Samuel fought him. “We’re going to be buried alive!”
“There’s nothing there,” Meredith said. “It’s all in your head.”
“NO!” Samuel shouted. He shook Clement off and dove for the entrance again. Again, Clement stopped him and dragged him back into the cave. In desperation, Samuel grasped the wooden support beams shoring up the opening. With a thundering roar, the entrance collapsed. The ground shook; dust filled the cavern.
“Damn you!” Clement cried. He grabbed Samuel by the throat, nearly lifting him off his feet, and slapped the younger man across the face, trying to bring him to his senses.
In a flash, Samuel drew his knife and plunged it into Clement’s chest.
The bigger man dropped Samuel and looked down at the knife in disbelief. He reached down and pulled it out. Blood followed his hand and sprayed out over the blade and into Samuel’s open mouth and wide eyes.
Clement dropped to his knees with a sigh and toppled over.
One by one, the ghosts swirled about Samuel in his torment, ancient spirits who sought vengeance against the living.
“Oh, God!” Samuel shouted. “Get out of my head!” He put both hands over his ears as if he was hearing something or someone no one else could hear. He jerked one way and then the other, and then he rose above the floor of the cave and floated there, screaming.
The ghosts of the vengeful spirits flowed into and around him, one after another, and he kept on screaming. Virginia had a sudden clear vision in her head of a house in flames: a fire that Samuel had set, killing his mother and younger sister.
“Mama!” he cried. “I’m sorry!”
Then, without any hesitation, so quickly that no one could have stopped him, he pulled his pistol from his belt, put the barrel into his mouth, and pulled the trigger. Blood splattered against the walls of the cave. The glittering gold streaks glowed red.
Samuel hung in the air a moment longer with half of his head missing, and then flopped to the floor.
And then the ghosts came for Virginia.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lost Blue Bucket Mine, Oregon Territory, October 1851
The First People were angry. This had once been their land, but newcomers had forced them into the desert until their final stand had been made in this very cave. Here, the last of the warriors had protected the sacred chamber where their loved ones descended into the underworld after death, free of shame, anger, or guilt.
The warriors had died, still on guard, not even aware that they were no longer living. Millennia passed. New tribes came, like them but not like them. The ghost warriors attacked these strangers, and to their dismay, found that their weapons, their very bodies, passed through the intruders.
But they also discovered that they could find the secret shame of the living, the guilty conscience of any invader, driving them to desperate acts. In time, the new tribes left them alone, and once again, the protectors slept. More millennia passed.
And then they were awakened by violence in the cave above them. They found the bodies of three newcomers stranger than any of those who had come before, two of them children. The warriors took pity upon them and raised them up, but the children were innocent and unaware. These new souls, who possessed no anger, only confusion, disturbed the ancient spectral warriors, who left them alone.
But they sought out the murderer and brought down their anger upon him.
The murderer was empty of all emotion except hate, a hate equal to theirs.
And yet, there was something deep down inside him, so deep down that the murderer wasn’t aware it was there. The warriors tried to awaken this secret, but their prey escaped them, hiding in the daylight at the front of the cave.
The dead never left the shadows. They festered in the blackness of the earth and nurtured their malevolence toward the living.
Then something called them forth again, and they surged to the front of the cave, where they found the entrance closed and the latest invaders trapped. Instantly, they found the weakest of the invaders, a man tortured by his conscience.
Now he was dead too. The spectral warriors turned their attention to the others, and with unerring instinct, struck at their very souls.
***
The darkness wavered and then disappeared, replaced by a rough wooden cabin. It was freezing inside the cabin despite the smoky fire blackening the walls, sending smoke into Virginia’s eyes. Bayliss stood at the center of the cabin, smiling at her sadly, the young man she could have loved if she had been mature enough to understand his worth. Bayliss, who had given his life for her. Tears sprang to her eyes; it was a familiar pain, one she’d relived many times.
Virginia was staggered by the vision, and yet she accepted it.
It was not her first experience with the “other,” with those who belonged to fairy tales, to ancient legends. But never before had she felt such a concentration of that realm, which was neither past nor present but a place between, where souls still lingered, waiting for the moment when they would at long last be released from their earthly bonds.
The fear and anger was overwhelming. Virginia could see in the eyes of her friends, for whom ghosts were a myth, a thing that children were afraid of but that adults had forgotten to fear, the realization that there was a world behind the one they knew. Purgatory was real.
Here resided old souls and new souls, those ancient and those newly dead, congregated in these dark tunnels, drawn by long-ago wrongs, longing for justice. These were souls neither damned nor blessed, but caught in between, trapped in endless torment. Virginia realized that it was up to her to give them release, for she was the Canowiki.
The living were paralyzed by fear of the dead, overwhelmed by guilt and shame for everything they had ever done wrong. But these thoughts and feelings were not new to her. Indeed, she’d suffered them every night of her life, waking up in the small hours, hearing the pleas of those she had not been able to save, the recriminations of those she’d had to kill, the silence of those she had saved.
So this was no different; this was what she expected, and so she continued to be aware of her surroundings, of the real world. Those she had been sent to save were in danger. She fought the fear and dread within her.
As Virginia came back to the present, she saw that all the others were lying on the ground, moaning and thrashing, unaware of their surroundings.
All but one.
Jonathan Meredith was sitting with his back to the wall, staring at her from across the cave, rifle in his lap. Virginia put her hands around the grip of her pistol and made sure Meredith saw her doing it.
It seemed obvious that there was no guilt, no shame in Meredith’s mind. The ghosts swirled about his head, but they could find no purchase. Any crime he had committed, he had long ago rationalized away.
***
Jonathan Meredith watched his enemies and his companions writhe on the floor of the cave, crying in pain or in shame, he wasn’t sure which. He’d seen people consumed by guilt before and wondered upon it, but never completely understood it. It was weakness, this inability to accept what one has done.
Old wrongs he’d committed came back to him, and though he recognized that the world might see these events as criminal, he saw them as simple necessity. He’d felt sorry for those who had endangered him—whom he had destroyed—for a few days, and then gone on with his life. Only Sarah…
He closed off his mind, putting the memory out of reach like he always did.
And now they were trapped in the Lost Blue Bucket Mine. Everyone knew the location of the gold, everyone who threatened him. He suspected that not all of them were going to survive the coming ordeal—and if he could arrange it, he would try to make sure that no one survived but him. If he could but find a way out of here without the Indians scalping him, all his problems would be solved.
Only one other person in the mine seemed aware of her surroundings. Virginia Reed was staring at him, pistol in hand. I should shoot her right now. He’d
heard stories about the girl, about how she had managed to survive more than one catastrophe. This might be the last time that he could get the drop on her.
He smiled at her. “We seem to be the only ones who aren’t overwhelmed by guilt,” he said.
“I accepted my responsibility for the choices I made long ago,” she said. “But you…you apparently have no remorse.”
“I have done nothing wrong.” He shrugged. “I think we’re going to have to work together if we want to get out of here.”
She stared at him stonily, as if everything within her wanted to say no, but she had others to worry about. She nodded. “We will work together until we get out of here,” she said. But not a moment longer.
***
Virginia had no illusions that Meredith would abide by the agreement to cooperate. She would have to be constantly vigilant. She had more at stake than Meredith, who cared about no one but himself. Virginia had promised Abigail Catledge that she would find and rescue Becky. Gus Catledge’s death only made that promise more binding.
Becky was nearby, and it seemed as if she was half in and half out of consciousness. The girl had risen up a couple of times, crying out, and then fallen back into quiet moaning. Now she rose up again, crying out, “Edwin!”
***
Becky woke up from her dreams of the past. Jed was lying beside her, twitching and moaning. Everyone else in the mine seemed to be incapacitated too, except for Jonathan Meredith and the woman who had introduced herself as Virginia Reed, who were faced off against each other. There was no mistaking the animosity between the two.
“Becky?” she heard. Jed was sitting up, his hands rubbing his face, his eyes frantically searching for her. She stepped toward him, and the relief that bloomed on his face made her forget her vow to kill Meredith, if only for a moment.
“I’m here,” she said, kneeling beside him, clutching his head to her chest. “I’m never leaving you again.”
She looked over her shoulder. Virginia had turned her attention back to Meredith, and he was returning the gaze. Becky had a sudden sense that the justice for her friends’ murderer was in someone else’s hands, and for the first time since the trip began, she felt the burden lift. She would take care of Jed. Meredith would meet his fate, of that she was sure.
The spirits who had invaded the chamber began to dissipate, to flow back into the darkness. The vengeful spirits had the living trapped, and Becky sensed they were in no hurry. She felt only sadness now, and when she closed her eyes, it seemed to her that she could see the shimmering shapes of Allie, Cager, and Edwin, looking as they had looked when they were alive, gazing down on her with pity.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
The ghosts didn’t answer, but one by one, they blinked away, until only Edwin was left. The look on his face was one of love and forgiveness, and Becky cried out at the overwhelming sense of mortification she felt for having abandoned him.
Then he too was gone, though a small part of his presence lingered, as if to promise he would be back.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lost Blue Bucket Mine, Oregon Territory, October 1851
The fire was sputtering, sending more smoke than light into the cavern, and the smoke had nowhere to escape.
One of the branches that had supported the entrance was sticking out of the rubble, and Virginia pulled it out, catching her breath as more rocks tumbled down. She threw the wood onto the fire.
Jed and Becky were holding each other and staring at the fire. Drake was just waking up, while Angus was getting to his feet, looking shaky.
“What in God’s name was that?” he muttered.
“Spirits of the First People,” Virginia said. “Those who were here before even the Indians. They don’t like us newcomers.”
“I saw children,” Drake said. “How is that possible?”
Jonathan Meredith was still sitting with his back to the wall, his gun pointed vaguely in their direction. Virginia shot a glance at Becky, but instead of looking enraged, she looked sad and perhaps relieved, as if a burden she had carried for too long had been lifted.
“I think we have our proof,” Virginia said. “I’m betting if we venture further into the tunnels, we’ll find their bodies.”
“You want justice?” Meredith said. His voice was flat, showing no fear. “We’re all dead, can’t you see? It will take days to clear the entrance, if it’s possible at all.”
“No.” Becky spoke up. “There is another way out.”
“No, there isn’t,” Meredith said. “I’d know about it.”
“How far did you explore?” Virginia asked.
Meredith avoided her eyes. She guessed that he hadn’t strayed far from the entrance at all. The piles of packs and bedding in the front chamber implied that he’d brought others here to do the work. She shuddered, wondering why the personal possessions had been left behind.
Now, after the sudden closing off of fresh air, the smoke from the fire was trailing backward into the darkness. She detected a faint odor she recognized; the smell of death. The smell wafted from deeper in the cave, pushed by a slight breeze. She said, “If there is air, there must be another exit.”
As if in confirmation, ghost lights appeared at the back of the cave, wavering as if urging them to hurry.
Jed broke away from Becky and walked to a small alcove near where the entrance had been. “We found a pile of torches here,” he said. He bent down and picked up a handful of broken branches wrapped in cloth.
“We’d better start now,” Virginia said. “It doesn’t matter if it is night or day, it only matters that we get out of here.”
No one argued with her, though Meredith held back until the last moment before following the rest of them.
Virginia saw that at the rear of the front chamber, the cave split into two tunnels, both of which showed signs of having been widened by tools. The walls glittered with tiny specks of light, and near the center divide, there were piles of ore, with larger chunks of shining metal. It was as if the others didn’t notice this, except Drake, who bent down and picked up a large rock. “Is this…?”
“When we get home, I’ll pay you more than all the gold you can carry,” Virginia said. “Leave it.”
The big man dropped the rock reluctantly. Becky and Jed were standing near the left-hand tunnel, as if hesitant to continue. When Virginia reached their side, the smell of death wafted out of the blackness.
“We have to go on,” Virginia said. “Be careful.”
The bodies of their friends are down there, she thought. God give them strength.
They reached a cave-in, where part of the floor had tumbled into a lower chamber. The odor was overwhelming now. Even Angus gagged at the smell. He pulled a handkerchief from his suit and held it to his nose. Drake leaned over and spewed his last meal onto the rocks.
They picked their way slowly downward. There was a rotting body at the bottom, but it was that of an adult man. Whoever it was had been ravaged by creatures, with bones and hair and bits of rotting flesh scattered about the rocks. There was a journal lying amid the carnage, and Virginia picked it up and put it in her pack.
Meredith was following the others a few yards back and, one by one, as they passed the body, they looked back at him. He ignored them.
The cavern was no longer man-made, but was a hole created by the earth splitting along a seam, with straight, almost sharp edges. They worked their way deeper into the darkness.
“We’re still going downward,” Meredith muttered. “You’re only going to bury us deeper.”
“What the hell does it matter?” Angus said, almost cheerfully.
They reached the end of the natural cleft. There was a small hole there, barely large enough for someone to crawl through. All of them saw a small ghost light floating there, darting in and out of the hole. They hesitated at the narrow aperture.
A small cave opened out to the left. It only extended a few yards be
fore ending in a wall that was so perfectly flat it could have been carved by hand. There, lying at the base of the wall, were the remains of three bodies, carefully and respectfully arranged. Someone had taken two burned-out torches and fashioned them into a crude cross, which they had propped against the wall.
Becky cried out, falling to her knees, and lowered her head. Jed stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder. Two of the bodies were those of children; one of them was larger and dressed in men’s clothing.
“Edwin,” Jed breathed. He turned toward Meredith, raising his hand to strike, but the older man had anticipated him and had his gun aimed squarely at his stepson’s chest. Drake took two quick steps and brought the handle of his pistol down on the back of Meredith’s head.
The man fell forward, the gun discharging harmlessly against the flat wall, the bullet ricocheting back the way they had come.
“You son of a bitch,” Drake snarled. “You murder even children?” He reached down and grabbed Meredith’s gun, then searched the motionless man, finding a bowie knife in his belt.
Meredith stirred, moaning. Angus leaned down. “You’re going to hang from the gallows, mister,” he said. “If you live that long.”
Meredith shook his head, then spit. “I don’t care. None of you matter. The only person I ever cared about was taken from me, but these children laughed and played as if Sarah never existed. I hated them.”
Becky had barely seemed to notice the confrontation, but now she rose. Her face was blank, almost serene. She turned to the small hole where the ghostly light still danced, and before anyone could stop her, she slid through.
Virginia almost cried out, and then realized that the girl had done what needed to be done. They were down to their last couple of torches. If they didn’t find a way out soon, they’d be lost in darkness forever.
“I’ll go first,” she said to Angus. “Send Meredith in after me, so I can keep him covered.”
The Darkness You Fear Page 24