by J. R. Ayers
“Have you heard anymore from Kevin?” Lori asked.
“Yeah, he called up a couple of hours ago. But he wasn’t making any sense. The operator said he just kept saying his uncle Ed was hurt and Buddy Sayers was trying to break down the door to the Kennedy Chamber.”
“Buddy Sayers?”
“He’s one of the weekend security guys. Why Kevin would be talking about him is beyond me. I suspect he’s in shock. Don’t worry, we’ll get him out of there and get him some help.”
Lori looked longingly at the drill rig and said, “How long can they last down there?”
“The Kennedy Chamber can support them for up to ninety-six hours. That should be plenty of time to get to them.”
Philip’s reassuring tone did little to put Lori at ease. Sensing her apprehension, he handed her a business card. “Call me anytime,” he said. “I’ll be busy working the phone and coordinating things, but you call anyway. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
Lori thanked him, and not knowing what else to do, drifted back toward her car. She was leaning against the trunk staring out in space when Helen Mackay pulled up in her red Honda. Kevin’s wife Kara was with her and Lori could tell by the look on her face that she had been crying.
The two women joined Lori by her car and everyone hugged each other. “Kevin’s okay,” Lori said. “He’s been talking on the phone in the rescue chamber.”
“What about Ed?” Helen asked. She said it as if the words were poison on her tongue. Lori shrugged and looked away toward the drill site.
“Kevin mentioned Ed, so it sounds like he’s alive,” she said. “They have the rescue unit. They. . . they’ll be alright.” She wished she could sound more convincing, but she couldn’t seem to control the doubt and worry in her voice.
Helen began to cry, and Lori put an arm around her shoulder. “Ed’s gonna be fine,” she whispered. “Try to be strong; he’s going to need you when they get him out of there.”
“He has to be,” Helen wailed. “I don’t know what I would do without him.”
Lori held her aunt tight and wondered what in the world was going to happen to her next.
Joe Nash woke up at nine a.m. with a blinding headache and went immediately to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. While he waited for the Mr. Coffee to do its thing, he switched on the television and kicked back on the sofa, stretching and yawning away the last remnants of sleep. A live shot of the Logan number 12 coal mine shared the screen with a blond anchor questioning some guy about methane gas levels and the probability of a secondary explosion.
Joe was turning up the TV volume when the phone rang in the kitchen. It was Captain Ross with a new assignment. “Need you up at that coal mine, Joe, the one that’s all over the media. Apparently the vehicle traffic’s getting a little out of hand. The county sheriff called and asked if we could lend a hand. You’re the closet trooper to the scene, so have fun.”
“Well, I was going over to Stephenson to see how things are going,” Joe said. “But it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”
“How nice of you to notice. Check in if you need anything.”
Ross hung up and Joe poured a cup of coffee. He stood in the kitchen staring out the window wondering if Tina might be right. Maybe it was time to leave the troop. Every day a new assignment, a new focus; more paper work, more headaches, and in the case of the murdered Braden boys, more heartache. It was becoming harder and harder to stay on track. His personal life was in a shambles, and as far as his professional life was concerned, for reasons he still didn’t understand, he’d been passed over for promotion for the third time in a row.
Yeah, maybe it is time to move on.
But that would be a decision to make later. Today he was needed to play traffic cop, so he finished his coffee, got dressed and headed out hoping the rain would stay away for a while longer.
Chapter Sixteen
The light rain that had been falling all morning gave way to a downpour soaking the drill site with runoff tinged black from layered coal dust. A few of the men threw up some tarps to protect the drill motor from the deluge while another crew lay sheets of plywood on the ground, thus creating a effective, albeit slick, walkway from the drill site to the office complex.
Lori, Kara and Helen sat quietly in the straw bosses office sipping coffee from paper cups. They’d reluctantly left the drill site when the heavier rain began and, at Jess Phillip’s insistence, retreated to the relative comfort of the office. “Oh, I wish they’d hurry up and get to them,” Helen said, fidgeting with her coffee cup. Lori squeezed her arm and said,
“They will, we just have to be patient. They can only drill at a certain speed.”
“I’m just relieved to know that Kevin is alright,” Kara said. “At least I hope he’s alright.” Tears started in her eyes and she blotted them away with the back of her hand.
“We all have to be strong,” Lori said. “Everybody wants them out, so we just have to wait for them to do their job.”
Jess Phillips came into the office, muttering under his breath about the foul weather. “We had to suspend drillin’ for a while,” he said. “Rain’s comin’ down too fast, the hole startin’ to back fill with muddy water, and that ain’t good.”
“When are you going to start again?’ Lori asked.
“Soon as this rain tapers off.”
The door opened and George Calicino entered the office followed by three women. Lori recognized one of them as Shelia Townsend. She was holding a small baby in her arms and she looked as if she might collapse to the floor at any moment. “Some of the men’s wives,” George said to Phillips. “I figured they could wait in here until the rain stops.” Phillips nodded and pulled out a chair for Shelia Townsend.
“You other ladies help yourselves to the desk chairs,” he said. “There’s coffee yonder in the pot if you want some.”
The women all took seats and introduced themselves. “I’m Jan Dixon,” the older woman said. “This is Amanda Shrewsberry, and that’s Shelia Townsend. All our husbands were in the mine when the explosion happened.” Helen introduced Kara and herself and Lori said,
“I think most of you know me. Deputy Lori Mackay. My brother and uncle are down there with your husbands.”
They talked among themselves for a while, offering words of encouragement to each other as they waited for the rain to taper off. The worst of the downpour subsided a few minutes later and Jess Phillips and George Calicino left to see about getting the drilling underway again.
Lori suggested the women wait in the office while she went to her car to check in with Major Gaston who was still heading up the murder investigation in Stephenson. On her way, she saw Joe Nash pull onto the property and park his cruiser next to her Ford. “Surprised to see you here,” he said as she walked up.
“I had to see for myself,” she said. “My brother and Uncle are in there, so. . .”
“Aw man, I’m sorry, Lori.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda tough. They’re drilling as fast as they can, though. I feel pretty confident that they’ll get them out soon.”
“They’re getting better at rescuing people all the time,” Joe said. “I’m sure it won’t be much longer.” An uncomfortable silence ensued until Lori asked,
“So, what brings you out this way?”
“Traffic,” Joe said. “I passed a whole caravan on the way up here. Everything from news vans to Winnebagos. I had to use my lights and siren to get past all of it.” Lori looked expectantly at the road leading to the mine entrance.
“I suppose they’ll be here anytime. You want me to help you organize some type of parking when they show up?”
“What about your brother and uncle?” Joe asked.
“They have a ways to drill yet. There’s nothing I can do anyway until they get them out of there.”
“Well, alright then, let’s put our heads together and come up with a plan, Joe said.
While Joe and Lori roped off a hundred squar
e-foot area just inside the entry gate in hopes of containing the steady stream of vehicles descending on the property, the rescue team resumed drilling through the coal and rock blocking the elevator shaft. The rain had slowed their progress, but now that the sun had come out and the thunderheads had moved on to the east, the crew stepped up their efforts to make up for lost time.
Jess Phillips and George Calcino sat in Jess’s pickup watching the crew maneuver the Atlas Copco ROC L8 drill head over the elevator shaft. “They should be about halfway down by lunch time,” Jess said. “I’ve ordered up some portable light units, so they can keep at it right on through the night.”
“What in the world made it blow?” George wondered.
“Methane, without a doubt.”
“I checked twice Friday night,” George said. “I knew it was a new dig, so I was careful to make sure it was clear before we started mining.” Phillips rubbed his forehead and leaned back in his seat.
“I know, I saw your log entries. The question is, did Royce check for gas last night before they started? The thing blew up right after their shift began. That tells me there was quite a lot of gas concentrated near the coal face.”
“My guys put down twenty bags of rock dust right before we quit for the night,” George said. “Then I checked for methane just before we rode up in the elevator. Gas levels were well within limits.”
“Yeah, but Royce and his crew went down forty-eight hours later. Plenty of time for gas to build up to combustible levels.”
“Well, let’s just hope everyone made it to a Kennedy Chamber,” George said. “We know Kevin MacKay made it to one of em’. Maybe the other guys did too.”
Phillips stared out the windshield in the direction of the drill rig and said, “Good time to pray, if you believe in that shit.”
Chapter Seventeen
Joe was on his way home when Lori texted him that the drill crew had reached the bottom of the elevator shaft. He glanced at his watch—2:11 a.m. Trooper Riley had just relieved him at the mine so he could get a little sleep while things were relatively quiet, mostly due to the late hour and the relentless rain that had swept back in just after midnight.
He turned around in a wide spot in the road and headed back to the mine. He knew he didn’t have to go back, Riley had things covered, but he felt the need to be with Lori when the rescue crew made it to her brother and uncle. She’d been through a lot the last two days. It was puzzling to Joe how she could hold up as well as she had. First she was shot, and then she had to witness all the carnage Charlie Waddell left behind. As if that wasn’t enough, she was now worried half to death about her family members trapped in a coal mine full of deadly gas.
But there was another reason he wanted to be close to her. As of late, he was beginning to have feelings for her, the kind of feelings he hadn’t felt in years. He had to admit to himself that he found her quiet strength and determination extremely attractive. The fact that she was a natural beauty and filled out her police uniform in a decidedly feminine manner only added to the growing interest he felt for her.
But, what about Tina? That was a question that rambled around in his head more and more lately, especially when he argued with her about visitation rights regarding Chandra. And what the hell was Thad Baxter doing at the house? Surely she wasn’t screwing that scumbag!
Rejection was something Joe didn’t handle well. His mother had walked out when he was five saying she was tired of a whinny little brat messing up her life. His dad started drinking after that and Joe’s life became a battle for survival; scrambling for enough food, ducking beatings from his drunken father, staying one step ahead of Child Protective Services. He somehow made it to eighteen and immediately joined the Army where he trained to be an MP. After a three year hitch, he left the Army and wound up in Chicago, taking a job on the police force. That’s where he stayed until he got word from a former friend that his dad had died of cirrhosis of the liver. Tired of the night shift and dealing with gang-bangers and dopers, he quit the force and moved back to West Virginia determined to make a better life for himself.
And things were going along just peachy, until Tina decided to blow up everything that was near and dear to him by filing for a divorce.
You’ve got some serious thinking to do, Joe ole’ boy, he thought as the rain pounded the windshield in front of him. Something’s gotta change, or you might as well quit the States and go back to Chicago with the gangs and druggies.
An image of Chandra playing with her pool toy crossed his mind and he actually sighed out loud. “Can’t leave my baby, though,” he whispered. “Can not, no way, leave my baby.”
Lori was waiting by the perimeter of the drill site when Joe arrived at the mine. Her hair was damp and the clear plastic rain slicker she wore made her look small and vulnerable against the ominous backdrop of the dark coal mine.
“Got your text,” Joe said. “So, they almost have them out huh?”
“Not yet. They still have to breech the rock fall covering the tracks. It shouldn’t be much longer, though.” Joe pulled on his own rain slicker and covered his campaign hat with a clear plastic cover.
“You must be exhausted,” he said, moving a little closer to Lori.
“If I am, I don’t feel it,” she said shivering. “I just want to see Kevin and Uncle Ed. I just want to know that they’re alright.”
“You’re cold,” Joe said.
“A little. But mostly nervous.”
“Would you mind if I put my arm around your shoulder?” Joe asked. “You know, the body heat thing.” She seemed surprised by the forward question. “Never mind,” Joe said hurriedly. “I just thought—”
“I’d like that,” Lori said, taking Joe’s hand.
He put his left arm around her shoulder and she leaned her weight against him. “You’re cold too,” she said huskily.
“Really? I thought it was a little warm.”
Lori began to sob softly. “Oh I hope they’re okay,” she said. “Aunt Helen would die herself if anything has happened to Uncle Ed. And Kevin. . . he has two little boys. . . “
“Don’t think negative thoughts,” Joe whispered. “They’ll have them out soon. They’re gonna be alright too.”
She snuggled closer to Joe and looked expectantly at the rescue team gathering around the drill site in preparation to descend into the cleared shaft. “I pray so,” she said. “I pray so.”
George Calicino motioned for the six man rescue team to gather around. “I know most of you are from Charleston and aren’t familiar with the layout of the mine,” he said. “I’ll go down with you so I can point out where the rock fall is likely to be. Wes, you bring that pneumatic drill with you and a couple of you other guys bring along the hand tools we’re likely to need. A want the medic to stay close to me. At the very least, there’s gonna be some injuries. Let’s hope they’re minor ones, and let’s pray that there are zero fatalities. Now, let’s position the aerators and move that elevator car back in place so we can get our asses down that shaft.”
The crew rode the elevator to the bottom of the shaft and positioned two aerator hoses designed to pull out gas and coal dust from the air inside the mine. They had donned self rescuer units and cap lights before descending and most of the men were equipped with instruments calculated to detect high levels of methane gas.
George Calicino led the way to the new dig site and was the first to see the pile of rock and layered coal lying across the track a few hundred feet from the elevator. “Wes, get that drill up here and start a hole on the right side,” George said. “Just drill out enough to allow a few men and the medic to get through. The rest of you can start clearing out all this loose crap. Hopefully a scoop or a Joy buggy is still operational. If not, we’ll old school it with picks and shovels. And everyone be careful, that damn top could still be loose. We don’t need another rock fall raining down on our heads.”
Twenty minutes later, Wes had drilled through the narrow side of the rock fall and
using a damaged but still operational battery scoop, the others had cleared out enough of the loose shale to allow the men to pass through to the other side. George Calicino led the way with the medic and two other men following close behind. The first thing they saw was Royce Dixon lying in front of the opening to the new excavation site. He was covered in rock dust and it was clear by the charred condition of his hands and face that he had died instantly when the mine blew. “Aw, shit,” George said. “Royce didn’t make it. I already don’t like the look of this.”
They moved on toward the coal face, careful to step around Dixon’s body. Fifteen feet in, they found Pete Shrewsberry and Chet Townsend lying so close to each other that their legs overlapped at the ankles. Both men’s faces were black and blistered and like Dixon, they appeared to have died instantly. “Good lord, this is awful,” George moaned. “I hope the others made it to safety anyway.”
Five minutes and two hundred feet later revealed that the other three men had suffered the same fate as Dixon, Shrewsberry and Townsend. “Aw this is just plain terrible,” George said. “How in the world am I gonna tell their wives?”
The medic took a moment to check the men for signs of life, but it was obvious to everyone that they were dead. “Well, let’s just keep movin’ on to tunnel number two,” George said. “There’s a Kennedy Chamber just inside the entrance. The operator said Kevin called from there, so let’s hope he and Ed are still alive.”
They arrived at the Kennedy Chamber only to find the entry door standing ajar. George rushed inside and aimed his cap light toward the rear of the chamber. He saw Kevin Mackay lying face down on the floor in a pile of his own vomit. “Get in here, medic!’ George yelled. Then he hurried to Kevin’s side and checked for a heart beat. He found a weak pulse on the side of his neck and sighed with relief. The medic entered the chamber and immediately began to assess the situation. “How is he?” George asked.