The rest of the restoration crew went silent. They all exchanged meaningful looks, but no one piped up to disagree. Exasperation and annoyance crossed Matthew’s face. Max knew his brother-in-law couldn’t negate Max’s talking points, but Matthew didn’t exactly like them either.
Time to finish the argument, Max thought. “I’m betting by the lack of opposition from the peanut gallery that everyone knows I’m right. Who else is jumping up and down to get inside the well? Which really makes me think you’ve downplayed the whole situation. Either everyone agrees with my argument, or you all know just exactly how dangerous this is and no one wants to take the risk. They’d all let you go down there without a second thought, Matt. Let me do the heavy lifting this time, okay?”
Matthew’s face crumpled. He looked to Wyatt as if beseeching him for backup. “Max...just why?” he asked helplessly.
Wyatt shrugged. “Hey, he’s got a point.”
“I dislodged some of the rocks when I went inside the well earlier,” Matthew protested. “There’s water already filling the well up. This is my responsibility. I should take the risk.”
“Not sure that reasoning is gonna fly, champ,” Max said.
“Fine,” Matthew said. “But only because of your stupid shoulder size.”
Max slapped his own arms and tried to flex. “Knew these guns would come in handy one day.”
Matthew rolled his eyes and gestured to the rickety triangle of wood, rope, and nails. “Well, get strapped in, if you’re so eager. You’re going to be as secure as possible when you go down there. That’s what I’m going to tell Kathleen if something happens to you. I did my best to make sure you’d be safe.”
“Okay, Dad,” Max said as he walked over to the rigging. As he stared at the manmade structure, doubt began to creep in, but he couldn’t back down now. Not after he’d thrown his sass and shoulder size around to make a point. If he backtracked, he might get labeled as a coward. Then Jade would have another word to call him.
He turned around and held his arms up. Wyatt started to wrap the ropes around him.
Think of it like a double-dog-dare from your sister, Max thought. You can’t back down now. If you do, you’ll get a noogie.
You can prove you’re not a coward.
20
Ropes crisscrossed over Max’s shoulders, and carabiners lay against his sides where the rope could easily allow him to be pulled up or lowered down into the well. Members of the restoration crew lined up around the rigging to help stabilize the structure as Max readied himself to go into the well. Max paused at the edge and took a deep breath. He had kind of hoped that this whole endeavor could have waited a couple of hours so he could have an actual panic attack over his heroics, but here he was.
Wyatt handed him a flashlight and a toolbelt. Max secured it around his waist. Matthew studied him with narrowed eyes before clapping Max on the shoulder. “Good luck,” he said.
Max winked. “Thanks.”
Then he dangled his feet over the edge of the well. The ropes tightened. For a moment, Max felt a moment of terrifying weightlessness before the ropes creaked to hold his weight. With slow jerking motions, he was lowered into the darkness. Panic rose up inside him, but he stomped it down by flipping on the flashlight and holding it close like it might save him. Above him, the sky was a pale blue circle broken by the darkened shapes of Matthew and Wyatt watching him.
“You need to replace the broken stones in the wall,” Wyatt instructed. “You’ll carefully pry them out and replace them with the new stones we’re going to lower down to you in a bucket. You’ll pack more dirt around the new stones while we haul out the broken ones. Then, if things are still looking unstable, we’ll lower some boards down that you can put against the wall to add stability.”
“Cool,” Max shouted back, because he honestly didn’t know what else to say. He’d never done anything like this before. Honestly, he was going to be winging most of this. In front of him, he saw the rows upon rows of stones finally transform into a ragged line of earth and rocks. Some had jagged breaks in them, and he could see the earth around them crumbly and loose.
“Okay, here’s a good spot,” he shouted back up, and the rigging came to an unsteady stop. He was suspended in the air. The stones were cold to the touch. Using his tools, he pried out the first rock—a stone bigger than his fist that had been shattered in two. As he dug it out, a bucket was lowered next to him. He took out the old stone and quickly replaced it. Then, using the dirt, he packed the earth in until it was a solid layer.
This process continued as he slowly progressed along the wall. He dropped broken stones in the bucket, and replaced the open holes with new rocks. At certain points, he called for boards to help support the more unstable places.
After a while, time seemed to stand still. The well smelled of damp earth, and the chill from the rocks had seeped into Max’s hands. It left his fingers somewhat numb. He tried to warm them against his armpits in what spare moments he could. Every so often he would need more stones, more dirt, more wooden boards for stability, and they were always provided to him by the men aboveground. He looked down at the rest of the well and felt an overwhelming sensation of how much work there really was left to do. Maybe it was a good idea that Matthew had pushed to start the restoration now. There was so much to be done.
Suddenly, he heard the rope holding him creak, followed by a quick and sudden jerk. He dropped a half inch. The chisel he’d been using to chip out another broken stone skittered over the wall and was wrenched out of his hand. His heart leapt into his mouth as he watched the flashlight illuminate it for a brief moment before it disappeared into the well. A loud plonk followed, sounding as though the tool had fallen into deep water. He felt sick as his feet scrambled in the air without a place to find purchase.
“What was that, guys?” he yelled up at the well restoration crew and tried to stomp down on the shrill panic in his voice.
“Sorry!” he heard yelled down at him. There seemed to be scuffling from above and the rise of accusatory voices, but it was a smear of echoes to Max’s ears.
“I dropped the chisel,” he yelled back up at them and then directed his flashlight down into the darkness. He saw the shine of light reflect off stones, moss, and then the movement of water below. “You have to lower me down further so I can get it back.”
He heard silence from above. “Are you sure?” a voice called down to him. “Is that safe?”
That was definitely Matthew.
“Unless you want us to never use the chisel again,” he shouted back up and heard the murmur of agreement before the rigging jerked once more and he was quickly lowered further into the darkness and closer to the water. His feet knocked a boulder that was sticking out of the wall, and it shifted underneath the push. The rigging dropped him further down until he was dangling right above the water, dirt, and boulders. He shone his flashlight around and spotted the metallic gleam of his chisel. Sticking the flashlight into his mouth, he dangled his body just above the water line and used his hands to shift the debris around, hoping to nudge the chisel closer.
Pushing more boulders and dirt aside, he stuck his hand into the water and jolted at the ice-cold that encompassed his hand. It immediately made his fingers go numb. If only he could just reach the tool, he could have the guys above lift him up.
The rigging jerked again sharply, and the tools latched to his toolbelt dislodged, sending two more tumbling down into the water and dirt.
“You guys!” Max shouted up, irritated and trying to fight the wave of fear. “Guys, be careful!”
There was no more sound from above. Max strained forward and tried to reach his hand further into the water and dirt, searching for the metallic feel of the lost tools. He strained further, feeling the rope twang, when suddenly there was another sharp jerk and the sound of snapping rope. He was suddenly in free fall. A scream exploded out of him. Any tension in the rope was suddenly gone and he was catapulted straight into the freezing wat
er.
The cold well water soaked his pants and sleeves. The rigging above swung uselessly. More debris and rocks tumbled down, pelting him. He couldn’t help the second screech that leapt out of his mouth when his clothes stuck to his body, chilling him thoroughly. Looking up, he saw the rigging swinging limply. Broken. He’d been right. Shifty. He tried to find his footing, but the moss-covered rocks were slippery and he tripped, crashing to his knees and gasping at the impact.
More water tumbled down like a spigot left on. He realized that he must have dislodged enough of the debris on one side that it caused more water to start filling the well. With a shudder, he realized he must be below the water table. If more debris had been dislodged, it might bring more water cascading down into the well, filling it up faster than Max could be lifted out.
“Hey, you guys!” he yelled. “Hello? Hello?”
He didn’t hear anything. He turned his flashlight upwards and flashed the beam back and forth to try to get attention. He wished he knew how to signal SOS in Morse code.
“The rigging broke. Can anyone hear me? Hello?”
More water splashed down on him, seeming to increase in intensity. Terror filled him. He had never felt more alone. Could anyone hear him? What if no one came to his rescue? What if he was stuck down here? He could drown.
“Matthew?” he called up. “I could really use some help right about now!”
But his voice echoed around him. There was no reply.
21
When Max’s screams for help echoed up and out of the well, dread filled Matthew. He shared a panicked look with Wyatt before they both leapt back and started yanking on the rigging to bring Max up as fast as they could. No one had time to respond to Max’s cries. It was more important that they use their efforts to reel him back up instead of yelling back that he was okay.
But something was wrong with the rigging. It felt too light. The other men steadying the contraption kept the ropes taut when needed and loose when necessary. Matthew knew that Max was a light man, but he wasn’t this light.
When the rigging came back up, all that was attached to it was the shredded length of rope and metal carabiners that had buckled from stress. Max wasn’t attached to it anymore. Max was still down in the well.
Matthew swore and ran to the edge of the well. A flashlight beam moved back and forth from one side of the wall to the other. He shouted down into the darkness. “Max! Are you okay? The rigging broke!”
“Oh thank god,” Max said, his voice tinny-sounding. “I’m not hurt, but water is starting to pour down into the well. A bunch of rocks got dislodged—”
His voice became muffled. Matthew strained forward to hear the rest of what Max said. What he deduced was that while Max wasn’t hurt now, something was definitely wrong, which might end up with Max getting hurt soon.
Wyatt looked at him with deep concern. “We have to get him out of there,” he said. “There isn’t a lot of oxygen down there. Plus, we have no idea how much of the well he shored up. We don’t know if when he fell if he was in the middle of removing parts of the wall or how far he was in the process. He could have weakened the wall.”
Matthew frowned even as every alarm bell inside of him was screaming. “The internal structure could collapse on top of him,” he said. “We need to get him out of there now.”
Wyatt nodded. “We have to work fast.”
Matthew unwound the rope from around the rigging while Wyatt yanked up the rest of the rope that had been holding Max. He inspected the shredded rope and used a knife to cut down the strands. They quickly replaced the ruined rope and wound the pieces into a loop on the ground. They replaced it with another rope, but without the extra rope, everything was too short. They scooted the rigging closer to the edge, but it wouldn’t extend far enough into the well. They unwound it again and repurposed the metal and rope into a rudimentary winch. Together they lowered the rope back into the well.
“Is this going to work?” Matthew asked as the rope disappeared into the darkness. “It already broke once. Won’t it break again?”
“We’ve got no choice,” Wyatt said. “We don’t have any more rope. This is our only option.”
“What if it breaks again, though?” Matthew asked.
“Would you rather leave Max in the well?” Wyatt asked. “We have to try something.”
Matthew gritted his teeth and lowered the rope into the well, hoping that Max’s shouts for help were about to be answered. “Max, we’re sending down a rope,” Matthew instructed. “Wrap it around your waist.”
The rope dangled into the well, but didn’t move or shift to indicate Max had seen it.
“Max?” Matthew asked, thinking that maybe Max had passed out. The oxygen down there was low. He could become disoriented or confused. Maybe the water had filled the well too fast, and now Max was floating. Maybe a boulder had fallen and landed on him, knocking him unconscious. All of these things flashed through his mind.
Please be safe, he prayed. He wouldn’t be able to face Kathleen if something happened to Max. Despite everything that had happened between him and Max, Max was still family. If he was gone, he would leave a giant-sized hole in all of their hearts.
Matthew couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t even want to think about it. He shouted down into the well, “Max! Tie the rope around yourself and we will hoist you back up.”
For an agonizing moment, nothing happened. Then the rope wiggled back and forth like a fishing line that had caught a fish. The rope twanged as it tightened, and there were three sharp tugs on it as if Max was saying that he was ready. Matthew and Wyatt shared a look of stark relief before nodding at each other. They began to haul Max back to the surface.
Max’s voice floated up and out of the well. “I’m going to try and climb!” he shouted. “Keep pulling, but I’m helping by climbing. The water down here is as cold as ice!”
Matthew strained against the ground. His muscles quivered with exertion. He closed his eyes tight. It seemed as if time stood still and nothing was happening except for the pulling of the rope. His palms felt raw as they hauled Max up. When Max’s exhausted and dirty face emerged from the well, Matthew felt his heart soar with relief.
Max looked terrified. Scratches marred his cheek, and his clothes were soaking wet. Matthew dropped the rope and grabbed Max’s arms, hauling him up and out of the well by sheer force. His mind went through all the worst things that could happen: the rope snapping, Max slipping on the rocks and falling back down, the cold water making him slip out of their grip and splash back into the water.
Max shivered as Matthew yanked him up and out of the well. They both collapsed on the ground in a heap. Max gave Matthew a small exhausted smile. “Did I do the most dangerous task?” he asked in a shaking voice. “How did I do?”
Matthew started laughing and rubbed his hands up and down Max’s arms. “You did it all perfectly,” Matthew said. “You’re the man of the hour.”
Max laughed and dropped his flashlight on the ground as Matthew helped him unwrap the rope from around his waist. “At least I got the stupid chisel,” he said.
22
A knock sounded just outside Allison’s bedroom door. She finished getting dressed and opened the door to see Patton waiting for her. He was leaning against the wall, staring in the opposite direction as if she wasn’t there. “Ready?” he asked.
Allison snorted, but nodded. Patton was trying to act cool and salvage some semblance of his pride after being called out on the hunting fiasco. Their father’s temper had cooled and their mother had calmed, but it still left Patton grumbling over their overreactions, though his cheeks never failed to flush dark red with shame. Ever since he’d joined the effort to create the garden, the two of them had been getting up early to check on their garden’s progress, and today was no exception. Over the past week, they’d managed to construct a fence and test some nuisance deterrents. Only now had they finally begun to see the rewards for their efforts in the form of fragile
green stems. Allison hadn’t realized how difficult keeping a garden would be, or how much she would worry about the little sprouts that had been slowly popping up out of the dirt they’d tilled and cultivated.
As they walked side by side out of the hotel and outside, Allison squinted at the rising sun. She felt as if she spent all of her waking hours outdoors. More than she ever had before. There was no television, music apps, or texts to keep her attention. These days, there was just nature. Allison found herself worrying about her old friends, usually on the rare occasions when she’d overworked her body and couldn’t fall asleep, and sometimes she imagined what it would be like if they reunited. She knew she had changed. Would they all still be friends?
She and Patton meandered around the hotel to the other side where the garden lay. Every time she saw the garden and tiny green shoots poking up out of the earth, it filled her with a certain satisfaction, but also relief that it was still standing. When she slept, she dreamed about keeping the garden weeded and watered. In her nightmares the sun shone too brightly on them and she’d walk out back to see the shoots shriveled and browned from the heat. It amazed her how not long ago her mind was full of college and parties with her friends. Now, her mind was full of water levels and sun exposure. There was dirt under her nails all the time.
They had planted all of the seeds that Wyatt had brought back to the hotel from downtown Galena. At one point, Allison had panicked as she opened up one of the last packets and sprinkled its contents into the ground. What if they didn’t grow? What if nothing happened? They’d be out of food. They might starve.
But then, the garden had proved her wrong. It was barricaded by a tight, if strange-looking fence created from spare wood, wire, and any other bits and pieces that would hold and keep out animals. At the moment Lauren was puttering around the garden, but when Allison got closer, she saw the young woman’s eyes were full of tears and her cheeks were flushed. She looked distraught. Allison’s hope for a pleasant day plummeted.
EMP Catastrophe | Book 3 | Erupting Chaos Page 14