Scorched

by Britt Ringel

  Her right hand flew to the Battery 1 and 2 switches while her left hand reached behind her to flip the NAVRAN switch. Next came both fuel pumps while her right hand opened the APU cutoff valve. Kat looked anxiously out her open door. The dump truck weaved a crooked line between the railcars, bearing down toward the flatbed and its wide-eyed driver was smashing his horn again and again. She pressed the APU start button and released the turbine brake with a simple motion. She opened the engine shutoff valve, skipping its governor, and pressed and held the engine start button. “Come on, come on,” she urged as the turbine RPMs slowly cycled up.

  The needle on the tachometer touched thirty percent and continued to climb lethargically. Forty percent, fifty percent… Finally, at sixty percent, the entire cab shuddered and the turbines rumbled an angry, full-throated growl. The needle shot up to eighty-five percent and hovered as the dump truck’s horn continued its wail.

  Kat slammed open the throttle while twisting its top to vector the vehicle’s thrust downward. The flatbed shot into the air. She pressed a pedal under her left foot to yaw to the left. A few seconds later, she watched the coal-covered dump truck roll under her to the clearing beyond. It was still moving at a hazardous rate but the steeper incline ahead would gradually stop the truck safely. She scanned the ground farther from her position and saw dozens of people running in her direction. The entire mining site sprawled under her flatbed.

  Kat’s heart jumped into her throat at the view. What am I doing? A bout of vertigo washed over her as her actions took hold. Don’t panic, Kat. You can land it. Just cancel out your yaw and ease back on the throttle. She pulled the throttle back until the vehicle started a slow descent. The word “Gumps” flickered through her mind but held no meaning. She kept the throttle steady until her hand subconsciously gave it a push forward right before contact with the ground. The flatbed settled back to the earth with a gentle bump. Her heart was pounding and she felt dizzy as she tried to catch her breath.

  A man jumped onto the driver’s step and reached for her through the open door. “I can take it from here,” the worker shouted over the turbine’s whine while holding out his hand.

  She accepted it and allowed herself to be pulled from the cockpit and lowered to the ground. When she had her feet underneath her, she stepped away from the idling vehicle, hugging herself and shivering. What were you thinking? How did you do that?

  “What the hell did you think you were doing!” exclaimed Sadler as he ran up and wrapped an arm around her protectively. “That truck would’ve crushed the flatbed like an eggshell!”

  Where did I learn how to fly? Kat wondered, looking past the VTOL craft. The dump truck now rested halfway up a hill and its operator was raising the hood. She suddenly realized someone was talking to her.

  “Kat!” Sadler moved his hand to her shoulder and lightly shook her. She continued to shiver.

  Sadler placed both hands on her and jerked her more insistently. “Kat, look at me. Focus. Are you okay?”

  The blurry image of Sadler’s face came into Kat’s view. His green eyes held so much concern. “I’m fine,” she answered, more to put him at ease than believing she really was.

  He stooped slightly so they were at perfect eye level and gave her an earnest look. “Kat, that was so dangerous. None of this equipment is worth you getting hurt over. We’ve already had too many accidents lately.” He pursed his lips as he hesitated. “I, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  The flatbed’s turbines were winding down. The pilot poked his head out of the cockpit and shouted, “It looks fine. She didn’t damage it.”

  Sadler gave the man a quick wave and rewrapped his arm around Kat’s shoulders. “Where did you learn to fly?”

  Kat sank into the security of his embrace and she sensed it was the safest she had ever felt. More than anything, she wanted to hold the hand squeezing her shoulder. How would he react? Does he even realize what he’s doing to me?

  “Kat, where did you learn to fly?”

  She opened her mouth but realized she didn’t have an answer. “Can I sit down for a minute? Maybe have some water?”

  Twenty minutes later, she was on a bench in the miner’s courtyard with a cup in her hand. Sadler sat closely next to her. On the other side of the table, Daniel Lambert stared as a Porter accident investigator beside him tapped on the surface of his handheld.

  The investigator looked over the screen and summarized, “So, you realized that the truck wouldn’t stop in time before striking the flatbed but that it was moving slowly enough for you to safely fly the vehicle out of its path. You started the engine, lifted off, let the truck pass underneath you and then landed. Mr. Talbot then jumped onto the flatbed and exchanged positions with you to finish the shutdown sequence. Assistant Foreman Wess escorted you to safety.” He looked up. “Is that correct to your best recollection?”

  Kat took another sip from her cup. “Yes.” She swept her left hand back to remove stray strands of hair covering her eyes and looked skyward. Clouds were rolling in and the wind was picking up. It would rain tonight.

  The man swiped his hand across his screen. “Okay. Thank you for your account, Ms. Smith.” He turned to Lambert and said, “I want to interview Talbot and then the truck driver last.”

  “He said it was the brakes,” Lambert stated.

  “Sounds like it but I need his version and then I’ll need one of the mechanics to look over the truck.”

  “I can get one,” Sadler said.

  “Not your job,” Lambert snapped irritably. “I’ll get one but it’s a waste of time. Brake lines fail, especially when they’re used to stop a forty-ton truck hauling a full load of coal.”

  The investigator looked at Kat. “We’re finished, Ms. Smith. You can return to work.”

  Kat thanked the man, grateful the subject of her newfound aviation skills had not come up. She collected her hardhat and rose from the table.

  “I’ll walk you back,” Sadler offered.

  The pair walked in silence as they crossed the compound. Kat stopped abruptly and turned back toward the tracks. “I left my dryman’s pack at the equipment trailer.”

  “Deke’s got it,” Sadler said. “I told him to fill in during your interview.”

  They stepped into the mine and entered an elevator car. The cars were some of the quietest places on the entire site. Kat stood next to Sadler, very aware how close she was to him.

  “Kat,” Sadler said. His deep voice saying her name always sent a jolt through her. “Where did you learn to fly?”

  “I’m not sure,” she answered after a prolonged silence.

  “What do you mean?”

  She searched his eyes. Looking into them, it was easy to forget about her torment beginning that first night in Shantytown. She had reveled in the security of his arms, the compassion in his face. His mere presence made her feel stronger and she wanted their elevator ride to never end. “I don’t know what to say,” she confessed. “I don’t want to lose my job or the people I’ve met because of what I’ve done.”

  “You’re not going to lose your job,” Sadler insisted. “You just saved the company over a hundred thousand credits in damages.” He waited for an answer.

  The noise from the mine below grew louder. They were approaching the end of the shaft.

  “Well,” Sadler said when Kat remained silent. The disappointment in his voice tore at her heart. “I wish you trusted me enough to answer but I can’t force one out of you.”

  Stress caused Kat’s raw emotions to boil over. “What difference does it make?” she snapped angrily. She had no explanation to offer him and it was infuriating. “Maybe I was lucky and just hit the buttons in the right order or maybe I’m the goddamned inventor of VTOL flight! What difference does it make now?” She clenched her jaw and ground her teeth.

  The elevator car shuddered to a stop. Kat slammed down her mask and slid open the cage. Sadler was reaching for her but she deftly avoided his grasp and stomped down the tu
nnel.

  Once she turned a corner, she risked a look back and grew despondent. He had not followed her. She tilted her mask up enough to slip a hand under it to wipe at her eyes. Fantastic, Kat. You idiot. Well, at least you know you weren’t a relationship counselor in your previous life. She shook her head and forced a melancholic smile. Come on, stupid. Only a couple more hours until quitting time.

  Chapter 18

  Wednesday evening saw a veritable deluge from the skies. Kat spent most of the night shivering under a makeshift roof of trash in her alley. Thursday at the mine passed mercifully without incident despite her exhaustion. Kat again pulled double-duty as dryman for both Spur Twenty-eight and Twenty-nine and the intense schedule made the work hours rocket by. Unlike the day before, she was able to sneak away for a five-minute lunch where she wolfed down her food with unrestrained gusto.

  The hectic workday also helped Kat ignore the stares from miners on other crews. Between the infamy of her confrontation with Lambert and her heroics with the flatbed, Reece confided to her on the mag-rail ride home Thursday night that a mystique was building around her reputation. Exactly what that reputation was, harlot or hero, Kat was unsure. She was simply grateful the extended duties forced her to focus solely on her job. One thing was clear though. She had certainly made no friends beyond her immediate crew. The other miners avoided her, whether out of deference or disgust.

  Even Sadler had disappeared. She had looked for him early in the morning at the courtyard but he had never appeared from the trailers most frequented by the foremen. Thursday had been far too packed to glance coyly for him among the tables and inside the mine. Her entire shift had revolved around the thirty-one sections of conveyor belts that had become her responsibility. The laborers on Spur Twenty-eight’s crew had largely kept their gear in order but Kat was unsure if they were trying to help her or simply didn’t want her around. Of course, Shannon, Deke and Reece helped as much as possible to keep their own spur organized.

  By the end of Thursday’s shift, Kat was light-headed from dehydration despite drinking from every water tank she saw. The evening’s ritual head-dunk into her trailer’s washing trough elicited one of the most reinvigorating feelings of her life.

  Away from the mines, life in Shantytown had condensed into fast shopping trips for food and the commutes to and from Eastpoint. Worn out each night from the extra duty, Kat had not found time to clear a new sleeping space farther from the alley’s mouth. Yet, even with the specter of danger looming in the main street and despite her unexplainable, unnerving actions in the flatbed earlier in the week, she slept like the dead.

  Friday morning, Kat nearly overslept. The week’s physical exertion was making it harder and harder to rouse herself from slumber. Only Rat’s hacking cough kept her from missing the bus at Eastpoint. As she rode the mag-rail to the mountains, she added an alarm clock to her mental shopping list. It would be terribly expensive and a highly coveted item but she could no longer trust herself to wake up early naturally. Since she had first opened her eyes in that unknown alley less than two weeks ago, she had slept mostly in fits and bursts. That was changing. During the last two nights, no thought or noise could have woken her under the blanket of the dark.

  Upon reaching the mine, Kat walked with the rest of the day shift to the trailers. Though surrounded by fellow workers, no one spoke to her and she felt strangely alone. She pulled her gear over her regular clothes and exited shortly afterwards to head for her crew’s table. Her thoughts were focused squarely on another hard day’s work when she realized someone was walking beside her.

  “Hey,” Sadler said shyly, just centimeters from her. He slipped his hand to her elbow and gently guided her to a stop. A self-effacing expression took hold over him as he tried to keep eye contact. “Still friends?” he asked.

  Kat found the awkward peace offering endearing. Thrilled with it and his sudden appearance, she desperately fought the urge to grin. “Of course,” she replied casually. Heat rose to her cheeks and she looked away before admitting, “I, uh, was looking for you yesterday morning. I wanted to say—”

  Sadler brought up a hand and addressed her with sincere eyes. “No, you don’t have to say anything, Kat. I want to know all about you but not until you’re ready. Okay? I shouldn’t have pushed it. I’m sorry.”

  The heartfelt apology made her want to gush. “I do trust you, Sadler,” she said quickly. “It’s just… scary.” She thought of Doctor Reynolds. Afraid for me. Afraid of me. “My past has pushed someone away before and I’m not sure how much I could explain about it anyway.”

  Sadler shook his head. “You don’t owe me any explanation.” A new voice called for him from the courtyard. He looked over Kat’s shoulder and nodded. “I’ve got to go but I wanted to talk to you this morning. I missed you yesterday. Be safe, okay?”

  He missed me! Kat nodded with a brilliant smile. “Will do, boss.”

  Sadler released his light hold and walked toward the miner waving to him. She rolled her eyes derisively as she replayed her parting words. Will do, boss? Boss? Kat, you might have once been a pilot but you are most certainly still an idiot.

  Tick waved from the crew’s table, beckoning Kat forward. She shook herself a final time and moved to start what promised to be another demanding day.

  Lambert gave the morning briefing. The production goals had been increased for the week by Phillip Porter himself. The foreman droned on about financial indicators and Porter Mining Enterprises needing an impressive number to help raise its stock.

  The pressure to work harder was tangible. During the first half of the shift, Kat noticed a marked increase in the rounds Lambert and his assistants made and the intense scrutiny of their visits. Twice, Kat caught Lambert inspecting her work as she raced to keep the conveyor systems of both spurs running.

  She did the best she could. The grinder operators in Spurs Twenty-eight and Twenty-nine couldn’t coordinate their needs and Kat had to inspect the conveyor sections nearest each machine dozens of times each hour. To her horror, Lambert reprimanded her after inspecting a section in Spur Twenty-eight that she had been unable to clean immediately following a grinding pass. The scolding stung not only because of Lambert’s crude, callous demeanor but also because he had been right to point out her deficiency. Kat asked when Twenty-eight’s dryman position would be filled and the foreman suggested it could be as early as Monday. The news buoyed her spirits. She only had to get through the afternoon and she would be back to only working Spur Twenty-nine.

  Kat skipped lunch to clean the long-neglected sections of each conveyor near the main tunnel. The equipment farther away from the grinding machines naturally accumulated coal dust at a much slower rate. She had ignored the last four sections in each spur during the final hour of the morning in an attempt to keep the deeper, dirtier sections operational.

  From underneath Conveyor 5-A in Spur Twenty-nine, Kat positioned her nozzle behind a series of gears and shot bursts of compressed air with surgical precision. The black film over the metal blew away and she followed with a judicious spray of suppressant. She could tell by how little the nozzle head bucked that she was running low of the fluid. Both George and Twenty-eight’s operator had pushed their grinders hard during the morning, attempting to meet the new production quota.

  Kat crawled down 5-A’s length to the opposite end and used her remaining suppressant to finish the section. Damn, she cursed to herself as she stood in the narrow spur. I’m going to have to run up to the surface and refill. More time wasted. She trotted toward the main tunnel, nearly tripping over a rat that scurried from underneath the last conveyor in the spur.

  As she began to turn the corner at the main tunnel, her eyes caught a man kneeling halfway under a conveyor section in Spur Twenty-eight. She tried to identify him but failed. After the first hour’s work each day in the mine, everyone looked the same. The man pushed himself from under the section, revealing reflective strips on his coveralls that she had only seen on one pe
rson. The strips were enough for Kat. It’s Lambert. She pushed herself into a jog toward the elevator car at the end of the tunnel. I don’t need to have another five minutes wasted while he chews my ass for whatever he’s found, she thought irritably.

  It took ten minutes for the maintenance worker at the equipment trailer to refill her dryman’s pack. By the time she was returning to the mine’s entrance, the other miners were finishing lunch. She rode down in silence with a group of five miners she didn’t recognize. Their chatter as they approached the elevator suggested they knew each other well but the banter had stopped when they entered the car and spied Kat’s black-smudged face under her raised miner’s mask. When the safety cage opened at the bottom of the mine, Kat wordlessly left the group behind at a jog, anxious to finish cleaning her spurs before the grinders started back up.

  She finished Spur Twenty-nine before the familiar rumbles and vibrations of working grinders filled the mine. Knowing the conveyor sections closest to the grinders were clean, she walked the short distance to the end section in Spur Twenty-eight to crawl under the rattling, clamoring machinery. I can clean one, maybe two sections here before rushing forward to work near the grinders, she told herself.

  The intensity of the tremors in the spur increased as large, metallic teeth chewed the front coal wall farther down the tunnel. The bouncing conveyor stirred the coal riding on top, creating a constant cloud of black tendrils that drifted down from the belt like a mournful mist.

  Kat contorted her body to reach behind a return idler when the loud whining of the conveyor system escalated into a piercing screech. She looked up at the belt zooming only centimeters overhead in near panic as the screeching transformed into a harrowing wail. Kat kicked her legs out to push her body from under the section. The entire frame shuddered violently and the master plane of the section became skewed.

  Kat continued to slide backwards on her bottom, digging her boots into the mine floor. She looked to her left, deeper into the spur. The next conveyor section was spewing a thick, white cloud of smoke. Sparks flew from under the belting and the section’s transition idler glowed an alarming red.