The Fossil Hunter of Sydney Mines

by Jo Ann Yhard

  Jeeter leaned over and spoke quietly in Grace’s ear. “You and Mai stay here. We’ll see if there’s another way out.” He motioned for Fred to follow him. The two of them disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel like ghosts.

  “We should go with them, shouldn’t we?” Mai asked softly.

  “They’ll come back if they find anything,” Grace murmured. “Come over this way, farther from the opening.” They couldn’t hear Stuckless, but he could have pretended to leave and might still be above them.

  Grace paced slowly back and forth through the tunnel, away from the opening. This was one of the last spots her dad might have been. She shone her flashlight back and forth across the ground in front of her as she paced, looking for any sort of clue that would tie her dad to this place.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Grace noticed something in the dirt a metre or so away. She bent down to take a closer look. There were strange markings on the ground—a row of circle marks imprinted in the dust. “Mai, come see this,” she called quietly. “Isn’t it weird?”

  “That is weird,” Mai agreed as she bent down to look.

  Grace shone her beam around, looking for clues as to what could have made the circles. “Hey!” she said. “There are more marks over here—maybe from a wheelbarrow or something—and footprints, too.”

  “Why would there be a wheelbarrow down here?” Mai asked.

  Grace walked along the edge of the wall. Her foot banged into something and she stumbled forward, her fingers brushing against some sort of fabric. She felt for the edge of the cloth and pulled. Underneath it were black barrels—a whole row of them. Grace shone her light on one. There was something painted in bright yellow on its side:

  Sandstar? That was the company that had won the tar ponds project. What was going on here?

  “What’s that?” Mai asked, coming up beside her.

  “Don’t touch that!” Grace warned.

  “Oh my gosh—it’s toxic waste!”

  “I think it’s from the tar ponds,” Grace said, backing away. Her thoughts flashed to the sites she’d visited on the internet. The cleanup using the incinerator. Sandstar’s claims that they were on schedule. She remembered her dad’s doubts that it could handle all the waste. She flashed her beam along the rows of toxic waste in the abandoned tunnel. Her dad and the environmentalists had been right all along! Sandstar must be secretly dumping the waste the incinerator couldn’t handle! “Mai, we have to get out of here!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Sandstar—that’s the company that has the contract for the tar ponds cleanup,” Grace said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you see?” Grace said, tilting her injured arm toward the barrels. “They’re dumping toxic waste in the tunnels! I bet that’s why Stuckless was following us. He must be involved somehow!”

  Mai swung her light across the floor. “But look at these circle marks on the ground. They’re the same size as those barrels. It looks like there used to be a lot more toxic waste here.”

  Grace frowned. “Why would they go to all the trouble to hide the barrels here just to take them out again?” She moved slowly along the row to examine the barrels more closely.

  A bit farther down the line, Grace noticed something sticking out from between two of them. She bent down and tugged it loose. When she saw what it was, she gasped and collapsed to the floor.

  “What is it?” Mai peered over her shoulder.

  “My dad’s hat,” Grace choked. “He was wearing it the morning he disappeared.” It felt like she was in a trance. “That means he was here that day.” She held the hat gently in her hand and traced the embroidered letters on the front: D-A-L. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  The hat had a tear on one side and there were dark marks splattered across the normally white material. Grace couldn’t breathe. She stood up, slowly made her way to the sinkhole opening, and held the hat up under the light. “There are weird stains on the brim,” she said. “And they’re not coal dust—they’re kind of reddish.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Mai said, touching her arm. “Is that blood?”

  “Blood?” Grace closed her eyes. She felt like she was going to throw up.

  “It s-s-sure looks like it,” Mai stuttered.

  “It can’t be,” Grace mumbled, clutching the hat protectively to her chest. But if Sandstar was dumping toxic waste and her dad had found out…

  She opened her eyes slowly and stared at the stains. Of course it was blood. Grace sank to the ground. She was finished running away from the truth. The part of her that had always thought that maybe he was alive felt like it was shrivelling up.

  It was over.

  “We found a way out!” Jeeter said, appearing from around the corner. “There’s another tunnel off this one that goes right to the ocean.”

  Neither Grace nor Mai moved.

  “What’s the matter?” Jeeter asked. “I said we found a way out. Come on!”

  “It’s her dad,” Mai said. She was tugging her hair again. “I think Grace is in shock or something. She found his hat!”

  Jeeter looked startled as his glance fell to the bloodstained hat. “What happened?” he asked.

  Mai shone her flashlight on the toxic waste barrels. “Her dad must have found the guys who were dumping this toxic waste in the tunnels,” she said in a hushed voice.

  “Oh, no,” Jeeter said. His voice sounded hollow.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Mai said. “I’m not sure Grace can even hear us!”

  “Well, we can’t stay here,” Jeeter said. “Stuckless is coming. It’s not safe. C’mon, Grace. Get up.”

  Grace felt like a rag doll. Her brain didn’t seem to be connected to her arms and legs. She watched as if from far away as Jeeter pulled frantically on her sleeve. She figured she should get up. He wanted her to.

  “Grace, what’s the matter with you?” Jeeter said, tugging harder on her sleeve. “Didn’t you hear me? We have to go!”

  Mai knelt down beside Grace and brushed the hair from her eyes. “We have to go,” she spoke softly in her ear. “Grace? Can you hear me?”

  Grace leaned forward and closed her eyes, touching her forehead against Mai’s. “I don’t know what to do,” she sobbed. She could feel warm tears on her face.

  “We’ll figure this out,” Mai said, taking her hand. “I promise.”

  Grace looked into Mai’s concerned eyes. She was such a good friend. But what could she do? The unthinkable had already happened.

  “What’s taking you guys so long?” Fred panted, racing into view.

  Mai pulled Grace to her feet and held her hand tightly as she led her away. Just before they turned the corner, Grace looked back, squinting to see the spot where she’d found her dad’s hat—the place where he had to have been. But there was only darkness.

  Chapter

  25

  THEY ROUNDED A TURN INTO THE LIGHT AND GRACE SQUINTED against the glare. She could smell the ocean.

  “C’mon, hurry!” Fred shouted back to them. He was teetering on a big boulder at the edge of the water. There was only a metre or so between the cliff and the rising tide.

  The beach was littered with mounds of dried kelp, and its rotting, salty smell mingled with the damp sea air. Rain was exploding from the thunderheads above. Stinging needles of water pelted Grace’s face and arms as she emerged onto the beach. The pain on the outside seemed to dull some of the pain inside and she tilted her face upward, welcoming more.

  “Where are we, anyway?” Mai asked. She looked back and forth along the shore. “Grace?”

  “What?”

  “Do you know this place? It’s not Battlemen’s Beach, that’s for sure!” Mai’s voice rose.

  Grace shook her head. What does it matter now? she thought.

  Mai’s fingers closed gently around Grace’s wrist. “It’s important!” she said firmly.

  Grace sighed. “Well, we were at the PA4, which is pretty much un
der the Point Aconi lighthouse.” She glanced above them to the cliffs. “Look, you can see the tip of it up there.”

  Grace stepped onto a flat boulder at the edge of the waves. She leaned as far forward as she dared. “There!” she said, pointing. “I can see the very tip of Little Table Island. The rest of it is hidden by the point.”

  “So we’re on the opposite side of the point, then?” Fred asked. “We’ve never been here before.”

  Grace pulled the map out of her dad’s field bag. She spread it out on the rocky beach. Point Aconi stretched like a long finger into the ocean. She traced along the right side of the point with her finger. “That’s Battlemen’s Beach.” She pointed to a small sliver off the point. “And this is Little Table Island.”

  “Oh,” Mai said, crouching down beside Grace. “So we’re here, then?” She touched the left side of the long finger on the map.

  “We have to be,” Grace nodded.

  “Uh, guys?” Fred broke in. “The tide’s almost in. And it doesn’t look like we can get back to Battlemen’s Beach from here—the water’s already risen all the way up to the cliffs that way. We’re gonna get trapped here if we don’t start moving!”

  Grace looked up at the towering cliff beside them. Always stay as far away from the rock face as it is high. Her dad’s words echoed in her head. But his warning isn’t much good to us now, she thought as she watched the small waves from the incoming tide curl around her feet. She was close enough to touch the crumbling slate of the cliff face.

  There was nowhere to go. If there were a rock slide, they’d be buried.

  “Grace?” Mai said. “What are we going to do? The water…it’s everywhere.” Her voice was high and scratchy.

  “Have you ever been on this side of the point?” Jeeter asked. “Where would we end up if we go down that way?” He pointed off in the other direction, away from Battlemen’s Beach.

  “I don’t know,” Grace said. “My dad and I never came this far before. I always wanted to come around the point by boat and see this side of the beach from the water.” She remembered pleading with her dad to come over here. He’d promised to take her one day. “But we never did…” she trailed off.

  “Well, what choice do we have?” Mai squeaked, flinging dripping strands of hair away from her face. “We can’t go back into the tunnel, not with the chance of another cave-in!”

  “Yeah, pancake city!” Fred said, slapping his two hands together. “Besides, that Stuckless guy is coming back for us, remember?”

  Grace shuddered.

  “Guys?” Fred said. “Whatever we’re doing, we’d better do it, like, pronto.”

  The water had now risen past Fred’s ankles. Their tiny scrap of shore was disappearing fast.

  For a second Grace felt like just leaning against the cliff and waiting for the water to come and take her away. It would be so easy.

  “Come on,” Jeeter said. He scurried over the huge boulders on the beach, not looking back.

  Fred started to follow behind Jeeter, but his foot slipped on the wet surface of a boulder and he banged his knee against the stone. “Ouch!” He turned back toward Grace and Mai, frowning and rubbing his shin.

  “Are you okay?” Mai asked.

  “Yeah, of course,” Fred bluffed. “I’m fine.”

  He jumped back up on the boulder and held his hand out to help Mai.

  “Thanks, Fred,” she said as she grabbed his hand.

  Fred’s face shone as he pulled Mai up beside him. He didn’t let go of her as they continued over the rocks.

  Grace gazed longingly at the approaching waves and sighed. Sluggishly, she picked up the rear. Watching everyone’s back was a different view, she mused. She was used to being the leader. As she followed, she overheard Mai filling Fred in about the toxic waste and finding her dad’s hat.

  The rain had finally stopped, but the rocks were still slick and dangerous. Wet clumps of seaweed hid gaps between the boulders, and more than one trapped foot had to be yanked free as they clambered over the uneven shore. Blood oozed from the nicks and scratches they obtained from grasping at the sharp barnacles that encrusted most of the rock surfaces. Gulls screamed overhead. It was like they were in a hostile alien world.

  Grace felt as if she’d forgotten everything she’d ever known. She was lost in a daze. Only having one arm to balance made it even tougher, but she refused all offers of help. It was Mai who’d finally suggested using their caving gloves to protect their hands from the barnacles. Grace couldn’t believe that she hadn’t thought of that.

  After a torturous half hour, Grace, Mai, Fred, and Jeeter finally hit a clearing with a few flat boulders. They collapsed to rest and examine their injuries.

  “Be careful, these are the last of the bandages,” Mai warned. “Fred! You have to clean the wound first!” She tossed him the disinfectant.

  “Me?” he said. “Aren’t you going to do it?”

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” she griped. But she was smiling as she kneeled down beside him to help.

  Leaning backward, Grace squinted up at the cliffs above her. The rocks looked strange. She stood up to examine them more closely. Her fingers traced the smooth uniform ridges. Were they…tree trunk fossils? She stepped back to get a broader view. “Wow!” she exclaimed. There was a forest full of upright tree trunks encased in the cliff!

  Wait ’til Dad sees this! The moment the thought sprung into her head, tears stung her eyes. He wouldn’t see it, not ever. Her excitement at the fossil discovery evaporated as quickly as it had come. Grace pulled her dad’s hat out of her pack. Careful to avoid looking at the stains on the brim, she switched it with her own, tugging it down over her eyes. It was loose, but she didn’t adjust it.

  Mai was staring at her. Grace quickly looked away. Rubbing away her tears, she wondered where Jeeter was. Where had he gone this time?

  As if in answer to her silent question, he emerged from behind a huge boulder. “You guys aren’t going to believe this,” he said, a huge grin on his face. “Follow me!”

  Fred tugged Mai toward where Jeeter was beckoning them. They scrambled over the terrain and out of sight around a corner. Alone, Grace dragged herself to her feet, her arm throbbing worse than ever. Her eyes were again drawn to the sea. It sounded like her wave machine. She was suddenly very tired. If I lie down, will I float away? she wondered to herself.

  Grace reluctantly followed in the direction of her friends. As she rounded another outcropping, she stopped abruptly. There, in the middle of nowhere, was a big wooden wharf with two fishing boats and a huge yacht tied up to it.

  “Wow!” Fred said, running toward the wharf. “I bet they have their own cook on a yacht like that. Maybe he’ll make me a hamburger. I’m sooo hungry!” He stopped as he was about to step onto the wharf and turned to wave them on.

  “Wait a minute,” Mai said. “We don’t know these people.”

  “Who cares?” Fred said, walking back toward his friends. “This is Cape Breton, not New York. You think they’re the fish mafia or something?”

  “Very funny, Freddo,” Jeeter said. “But Mai has a point. They could be anybody.”

  “All I’m saying is that we have to be careful,” Mai said. “Maybe we should check it out first.”

  “I’ll go,” Jeeter volunteered.

  “Watch out,” Mai warned. It seemed like she might follow him. But then Fred touched her arm and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he said, it convinced her to stay beside him. That’s a first, Grace thought, Mai listening to Fred?

  Jeeter walked slowly toward the yacht. It twisted slightly in the current, its long sleek side now visible.

  Suddenly, Mai waved her arms frantically at Jeeter. “Jeeter, come back!” she rasped as loudly as she could. She pointed at the side of the yacht.

  “Why?” he called back to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Look at the name on the yacht! It’s Sandstar!”

  Chapter

  26

  JEETE
R MOTIONED TO HIS EAR AND SHOOK HIS HEAD. “I CAN’T hear you!”

  “She said ‘Sandstar,’” Fred bellowed, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Never heard of it,” he added, looking at Mai.

  “Be quiet!” Mai said, yanking him backward. “Sandstar is the company that’s dumping their toxic waste in the mines!” she explained.

  “Oh, no!” Fred cried.

  Vrrrbrubrbrubrub!

  There was a low rumble, and a waft of smoke drifted from the back of the yacht.

  “Hide!” Mai said frantically, pulling Fred and Grace down behind a boulder.

  Grace poked her head back out. “Hide,” she mouthed to Jeeter, pointing to the yacht. Jeeter dove behind a stack of crates just as two men appeared on the yacht’s glistening white deck.

  “It’s almost high tide,” the taller one said as he untied the mooring line. “We’ll be able to get the rest of those barrels from the cave soon and that’ll be the end of it.”

  “Just in time, too,” his companion said. “That new strip mine will have workers and equipment crawling all over Point Aconi any day now.”

  “Yeah, we’ll get this last batch to the old bootleg mine site in Florence that Stanley told us about and then there will be nothing left to find. They can dig ’til the cows come home and it won’t matter.”

  The smaller one chuckled. “No one will ever find out that the incinerator can’t handle all the waste. We’ll get the full four hundred million from the contract and retire to some island. Heck, we can buy an island!”

  Watching the pair from her hiding place, Grace gasped. Mai squeezed her hand.

  The two men laughed.

  “We’ll get the barrels and come back here to wait. When it gets dark, we’ll head to Florence.”

  “Where’s that lazy bum Stanley, anyways? He was supposed to be here to give us a hand.”

  The tall man grunted. “He doesn’t seem too fond of manual labour.”

  “I noticed that, too,” the shorter one agreed. “Come on, we’d better get moving.”

  The two men disappeared inside the yacht. Moments later, the boat backed smoothly out of its mooring and cruised out of sight.