Inhabited

by Ike Hamill

  “Come on,” Ryan said.

  Justin was already halfway through the door anyway. He left it cocked open for Travis.

  Ryan was sitting on the couch. He fired up his lighter and touched the flame to the bowl of his bong as he inhaled. Travis pressed the door shut behind him. Justin and Travis took chairs as Ryan turned his face to the side and exhaled into a pillow.

  “What’s happening?” Ryan asked. His voice produced little more than a croak.

  “We need a new hang,” Travis said.

  Justin shrugged.

  “Where else?” Justin asked again. “And what’s wrong with this place anyway? Ryan’s got his own entrance. It’s private enough.”

  Travis didn’t answer. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

  “He’s right,” Ryan said after clearing his throat. “This place just has that oppressive parent vibe seeping down from upstairs. I feel it.” He coughed again.

  “They’re not even home half the time,” Justin said.

  “Yeah, but which half?” Travis asked. “The point is that you never know. We should get out of here this weekend, you know? Let’s do Vegas. We can try to get comped and eat at shitty buffets.”

  “Come on,” Justin said. “It’s a day’s pay up and back. And it’s only cheap there if you have money to spend. It’s oxymoronic.”

  The door banged open. When the young man slipped through he slammed it shut behind himself and then pressed back against it. “Holy shit, holy shit!”

  They all just stared at him.

  Eventually, Ryan said one word. “What?”

  Ryan slid over and made room on the couch. Miguel took a place in front of the bong. He put up a finger to ask them to wait while he took a hit.

  Travis raised his eyebrows and tapped his foot impatiently. Miguel waved for the pillow and then coughed into it. On the couch next to him, Ryan frowned and scratched his nose as he watched.

  “Listen,” Travis said, clearing his throat. “Nothing ever happens here. Nothing is interesting. Nothing is exciting. Barstow is a fucking desert that doesn’t even know how to be a decent desert. So when you come in here like you’ve got big news and then you leave us all hanging, you’re really just making a bad situation worse. So just spit out your shitty news and quit making us wait for it.”

  “Yeah,” Justin said. “Suspense requires reward.”

  “What he said,” Travis said.

  “There’s gold in Old Hang,” Miguel said.

  The room was silent for several seconds.

  Everyone erupted at once.

  “Bullshit,” Travis said.

  “Fuck you,” Ryan yelled. He smacked Miguel’s shoulder.

  “I’m serious,” Miguel said. “Totally serious.”

  “This is a work, right?” Justin asked. “Just admit it now and we’ll all stay friends. You and Travis are trying to work us.”

  “What are you talking about?” Miguel said.

  “Travis had that stupid story last week about how some guy named Cameron,” Justin started.

  Travis interrupted him—“Clarence.”

  “Some guy named Clarence took his girlfriend into Old Hang and they both got eaten by some monster. Then you show up and start talking about gold. Then one of you is going to say, ‘I think we should go looking for gold down there.’ And we end up underground while Jordan or Carlos jumps out and scares the shit out of us, right?”

  Miguel shook his head. “I didn’t even know about Travis’s story. Some guy and his girlfriend died?”

  Justin rolled his eyes. “This is a work.”

  “It wasn’t his girlfriend,” Travis said. “And this was back in the seventies. They’re missing and presumed dead, but since they never found the bodies, nobody knows for sure.”

  “Yes,” Ryan said. He picked up his bong and used a set of tweezers to pick through the char in the bowl. “This is definitely a work. I agree with Justin.”

  “Tell me about the couple,” Miguel said to Travis.

  “Like I said, it was the seventies. Some guy named Clarence was trying to get with this girl named Joan. They went down there, but they were never seen again. His car was found up by the Nook. That’s how they know they went in the mine,” Travis said.

  “That’s creepy,” Miguel said.

  “Let me ask you something,” Justin began. “If they never found the bodies or anything, how did you have all that detail about exactly what happened to them down in the mine? Were there cameras? Did psychics reconstruct the details of the doomed expedition?”

  “It’s just basic storytelling, man,” Travis said.

  “So these people could be anywhere then. They could have moved to Alaska to work at a salmon packing plant. They could be in Georgia, selling peanut butter door to door,” Justin said. He shifted in his chair to face Travis.

  “You never believe in anything,” Travis said. “You’re so pessimistic.”

  “Me? You’re convinced that every moment of every day has to be torture. You’re convinced that you live in the shittiest place in the world, and you’re never going to have the life you want. And you call me pessimistic?”

  “I’m open to new experiences,” Travis said. “But I’m not going to sugarcoat reality.”

  “It’s so frustrating to be around such a negative attitude all the time,” Justin said. “Maybe I will take a hit off of that bong.” He leaned forward and Ryan pulled the bong back towards himself protectively.

  “Wait,” Ryan said. “First tell me about the peanut butter.”

  Both Travis and Justin laughed.

  “There is no peanut butter, man,” Justin said. “Never mind, I don’t want to get that fucked up. Miguel, tell us more about your bullshit gold story.”

  Miguel shook his head. “It’s not bullshit, man. I found out all about it. They’re going to start mining on it pretty soon and then everyone is going to know. But if we could get in there before they start up, we could grab some of the easy stuff right off the walls and we would clean up.”

  “Old Hang was a gypsum mine,” Justin said. “There’s no gold in a gypsum mine.”

  Travis surprised Justin by agreeing with him. “He’s right. Besides, why would they just walk away from gold in the walls? At the very least, high school kids would have snarfed that shit up years ago. Why would it still be there for the taking?”

  “Two reasons,” Miguel said. “Wait, is there peanut butter?”

  Ryan looked up, hopeful.

  “No,” Justin and Travis said.

  “Anyway,” Miguel said. “You can’t get to the spot easily. There’s no lateral entrance for the shaft—you have to either climb up from the tailings, or rope down from the winze.”

  “Does he know what he’s talking about?” Justin asked Travis. Travis shrugged.

  “Second,” Miguel started, “most people think that area is haunted and dangerous. Maybe that’s because of that Clarence guy who died.”

  “That was a bullshit story,” Justin said.

  “Third,” Miguel said, “it’s not in the gypsum part of the mine. It’s from where the mine shaft intersected with a natural limestone cave. In the limestone there was a vein of quartz. In the quartz, there was gold. The miners didn’t trust the cave so they never went in there.”

  “So on the dozens of expeditions that have been in that mine over the years, how come nobody knows about this?” Justin asked. “And that was three reasons. You said two.”

  “You don’t listen,” Miguel said. “They do know about it. They’re getting ready to start mining on it pretty soon. We have to get in there before they get all the permits and everything. Right now, it’s government property. Every citizen has the right to go down there. Once they get all their permits, it will be illegal for anyone else to go in there and take gold. We’re screwed once that happens.”

  “I don’t think it works that way,” Travis said.

  Justin nodded. “You can’t just take gold. And that place is condemned. It’s
trespassing to go in there.”

  “Oh yeah?” Miguel asked. Before anyone could answer, he lifted his butt off the couch and began digging his hand into his pocket. He fished out a plastic baggie and dropped it on the coffee table with a hand flourish. “Then what’s that?”

  Justin twisted his mouth into a scowl.

  Travis reached forward and picked up the bag.

  “Gross. It’s all sweaty,” Travis said.

  “That’s right,” Miguel said. “The world is sweaty. It’s a damn sweatpocalypse out there.”

  Travis lifted the bag and held it up to the overhead light.

  “The moisture you feel on that bag is one-hundred percent Venezuelan ball sweat.”

  “Ugh,” Travis said, dropping the bag back to the table. It thumped when it hit.

  Justin leaned forward and picked up the bag by the corner. He teased apart the plastic zipper and shook the bag to rearrange the contents. Most of the rock was cloudy grey and white quartz, but he saw distinct threads of shiny gold. Justin pulled the biggest chunk from the bag. It was a golf ball of rock. He picked at the quartz and pulled off a flake to reveal a big deposit of gold.

  “Hey,” Miguel said.

  Justin picked up Ryan’s tweezers and used the point to dent the metal.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “Do you listen to anything I say? It came from the mine. Technically, the cave attached to the mine, but close enough.”

  “Bullshit,” Justin said.

  Chapter Three — Class

  ROGER SHIFTED HIS WEIGHT again. The plastic seat hurt his ass. He couldn’t wait for the end of the lecture. His eyes returned to the chalkboard where the woman had written her name. “Dr. Deborah Grossman.” The D in doctor was significantly darker and larger than the D of the professor’s name. She clearly had feelings of inadequacy.

  Roger glanced at his fellow classmates. He was one of only four students. The guy with the dark hair—was his name Aaron?—was probably another paid helper. Aaron looked just as bored as Roger felt. The other two were probably students, or interns, or whatever. What did they call them? Teaching assistants? Something like that.

  The door groaned on its hinges and Dr. Deb came back in. She licked her fingers before handing out the copies of the instructions to the four of them.

  “Sorry,” she said. “The copier was broken and I had to go to the one upstairs. These are the procedures. Feel free to bring that copy with you on Sunday, but I want you to have those memorized. You’ll be in dark, cramped places and your hands will be full. I want you to have a good sense of the procedures even when you’re not looking at the paper.”

  The girl, Florida, was already hunched over her copy, running her finger down the sheet as she memorized it. Roger looked at his and squinted. The type was tiny. Half of the instructions were numbers for calibration. It would take him a week to memorize that, and he only had two days. He was going to have to fake it.

  “I’ve showed you the Hoffman probe and the drop-stamp. What haven’t we gone over?”

  The kid in the front shot up his hand. Roger couldn’t remember the kid’s name.

  “Kevin?” Dr. Deb asked.

  That was it—Kevin.

  “Have you told us about sampling and containment procedures yet?” Kevin asked.

  “No, but that’s a good point. If you get a positive reading on any of your devices, you’re going to stamp, log, and then call in. That’s all you’re going to do. I don’t want any of you to try any of the sampling or containment operations. Are we clear about that?”

  “Crystal,” Roger said. Dr. Deb locked eyes with him. Roger blushed and looked down at his paper. He had no room for snark. This job didn’t pay much, but he needed the money. His mouth had cost him enough paychecks and he was determined to not let it happen again.

  “Good,” Deb said. He could feel her eyes on him. He kept looking down at his paper. “I want to say one thing, and I want you to all take it to heart. You will witness something this Sunday that is outside the realm of your experience or understanding. Believe that. I don’t want anyone surprised about what they encounter. When you encounter something, I want you to stay put. We’re not here to be frightened or run away. If you have a problem with that, you can bow out now and I’ll thank you and pay you for your time today. If you are serious about showing up on Sunday, please raise your hand now to indicate that I can count on you.”

  Roger looked up. Dr. Deb was staring right at him.

  Kevin and Florida already had their hands up. Aaron frowned and raised his hand. Roger put his hand up slowly to join the others. These people were crazy, but he needed the money.

  “Good,” Dr. Deb said. “Florida, I want you to pair with Roger. Aaron, you’re going to go with Kevin.”

  Kevin gave a little fist-pump and put his hand out to Aaron. Instead of shaking with him, Aaron just waved at the kid. Roger smiled at Florida, but she didn’t even glance his direction.

  “Okay,” Dr. Deb said. “See you on Sunday.” She gathered her bag and walked out.

  Roger was still extracting himself from the chair while the others fled. He got to the doorway and saw the girl moving quickly down the hall towards the stairs.

  “Excuse me!” Roger said. “Florida?”

  She turned but didn’t come back. Roger hurried after her. When he caught up with her, he was out of breath. “Hi,” he said. He started to put out his hand but then retracted it. He didn’t want to seem as needy as Kevin. “I’m terrible with numbers. I guess I have one of those learning things or whatever. Also, my eyesight is not great. I’ll recopy these numbers to a bigger sheet unless you’re already going to memorize them. I figure that if we’re together, there’s probably no need for me to get all worried about having all the numbers, you know?”

  “We’re supposed to double-check each other,” she said, folding her arms.

  “Yeah, I know. Trust me though, it’s going to take forever if you want me to be worried about the numbers.”

  “We both have to know the calibrations. If you want to back out, I’m sure Dr. Grossman can find me another partner.”

  “No! No. That’s okay. I’ll manage it. I suppose I can copy them over to cards or something,” he said. She had already turned to walk away. “Thanks, Georgia. See you on Sunday.”

  “It’s Florida,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Okay, Virginia,” he said to himself. The door to the stairwell closed behind her.

  Chapter Four — Mission

  “GO HOME,” JUSTIN SAID, pointing emphatically. “Go on, get! We don’t want you. Go home!”

  Travis covered his mouth as he laughed.

  “But I want to come with you guys,” Ryan said.

  The night had cooled off a little, but it was still too hot to be walking halfway across town. Justin’s temper got worse with every new drop of sweat that formed on his forehead.

  “You can come with us, but you have to keep up,” Justin said.

  “He’s too high to keep up,” Miguel said. “Give him a break.”

  “Do you believe in the gold?” Justin asked.

  Miguel shrugged.

  “No, seriously, do you believe in it or not?”

  “Yeah,” Miguel said.

  “Then move faster. If we don’t catch up with Joy, then we can’t go find your gold.”

  “Technically, we can,” Travis said. Justin turned to this new voice and raise his eyebrows. Travis buckled under scrutiny. “No—you’re right. We need the equipment.”

  “Good. We all agree. Miguel, why don’t you help Ryan keep up?”

  “Yeah,” Ryan said, inexplicably turning on Miguel. “That’s true. Why don’t you?” Ryan sounded upset at Miguel’s shortcomings.

  Miguel laughed until everyone joined him.

  “Come on,” Justin said. He took the lead walking down the dusty sidewalk. A wind was kicking up the sand. It wasn’t enough breeze to cool anything down, but the sand gave the streetlights an oran
ge glow. Justin imagined that hell would look like this at night. It would probably feel like this too.

  At the next intersection, Travis tugged on his arm. Justin stopped.

  “This way,” Travis said.

  “How come?”

  Miguel and Ryan were following arm in arm. They caught up to the conversation.

  Ryan, as befuddled as he was, came up with the explanation. “You can’t just go talk to Joy. If you want to talk to Joy, you better have Kristin with you. And don’t talk to Kristin without clearing it with Carlos first. Everyone knows that.”

  Justin nodded along. Ryan was right—everyone did know that. It was the damn heat that was making his brain malfunction. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand how anyone could function in that heat.

  “Got it,” Justin said. Travis led the way. They went past the front of the store and down the side street to the alley. They walked right down the middle of the access road. Neighbors behind the grocery store would call the cops if they saw anyone slinking around the shadows. It had happened before.

  When they got to the loading dock, Travis climbed up the bumper and banged on the metal door. It pushed open a second later. A pair of women came through and walked by Travis while pushing cigarettes into their mouths. He caught the door.

  “¿Está Carlos?” Travis asked the women.

  “Yeah,” one woman said, lighting her cigarette. “Go on in. Nobody cares.”

  “Be right back,” Travis said to the others.

  Ryan wandered over to the women to talk to them. Travis slipped through the door and disappeared inside.

  “This is convoluted,” Miguel said to Justin.

  “You have a better plan?” Justin asked.

  “Can’t we just go buy a bunch of flashlights and batteries?”

  “With what? Have you got a bunch of money that I don’t know about? We’re going to need whatever we scrape up just to buy enough gas to fill up Jordan’s truck.”

  “I didn’t think of that. I guess I figured we could ride bikes out there, but it would be too far.”