed. So far there had been precious little beyond the explanations of which teams were planning to do what.
Between meetings, the large tent had filled with more people. Julia could hardly stand the crowd.
She had learned more about Trish Hayes, who seemed to be the only person who realized Julia was even there. She told herself she preferred it that way. She discovered that Zach Hayes had worked this mine for nearly three years, and another one for five years before that. He and Trish didn’t have any kids, either, which Trish considered a blessing at times like this.
Once again, Julia stood at her perch near the opening of the tent, mug in hand. The coffee had grown cold but she needed something solid to hold on to.
Just then, Hank’s squad car pulled through the gates and stopped a few feet from the tent’s entrance. He hurried around the car and pulled open the passenger door. He unfolded a metal walker and set it in front of the white-haired, elderly woman as she turned in the seat. Unfurling an umbrella with one hand, he helped her stand with the other. This must be Mamie Hastings. She wasn’t as old as Julia had expected—probably in her mid-seventies—but obviously had trouble getting around on her own.
“Thank you, Hank.” The woman smiled up at him. Julia recognized it as a courteous smile without any warmth. There was too much worry and pain in the old woman’s eyes. She slowly stood and made her way toward the tent opening.
Hank looked over at Julia and waved his hand for her to join him and help. The look on his face told her he didn’t know how to deal with this woman. Curiosity nudged her to his side. Julia walked along beside them, but Mamie did just fine.
“Shirley?” Hank called out as they stepped inside the tent. “Mamie’s here.”
Shirley rushed over and stepped in front of Julia, helping guide the old woman to one of the padded folding chairs.
Before she sat down, though, the woman gave Shirley a hug. “Thank you for sending for me. I hate my boy bein’ down there.”
“Well, we’re all here together now.” Shirley looked up at Julia. There wasn’t any warmth in Shirley’s gaze, either, but not just because she was worried.
Julia knew Shirley didn’t like her. She’d never kept that a secret. Julia wasn’t quite sure why, but she felt her enmity even now. Rather than introducing Julia to Mamie, Shirley helped the elderly woman get settled in a chair, and then went off to get her a drink.
“Hello.” Julia stepped forward to introduce herself. “I’m Julia Holmes.”
Again, Mamie flashed one of those too-polite smiles. “Yes, hello. The inspector’s wife.”
Once, just one time during all this, Julia wished someone would realize she was Julia, not “Mrs. Linc.” Sighing, she put it down to the woman’s age and the society in which she’d lived so much of her life. It didn’t do any good letting it bother her. “Yes. I am.”
“Nice to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Me, too.”
Shirley returned and without acknowledging Julia, planted herself between Mamie and her. She patted Mamie’s hand and filled her in on Patrick’s last report. Mamie listened, slowly sipping her drink as her eyes grew more distant and her skin paled.
Julia stood back, feeling deliberately excluded and very much the outsider. She needed space, some fresh air, and, walking backward, she headed toward it. She grabbed one of the rain slickers that hung by the front entry and slipped it on. She needed more space than she could get in the doorway.
Outside, the air was cool and felt good after the heat in the tent from so many close bodies. She walked down the hill a short way, looking at the familiar outline of the mine and the new addition, the drilling rig atop the next hill. The skeletal frame had the appearance of a looming monster poised to attack.
Men scurried around, and she watched their headlamps flash puddles of light across the uneven, damp ground. Just outside the mouth of the mine, another white tent had been erected. Inside two men huddled over a large table covered with papers and maps. Several miners nodded to her, but none stopped as they passed. She recognized their faces despite the grime that covered their features. Even the rain couldn’t remove it all. Instead, the moisture sent dark streaks down onto their clothes.
She shivered and, despite the raincoat, cold slipped down her collar. At least she felt something.
Quick movements caught her eye, and she looked over in time to see Patrick hurrying across the grounds. Was he headed to the tent? Oh, God. What was happening? Had the crew been found? Were they… She didn’t finish her thought.
As she turned, she saw the huddled mass of people beyond the property-line fence. The press. She knew they were here to cover a story. This was their job, no matter what the outcome.
Hank stood there, a silent sentry. His squad car sat behind him like an added reminder of the boundary. Still, Julia pulled up the hood of the borrowed, too-big raincoat to hide her face.
As she ran, she heard the crackle of the paper in her pocket. She hadn’t put any names on it. Heck, she hadn’t even thought to call anyone to let them know what was going on. It now occurred to her that her parents wouldn’t appreciate being notified by CNN.
Linc’s parents wouldn’t need notification. The senior Mrs. Holmes had been gone two years now. She’d never have survived this. Julia closed her eyes and said a prayer to her mother-in-law for strength. She didn’t even know how to contact his brother. She hadn’t seen him since grade school. For
him, CNN would have to do.
Moving on, she nearly slipped in the slick mud. Suddenly, a strobe light went off and Julia looked up. She instantly regretted it as half a dozen more flashes broke the darkness. The photographers had gotten a clear view of her face. She knew they probably wouldn’t be able to identify her yet, but it was apparent from her lack of mining gear that she wasn’t part of the rescue crews.
She wanted to curse and scream at them, but that was exactly what they wanted. They were here to get proof the families were falling apart, that they knew something the press didn’t. Every one of them wanted to be the first reporter to get “the scoop.”
Rather than give it to them, Julia pulled the coat closer and leisurely walked—as best she could through the muck and mud—to the tent. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she hoped her expression remained neutral.
The gentle rat-a-tat of the rain on the canvas wasn’t soothing. It grated on her nerves. Patrick wasn’t anywhere in the tent that she could see. Maybe she’d been wrong. Where was he? Had she missed a report? The tent seemed no more tense than it had before. She relaxed a little.
Julia shoved her way through the crowd, looking for Patrick. She emerged on the other side of the tent to find nothing.
He wasn’t anywhere to be found. Suddenly, even with all the bodies pressing close, all the voices floating around her, she felt very much alone. She didn’t want to be alone anymore.
She should have called her parents already; despite the distance between them, they were her family. They might not be as loving as she’d like, but she knew she could count on them.
A row of phones sat on one of the tables for the families to use. Most everyone’s cell batteries were dead and the heavy mountains made service spotty anyway.
Shirley Wise was using one phone, and Julia waited until she’d finished before walking toward the table. Her hand shook as she reached out to pick up the receiver.
She seldom spoke to her parents; their disapproval of Linc was so overwhelming. She hadn’t even told them that she and Linc were separated. She couldn’t think about that now. The whole world was falling apart. With trembling fingers, she punched in the familiar number.
“Hello.”
“Mom? It’s Julia.”
“Oh, dear. We were just talking about you.” Her mother’s voice was so calm, so normal, so oddly comforting. “We saw on the late news where there’s been some kind of mine disaster down there. Is it near you?”
She should have called sooner. Her stomach wound into knots as she forced her lips to form the words. “Linc’s one of the men trapped.” She was surprised at her mother’s silence. She hadn’t realized the woman had it in her.
“Is he…?”
“Is he what?” Julia couldn’t let her mind go any further.
“Um, still alive?”
Julia actually appreciated her mother’s hesitance. “We don’t know, Mom.”
For the first time since her marriage had failed, since this whole ordeal had begun, Julia’s strength wavered. Once again she was a little girl frightened by nightmares. She wanted to feel her mother’s arms and hear her reassurances—no matter how false—that everything would be fine. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. Everything seemed to crash in around her. The arguments of the past months. The pain of finally leaving Linc. The overwhelming fear that she might lose him permanently.
“Julia? Hon? Are you there?”
She wanted to say yes, but couldn’t speak before a sob shattered from her throat. She doubled over, struggling to catch her breath. Her mind filled with nothing but desperation.
Hold on. Be strong. Can’t let go.
“We’re on our way, sweetheart.” The line went dead.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Thursday Night, Nine Hours Underground
LINC CLOSED HIS EYES. He was exhausted. Beyond exhausted. He’d been awake far too long. Since Julia had moved out, he’d done little more than doze. And then today.
Even breathing taxed his strength. The air was stifling and hard to pull into his lungs. And cold. He shivered in response to his own thoughts as well as the temperature.
Gabe snored loudly a few feet away. The kid kept mumbling in his sleep. Robert was silent, which told Linc that the man was as awake as he was. Zach and Mike sat near Casey, talking softly, though Linc couldn’t tell if it was to each other or to the injured man.
Sleep was tempting, but fear had so far made it impossible.
“You want to sleep?” Mike’s voice cut across the dark shadows. “I’ll keep an eye on the meter.”
“Probably should get some rest,” Linc admitted despite the fact that every atom of his body was fighting to stay awake. “You okay?” Linc recalled Mike’s emotions from earlier.
“I’m fine,” Mike assured him.
“Give me a couple hours then I’ll spell you.”
Mike stood and came over to get the meter from Linc’s pack. “I’ll wake you.”
Since they’d settled here, Linc had spent little time doing anything but thinking, worrying and praying. Now he lay down, closed his eyes and willed sleep to come. But although he was exhausted, his brain wouldn’t shut off.
“I can handle it, you know.” Mike seemed to notice he wasn’t sleeping. “You can relax.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” Linc sat up and leaned back on the cold, hard wall. “My mind’s too busy.”
“I know. I can’t stop thinking about Rachel. This pregnancy’s been hard on her. She’s been sick a lot.”
“Been there, done that.” Linc fought the smile. Julia hadn’t been sick often with their baby but when she was…
“Yeah, there isn’t much I can do. I feel so helpless. Nearly makes me lose my lunch.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Linc felt memories tug at him. He couldn’t let the hurt of remembering Julia’s brief pregnancy come back to him. Not now. Lord, not now.
Why did the past keep reaching out from the depths of the dark to ensnare him? Was this what they meant by your life flashing in front of your eyes before you died?
Mike’s memories of Rachel were here and now, but the memories that grabbed Linc were from a long way back. From a time before the world fell apart.
The first time he’d taken care of Julia when she was sick had been back in college. She’d been drunk. They’d had a fight, about what he had no clue now, but her roommate had gotten the bright idea to help her drink her troubles away. Linc had been left to clean up the mess—literally.
Julia had called him, making no sense as she’d had a few drinks. Worried, he’d gone over to her dorm room, and even totally wasted, she’d turned him on. She’d tasted like sweet lemonade, denied passion and just plain hot woman. He’d liked it.
Just as he’d been about to kiss her again, she’d pulled away and her face had paled as her eyes grew wide.
He remembered picking her up, throwing her over his shoulder and praying she wouldn’t puke on him before he got her to the restroom down the hall.
He’d broken into a run and slammed through the ladies’ room door—no one had been inside, thank goodness. He hadn’t cared about what anyone else might have thought.
What had worried him was someone seeing Julia like this and having her be humiliated.
He’d lowered Julia to her feet in the nearest stall…just in time for the hard lemonades she’d drunk to return to this world.
Holding her hair back, he’d waited and soothed her. She’d finally sunk to the floor and tried to curl up on the cool tile. He’d joined her and held her, gently rocking the misery away. He remembered pulling off a length of toilet paper and wiping her mouth as she stared back at him through tear-filled eyes. She’d looked like hell, not the pretty, confident woman he knew.
He couldn’t help but smile thinking about her reaction when she’d realized where they were. He’d dried her tears before lifting her into his arms and heading back to her room. She’d snuggled close, and he’d tried to ignore his
body’s reaction to the soft woman plastered across his body.
He’d failed miserably.
Thursday Night, 11:30 p.m.
THE NOISE OF THE FAMILY members in the tent faded away. “You go ahead and cry it out.” Mamie’s aged, gnarled hand curled gently around Julia’s tightly clasped fingers. She didn’t remember the old woman sitting down. “It won’t fix anything, but it might soften some of those sharp edges cutting into your heart.”
She might have laughed if the sentiment hadn’t fit so well.
“Why, when my Reggie was trapped back in…”
Julia tried to focus on the old woman’s words, suddenly aware of how many people had been through times like this. Maybe she should listen to someone else’s memories for a while instead of letting her own torment her. A nice idea not easily done.
Even as she listened, she realized how difficult life had been for Mamie, for so many coal-mining families. A small window opened into Linc’s past, a past he’d hidden from her.
She couldn’t help wondering why everything had to be so hard. She knew people had always thought life was too easy for her. Born into a rich family, she hadn’t had to worry about her father going to a dangerous job like Linc’s father had at the mines. No, her father hadn’t had that excuse.
But he’d left her just the same. A day full of business meetings and evenings of cocktail parties and charity events hadn’t allowed much time for a child. She’d had to fight for every bit of attention she’d gotten from her parents.
Many of her friends had turned to outrageous and even dangerous behaviors to get their parents to notice them. She’d known that wouldn’t work with her father. So she’d gone the other way. Doing everything perfectly. She’d been so good in school her classmates were often jealous. Boys, like Linc, took a perverse pleasure in trying to shake her out of that perfection. Eventually they’d all moved on. All except Linc.