Mirror of Stone

by Corie J. Weaver

  So Joel wouldn’t have had to go very far to get deeper into the mountains than anyone. She had showed the map to Frank one night when he came by to check on her.

  “Yeah, you could get there if you had to. Not sure why anyone would.”

  She showed him the confusing passages in Joel’s logbook.

  Frank had rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I guess it finally got to him.”

  “What?”

  “The dust. After a while you stop being so careful.” He closed the logbook and ran his hand over the cover. “I wouldn’t worry too much about finding a meaning to those bits. I don’t think there is one.”

  Disappointment stabbed her. She had assumed out there she would find a clue. Now she had to accept Susan must have been right. It was just a fancy vidplayer from Claro after all.

  Eleanor had put away the last of the groceries at the Doyles’ when Jenna burst into the kitchen from the side door, out of breath and flushed.

  “Jenna, what’s the matter?”

  “Come on, we’ve got to get you out of here, hide you.”

  Jenna held her pack, a respirator and a loose, roomy coat like many of the prospectors wore. “There’s a Guard down by the meal hall. Frank heard him asking questions and snuck out to tell me. Let’s get you under cover.”

  Eleanor raised her hand to stop her. “If I have to leave camp anyway, there’s a place I’d like to go… but I’m not sure how to get there.”

  Jenna flashed her teeth and handed Eleanor the pack. “Frank told me there might be a place you would head, as good as any. Show me.”

  Eleanor yanked the map from her pack. Jenna’s eyebrows rose when Eleanor pointed to the spot deep into the mountains, north and east. “That’s what he said, but I didn’t believe him. Head that way and at least we’ll know which way you’re going. We’re here, right?” She stabbed the map.

  Eleanor nodded.

  “Go up and over the ridge to the east of camp. Then go south in the gully. Yes, south, I know what I’m saying, for about two, maybe three hours. Keep your eyes open for a stack of rocks that comes up to your waist. There’s a narrow pass, a crack in the rock. It’ll take you through the next range of mountains and back up north and east. Otherwise you’ll have too much climbing.”

  “I’m going to need water, and...”

  Jenna opened the cabinets behind Eleanor. “I’ll tell them to take it out of your pay.”

  Eleanor grabbed food bars, and Jenna tossed in bags of water and purifying tabs. “There’s lots of water out in the mountains, but don’t try drinking it without the tabs, that’ll be more trouble than you need. Wear the respirator. I know it’s not comfortable, but the dust is worse. No point in a compass or GPS, not out there.”

  Jenna helped her adjust the respirator around her face, put the pack over the loose coat and patted her shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll keep the damned Guard going in circles. Lay low and it’ll be fine.” With a quick hug, Jenna ran out the door.

  Eleanor took a deep breath, slipped out the back and ran for the eastern ridge.

  After his arrival at the mining camp, Adam had been shuttled back and forth between a half-dozen houses. Each resident claimed the girl had either just been there, or due to come any minute and oh-so-helpfully suggesting new places for him to look. Perhaps the Johnsons’? Or down by the creek? Adam felt trapped in a madman’s game of hide-and-go-seek and he didn’t want to play.

  For the last hour his suspicions of the camp residents had mounted. When he had been here before these people had denied all knowledge of the girl; Joel Zachs they had admitted knowing, but had no information. They must have lied. With a wrench, Adam brought his attention back to the conversation, where the others had concluded that Eleanor must be down at Joe Hilbrick’s cabin.

  Adam no longer cared, but followed the directions down the path. A clatter of rocks drew his attention to the slope above, where a figure covered by a bulky coat and respirator and weighed down with a dusty pack recovered from a slip and trudged around the side of the mountain and out of sight. Poor slob had to slog through the rocks in the rad-shielded coat, fight to breathe through the respirator. For a fleeting moment Adam felt less angry about his own work.

  After an afternoon of following a trail of rumors twisted like a knot, Adam sat in the living room of Robert Jung, a large tanned man with short, straight black hair. Fresh flowers on the table lent a measure of grace to the small room. Jung worked as the local assayer. His wife, Nell, hadn’t come in from the rock yet.

  “Girl’s been a godsend. Don’t have to worry about the boy when she’s around, can finish my day and my work. Why the hell are you hassling her? Don’t you have real things to do back in town?”

  “I’m sorry sir, but we do need her back. If she’s innocent, she’ll be released.”

  The older man snorted. “Sure, we believe that. We haven’t forgotten how the government treats people it wants questioned, you know. Well, she’s not here yet. Must be running late helping out one of the others.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay here and wait for her.”

  Soon a small boy with curly hair came running into the house. He stopped when he saw Adam in the room, then turned to his father. “Poppa, where’s Eleanor? Did she bring me back something from her walk?”

  Adam sprung on the potential weak spot and leaned towards the boy. “What walk? Did you see her go somewhere?”

  The boy frowned at the stranger, but answered anyway. “Saw her in the hills during recess. Pretty far up, but I recognized her.”

  “Did you see her face?”

  The boy peered at him with all of the scorn and pity that a five-year-old can muster for a slow adult. He ignored the shushing gestures of his father. “Of course not. She had on her ‘pirator. But I know it was her. ‘sides, she had her pack. I saw it when she came to town.”

  The pack. That’s what had been so familiar about the figure on the hillside that morning. He glanced at his wrist unit. She had at least two hours start on him. He glared at Robert Jung, who answered his gaze with no sign of guilt or concern.

  “If I had time I’d…” Adam broke off. He didn’t have time and the man sitting across from him counted on it.

  He ran back to the flitter to call the sighting in. After an interminable wait, the call patched to deBaca.

  “She’s alive. And has the pack. She may still have whatever it is you want.”

  “Get her and the item. Don’t return without it if you want to keep your job.” Static filled the air as she cut the connection without notice.

  Adam hurled the receiver down on the floor. He jabbed the ignition button and the flitter rose, the one thing willing to cooperate with him. He swung around the northern border of the camp, perversely pleased at the gathered crowd of people who pointed his way.

  I should lay down a little fire, give them a taste of what interference in the SecDept’s business brings.

  But his satisfaction gave way to a sick feeling as the flitter choked, then sputtered and stalled. Adam managed to land, cursing himself all the while.

  He’d been so focused on getting the girl and getting back home he hadn’t thought about the direction she had gone. It would have to be on foot. Fine. He grabbed the emergency supply kit from under the seat and headed away from the crippled flitter, kicking up dust behind him as he went.

  The rocks skittered under Eleanor’s feet. She felt like she couldn’t get enough air, and the sweat under the seal made her face itch, but then she thought of Joel’s odd, mad poetry in the logbook and left the respirator in place.

  It had taken almost an hour to get over the ridge. She had fallen twice and both times threw her body up the slope in an effort not to plunge back. The way down the other side was less of a climb and more
of a controlled plummet. She checked with her hands to make sure the back of her pants had not shredded. Once at the bottom, she glanced the way she had come and frowned. Her track shone through the dusty red stones.

  No matter how she stepped, the stones slid and left a wide trail. Maybe he won’t get this far. Maybe they’ll keep him in camp until he gives up and goes home. Maybe the sky will rain fruit and no one will ever be hungry again. Keep going.

  She focused on speed, since stealth eluded her. Two hours after her descent from the ridge she hunted for the pile of rocks Jenna had mentioned. At three hours she panicked. She went back, nothing. Forward, nothing. Back again.

  Eleanor suppressed her rising terror, decided if she couldn’t find it and couldn’t go back, she’d have to go on. Decision made, she took a deep breath but gagged on the respirator. Around the curve from where she had given up, the small stack of stones waited for her.

  Without the marker she never would have found the ravine. A trick of the rock face hid the passageway. What appeared a continuous expanse of rock was revealed to be an optical illusion. She adjusted her pack, drank some water through the respirator’s tube and pressed on.

  The ravine zigged and zagged through the mountain. The sky shrank to a narrow slash and Eleanor ran, leapt over small reddish rocks in her way. If the guard hasn’t found me yet, he won’t.

  And instantly wished she hadn’t jinxed things. The silhouette of a large man blocked her way out into the clear.

  She fell in her haste to stop and scrambled on her hands and knees to run back the way she had come.

  “Girl, stop! It’s me.”

  She hesitated, turned back, not willing to believe her ears.

  But the doctor stood waiting for her, grim amusement glinted in his eyes, respirator tight against pale, newly shaven skin.

  “How did you. . .?” She couldn’t even finish the sentence as fatigue and relief flooded through her.

  His respirator muffled Frank’s short laugh. “Left camp when Jenna went to find you. Figured you’d come here, what with that map of Joel’s. Closest I could wait without giving your position away. Had half an hour lead easy. And you walk slow.”

  Eleanor let the jab pass her by without comment; more important things worried her. “But, why? Why are you here? Is he gone, can I come home?”

  Even without seeing his mouth, she could tell he no longer smiled. The crinkles by his eyes smoothed, became hard. “No, not yet. Pretty persistent, but you’re one of ours now. We’ll wait a bit longer.” He waved. “Come on, have something to show you.”

  He led her out of the rock passage. “Watch your step there. Path ends something sharp. Hate to tell Jenna I sent you right over the edge.”

  He guided her around the sharp drop off to the right, towards a narrow trail cut into the rock. Eleanor gasped as the sky opened up above her. Frank pointed to a rose-colored stone formation like a tall tower with a block shaped top, far away to the north.

  “About two, three valleys over. Keep heading for that so I’ll know where you’ve gone when it’s time to get you.”

  “Frank, why don’t you come with me? You can show me things and it’ll be safer and...”

  He raised his hand for her silence. “No. I know you’re scared. Fool not to be.” Eleanor shook her head, but he continued. “There are things happening here, on Claro, everywhere. I left it all behind. But maybe my brother was right, should have stayed and fought it, tried to change things.” He shook himself. “Doesn’t matter now. Look for that place on the map while you’re here. Joel pointed that tower stone out to me once, said if he didn’t come home, head that way.” He paused, thought for more words. “Stay out of sight, no matter what. People at home are doing their best to help. Don’t let them down. I’ll stay here and see what happens. If he finds the passage I’ll keep him from getting further.”

  He turned back to the ravine opening. “Go on.”

  Adam followed the girl’s trail, plain as the day’s failing light made the shadows long and picked out her path for him among the loose pink stones.

  Get the girl, get her pack, go back home. Get the girl, get her pack, go back home. His feet pounded in time with the mental litany. Anger made him faster and he swore to kill whoever had forgotten to replace the respirator when the emergency kit was repacked. It wouldn’t be too bad. Everyone knew the miners lied about the dangers of the mountains, made their work sound more difficult than it was. But the tiny knives slicing deeper into his airways undermined his confidence in that fact with each breath. He couldn’t go back without her. deBaca hadn’t been joking in her threat, and whatever the grey haired woman had to do with all of this, it couldn’t be good. He might not be in the service, but he wouldn’t fail, not now.

  Wrapped in his thoughts and pain, he almost missed the sudden change in the track. He stopped, shook himself and focused again.

  She had stopped, gone back. Went forward again. Adam frowned. Had such an obvious track been a stratagem to confuse and mislead him? He followed the trail until it led straight into the wall. False trail.

  He raged, screamed, kicked stones and threw rocks against where the trail disappeared. And watched as they passed out of sight.

  Adam traced back to the rock face where the trail ended, extended his arms and walked through the wall.

  Adam ran, harder now, oblivious as his jacket caught on the sharp outcroppings of the rock walls on either side that reached for him with slivered fingers of stone. He lost track of time, intent on the path in the faint light. Echoes of his steps pounded in his ears. He staggered once, aware his breathing sounded wet and when he pushed off the stone supporting him, the effort it took scared him.

  Lost in the running, the tracking, in his anger, he didn’t respond to the yells of the man standing at the end of the tunnel. He kept running, shoved with all his anger, pushed one more obstacle out of the way. One more thing between him and getting the girl, going home.

  He fell onto his knees as he broke out into the last light of the day. And the man’s body flew back with the force of impact, over the steep edge of a cliff, out of sight.

  A surprised face falling, accusing eyes meeting his. The image jolted Adam out of his trance.

  What have I done?

  Near the crest of the hill at the far edge of the valley, Eleanor worked her painstaking way toward the stone tower when she heard the scream. A crumpled form lay sprawled at the base of the cliff Frank had warned her about.

  A second person climbed down the cliff face. She crouched, low against the stones. If it was Frank, she could stand, wave, come home. But the knot in her stomach wouldn’t let her move.

  The second figure reached the first. A quick check of the body, a fist against the wall.

  Then the man reached down and took the respirator off the body and nestled it over his mouth and nose, wrapped the ends around the back of his neck.

  Frank had a respirator. He wouldn’t need someone else’s. Her hands covered her mouth, covered her own respirator, and stifled her scream. The figure jerked at her movement. His shoulders went back and he climbed back up to the path, back to where he could give chase through the gathering dark.

  When dawn came, she was too dazed to take note. Eleanor had stumbled through the night, crawled when she fell, and aimed for the tower outlined by the light of Ladril. She should stop, hide, rest, not risk staggering over a cliff edge. Falling like Frank.

  Her thoughts streamed like water burst out of a dam. Frank had known where to find her, but he couldn’t help her. Could Jenna find her in time? She worried the man would catch her. Or not catch her, but kill her, like Frank. That she’d fall like she did before, into the river. But this time there would be no Frank to rescue her.

  She crawled forward, unaware, uncaring of the trail she left behind her. The tower o
f stone filled her vision, her thoughts, her mind. The attack, when it came, caught her unaware.

  His hands around her throat, he shook her then flung her to the side. Something caught around her neck, pulled tight, snapped. A burst of pain as her head slammed into a sharp stone. When her vision cleared she recognized the eyes of the Guard who had chased her into the river over the top of the respirator. Frank’s respirator.

  “I’ve got you. I’ve finally got you. Why did you keep running? Don’t you know you can’t run? If you hadn’t run, this would be over, we’d be done, and I’d be home. But no, you had to run. This is all your fault. His death. All of it. Your fault!”

  Her sluggish thoughts pushed through the man’s words as they receded. Frank. Eleanor kicked against the man who raved above her. If I hadn’t come to the camp, he wouldn’t be dead. But if that man hadn’t come here, Frank wouldn’t be dead. That man came here because I came here. I came here because he chased me.

  Another blow to the side of the head stunned her. The man pulled her up into a sitting position and quick-tied her ankles and wrists in front of her. Her pack jutted into her spine, but she couldn’t gather the strength to care.

  The man sat across from her, rummaged in his kit and ate a food bar. When he adjusted his respirator (Frank’s respirator, her mind shrilled) she noticed dark red speckles around his mouth. Coughing blood. Wonder if he’ll make it out alive.

  He talked about people and things she didn’t know and needed no response from her. She let the words wash over without touching her.