Land of the Hoosier Dawn (Events From The Hoosier Dawn Book 1)
Page 8
It took him a minute to get the brackets to work right, but when he did, he was able to get his flashlight to fit inside them. Even with the brackets closed, it was still loose inside of them. When he walked with it on his head, the light wobbled and made looking in front of him harder. He decided to take it off and hold it. He put the hard hat back on and thought, If it was good enough to protect them as they worked, then it’s good enough to protect us while we explore.
Just as Rush told them earlier, the mine let off the slight smell of some sort of gas. But it was a weak smell, so he assumed that it was probably safe. Besides, what if it wasn’t even a gas at all. I have no idea what natural gas smells like, or if it even has a smell. For all I know, there could be some dead shit down here, Joe thought.
Dean and Noah were busy pulling away all the scattered loose rock and brush when they came across a branch that could have easily passed for a small tree. It seemed to be the key to all the other rock and dead brush around. It was sticking out of a muddy clay area, so all three boys lined up and pulled it at the same time. It budged a little, but they had to keep letting go and then pulling it again to try to rock it loose from the clay-like, muddy surface. It only took them seven tries, but once they got it to break loose, all the other debris came with it. When they pulled it far enough away, the opening gaped wide.
But with every great triumph comes unexpected dissatisfaction. Removing the tree broke the seal of the water line, and the pit water started draining directly down into the hole. Mark was closest, so he jumped across the streaming water so he could warn Joe.
“Joe! Joe! The water’s flooding in! Joe! Can you hear me?” Mark said.
Joe received message loud and clear before he ever heard Mark. When the repulsive water poured in and covered his feet, he jumped onto a rock protruding from the wall.. The flow of the water was immense, and the only thing he could think was, Great! Now that godawful water is going to flood our cave and there won’t be no exploring today!
“I heard you. I’m fine. Can you guys plug it?” Joe said.
Mark could barely see Joe, but he gave him a thumbs-up sign. “We’re gonna try. Just hang on.”
Joe looked down at the nasty flow of water and spoke in a low tone only audible to himself. “I don’t think I have anywhere else to go.”
Dean and Noah quickly started pulling the large branch back over with all the rock and brush attached to it, but the water kept getting in their way. They heaved it harder and harder, but every time they moved it further into the stream, the nasty pit water kept covering them. Mark got some in his eyes and it burned, but he just kept on tugging at the mess of debris.
Noah could taste it on his lip and even feel the slimy sensation on his arms and legs from where the water had doused him. They were finally able to get the mess of sticks and mud back into place, but not before the mine shaft filled with water.
The shaft itself pointed downward, so gravity naturally allowed most of the water to travel away from Joe. When they sealed the entrance, the opening that he came in was even smaller.
“You guys are just gonna have to leave it like that. Dean, I know you don’t like tight spaces, but once you get inside there’s plenty of room and nothing to worry about.”
Dean wiped the slimy soot and water away from his face and he tried to spit the water off his lips. Even though he was deathly afraid of tight spaces, he really wanted to get in there and explore the area.
“Aw, shit! Just let me go first!” Dean said and cleared the path so he could crawl through the entrance. He stuck his feet in first, and when he could feel the opening closing in around his belly, he closed his eyes and hustled through.
Even once he got all the way through, his mind and body were still stricken with panic and it took him several minutes to calm down. Mark was the second one through and he immediately went to Dean, who was keeled over and breathing erratically.
“It’s okay, Bub. We’re through. No more tight spaces.” Mark said, patting Dean’s back.
Dean stood straight up and took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m okay.”
Noah made his way through the opening feet first.
“Holy shit! This is awesome!” Noah said.
He went for the storage locker and tried to open it. It was locked, so they hunted for something to pry it open with. It didn’t take long until they found a tool crib that was empty except for some rusty pipe wrenches, a broken drill and a corral of rusty rebar. They all grabbed a rebar rod and started beating on the storage locker until Joe stopped them.
“Wait, guys. These aren’t gonna get this thing open. We’ll have to jimmy our sticks into it and pry it open,” Joe said.
He stuck his rebar rod through a hole near the lock and they all started pushing down. After several attempts, they stopped to rest. Mark took the rebar rod out and put it through a hole near the top of the locker and pried it from there. He started with all of his might, but that was a mistake. The locker flew open and Mark flew into the wall. The lock was reinforced at that point, and it took very little force to remove this section, as long as you were prying it from the right spot.
When they got the storage locker open, they found it full of useless junk. Leftover personal protective equipment that probably wasn’t even supplied before the union came in. Old hard hats with headgear for lights, safety goggles, ear plugs, ventilation masks with utility-grade dust and gas filters attached to them.
They didn’t waste a second pulling them out and trying them all on. They could all smell the odd odor and they knew it could be a combustible or dangerous gas, given that all their families had at one time worked in the coal mines and had told them stories about the dangers of working underground.
Mark pulled the goggles out and put them on. The other boys were already outfitting their hard hats, and Noah got his flashlight to fit perfectly in the brackets over his head. They all pulled out the respirators and turned the filters clockwise to tighten them, and then put the masks over their faces. The nice thing about those was that they would usually last a lifetime if unused. When they pulled the masks over their faces, they could all breathe perfectly and could no longer smell the pungent odor of the mineshaft.
Joe pointed the flashlight at his eyes and did his best Darth Vader impression.
“It is pointless to resist, my son. The emperor is too strong!” Joe said, holding his arm up and making a fist.
The boys all laughed and realized that they could hear each other just fine with the masks on, except Mark, of course. Mark had already fitted his ears with earplugs.
Dean pulled his earplugs out and handed Mark a flashlight. “Here, keep this on you and keep those plugs out of your ears. The last thing you need is to end up at a Louisville hospital taxied by a helicopter.”
“Huh?” Mark asked. Joe and Noah were also perplexed by the statement.
“Don’t you remember what happened to those boys who swam in the channel? They went into the hospital with ear infections. They had to be flown by helicopter to a Louisville hospital. That’s why I say we keep these out of our ears,” Dean said.
(the river will hide your bodies)
Mark took a look at the earplugs in his hand and threw them away like he was holding a dead rat.
Joe shined his flashlight down the shaft the water had poured into, but they could only see so far due to the steep grade. The descending shaft was a much smaller space than the area where they stood. It was originally built only for the coal belt line and for utility workers to perform maintenance on them. The belt line was gone, but the tracks were still bolted into the rock floor.
“You guys ready to see what’s down there?” Joe said.
They all put on their gas masks and rotated the filters so they could start breathing in them. They wore their hard hats, and Mark also had his goggles on.
“Your idea. You lead the way,” Dean said to Joe.
Joe turned around and the boys started their descent.
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9
The Brownsman crew was busy smoking pot on the bed of Mike’s truck with the fire in front of them and Mark’s radio blaring out new music from Pearl Jam when the sky started to turn gray.
(Evenflow)
Rush had gotten Mark’s mixed tape out of the recorder and repaired the head bearings before he started toking on the joint. He had even recorded the Pearl Jam song for Mark and his friends to enjoy later on. He liked those boys and he felt sorry for Mark and Dean, for all they had gone through this year. He wanted to be that person who had done something nice for them, for a change.
Kurt Peters puffed on the joint and nudged Rush to take it from him. “So do you think those boys are discovering anything new in there?” Kurt said.
Rush puffed the joint and passed it over to Mike.
“Do you remember when we went in that shaft on the TC end?” Rush asked. They all laughed.
“Yeah, I remember you freaking out and saying you smelled gas,” Mike said between drags on the joint. He passed it back to Kate Liddel, who was sitting behind Mike with her legs wrapped around him. Mike gave Kurt a playful smack on the head while Kate took a couple of hits off the joint.
Carrie was listening quietly and growing more and more worried about the boys. She knew Noah and Joe had parents who cared about them and would know to come looking for them. But Dean and Mark did not have that, and she felt responsible for making sure they were safe.
“Hey, you guys. I’m a little worried about the boys. I mean, if you guys smelled gas in there, couldn’t that make them sick? Or maybe even cause them to pass out and possibly die from the exposure?” Carrie said.
Mike laughed, reached over and shook her shoulder playfully.
“Don’t worry, Mom! That wasn’t gas we were smelling in there. It was decomp,” Mike said.
“What do you mean . . . decomp?”
Rush reached over and put his arm around Carrie, smiling like the joke was on her. “Decomp, baby. Dead things. The smell of them rotting away. There were bound to be all kinds of animals that went down there and died. The smell is just nature’s way of confirming it has repossessed the body.”
Carrie stayed quiet, but pulled her legs up to her chin and silently worried about them.
The sky was darkening and they could see lightning in the distance, but they couldn’t hear any thunder. Everyone quieted down, and all they could hear was the radio.
The music played and the joint became a roach. There was no thunder and no rain, but they all knew it was just a matter of time.
The air started to thin out and the temperature was dropping. Carrie could smell the putrid stench of the river, the smell that only came when there was rain somewhere over its long stretch. It was the smell of fish, fish that had been out of the water for too long and were starting dry up and stink. That was the first odor that always went through the air there in southern Indiana after a rain. The odor told them that even though the rain wasn’t falling on them, it was falling somewhere and the harder it rained somewhere, the more intense the smell.
Even though it was getting darker, they could still see along the horizon where the river lay. A tall man with long black hair was walking along it, dragging something that looked like a long roll of carpet, but he was too far away to tell for sure.
“Oh, shit! Someone’s docked and walking up from the river!” Kurt said.
They all rushed to collect their stuff and quickly loaded it in the truck. Rush, Carrie and Kate all crammed in the front seat of Mike’s truck. Kurt stomped the fire out, hopped in the bed of the truck and sat down on a spare tire.
Mike fired up his large muddy beast and made tracks, pulling out of the area back toward Highway 66 through the brush and mud trails.
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10
The area sat silent for several minutes until Shane Duncan Siders walked up, dragging a gigantic knapsack that held a 32-year-old Louisville woman in it. Her life was cut short that morning before daybreak, when Shane strangled her to death and beat her lifeless body with a leather strap. When he got to the area beside the highwall, he saw the smoldering fire and reached down to feel its waning warmth. He stood up and looked in the direction the truck had gone. His face filled with anger and for a moment, he considered staying there and hiding just in case they came back.
Siders had been dumping bodies in the old mine shaft for several years now, trading them to the Jeffries who came down and collected them on the northeast end of town. The mine shafts were the perfect cover for getting dead bodies across Fogstow. He would drag them down there, at the southern entrance, which was mostly hidden under cover of the sinkhole.
His family originated in Gallatin County, Illinois, but Shane and his father spent their whole lives on the river, living in their houseboat. Shane’s mother opposed this idea when Shane was young and insisted on him getting a formal education and establishing roots in the county.
Bill Siders was a tall and demanding man. He had taken in Moira Duncan after her parents had sold her off to him to settle debts, and after years of sexual abuse on the houseboat, she became pregnant with Shane at the age of nineteen. They moved into a river cottage for a little more than six years, until Shane was old enough to live on the river.
Moira cared for Shane in the cottage while her de Facto husband puttered up and down the river, making money any way he could and doing just about anything he wanted. When he came back for his family, taking Moira with him was not really at the top of his list. The last thing he needed was a damn woman to interfere with his disposition to teach his son how to be a man and live off the river. She’d already given him two last names, and that was just outrageous!
The last time he came home to their cottage, Moira stood in his way when he tried to collect young Shane and said she would never allow it. She would call the Sheriff if he tried. That enraged Bill and he picked her up by the throat with his massive hands and walked around the cottage with her suspended in the air. She clutched to his powerful wrists and struggled to breathe.
Did you really think I was just going to let you have your way with my boy? You’re nothing but a river whore. A convenience for me at the time, and now, your purpose has been served!
Bill had slammed her against the wall three times. Shane counted each time, the breathless memory searing into his young brain. His mother’s eyes filled with fluid and the redness quickly set in. Her face turned a pale purple and within a minute, Moira Duncan was dead.
Bill forced Shane to dig the hole that would eventually entomb his mother. Shane felt an emptiness, but he did not know the feeling of grief or loss. His father had always told him that weakness in this world would get him killed. Only the strong survive, and if you are not the strongest, you’re the deadest.
That scared young Shane in the beginning, but before long, he wouldn’t even feel fear anymore. The only thing he needed was a boat and a river. The rest would be easy pickings, just as his father showed him.
It wasn’t until his sixteenth year that he finally decided to kill his father. The old man had wound down and could not keep up with him on their journey. He constantly had to nurse him back to health for some reason or another. They had never visited a doctor, and Bill Siders’ liver was failing. They spent a lot of time docked on the north side of Derbie, in a quiet and secluded cove.
Shane had passed the time doing what he loved to do: swimming. He had swam in the Ohio River all his life, even when they were moving. He would just tie off on a rope, connect it to the exterior wall of the cabin and jump straight over the back into the river. He would let the boat drag him along most of the time and when they were stopped, he’d swim clear across the gigantic river and shore up in Kentucky. Sometimes he would hunt down squirrels or even steal a few pigs, but most of the time he just wanted to be away from his father and the miserable moans of a dying man.
One day when Shane re-boarded, he found his father sleeping on the cot and decided that was the best time to end him. J
ust like his father had ended his mother so long ago. Shane remembered everything about that night, including burying his mother just before they left that cottage. The authorities never found her, though, and there was never an investigation into a woman who was never reported missing to start with. She may as well had already been a ghost years before she died.
Shane grabbed the paring knife they used to gut fish and approached his father’s unconscious body. He looked pale and fragile lying there. Shane imagined that if his father were awake at that very moment, he would have looked into Shane’s eyes and said, Only the strong survive. And that was all it took. Without a moment’s regret nor any second thoughts, Shane rammed the paring knife into his father’s throat, upward so it would penetrate his mouth as well. He did it once, twice, three times. His father barely came awake, but his body contorted and convulsed as Shane rammed the knife into his chest once, twice, three times. He stopped to gauge his father’s reaction. The old man slowly stretched longways on the cot and it seemed almost like he was reaching for something. Maybe a ghostly figure stood in front of him and he thought he would be saved. This intrigued Shane, so he walked to the front of cot and stood directly in the path of what his father was reaching for. He smiled. He stuck the paring knife into his father’s left eye once, twice, three times and pulled it out and stuck it into his right eye once, twice and three times.
That was the end of Bill Siders and the true birth of Shane Duncan Siders. He felt as though he had been searching his whole life for a more defining purpose, and now he had finally found it. This location was the most sacred to him. It was where he was born, where he became self-aware, and, most importantly, it was where he came home. It was where he would later dock and dispose of his trophies, and it was also where he met the young lady whom he chose to impregnate rather than kill.
Shane had killed so many people in his life traveling up and down the Ohio River that he couldn’t keep count. He’d choke the life out of most. In the beginning he would dump them in the river, but then he started bringing them aboard his houseboat and dumping them in these old mine shafts. After he’d get them in the shaft, he would drag them down the tunnel until he reached the water and then float them across to the northeast end. The Jeffries would later pick them up and leave their loot behind as payment.