Winslow- The Lost Hunters

by David Francis Curran

The timbers were old but looked solid to Billy from a dozen feet back. Cassie stepped up on the lip of the frame and looked down.

  “There’s water running below. It is going in the same direction as this tunnel,” she said, and then turned to step off the lip of the frame.

  Just then the wood beneath Cassie’s feet gave off a loud sound like many sticks breaking at once. And the thick-looking timber that formed the lip frame caved inward. To Billy, it seemed like Cassie hung in the air for a second and then sank instantly.

  “Cassie!” Billy cried and rushed forward.

  Light now came from a hole in the floor of the tunnel. Billy looked down. The portion of the frame Cassie had been standing on had collapsed. Cassie was just below the lip of the 4 x 4 foot hole hanging on by a jutting rock where the lip had been with her right hand and part of a beam with her left.

  Cassie looked up, and the light from her headlight shone directly in his eyes blinding him. “Help me,” she cried.

  The sound of rushing water was very clear beneath her.

  “Help me.”

  The headlight was blinding him. He reached out and took it from her head.

  “What are you doing,” she cried.

  “I need to see what I’m doing,” Billy said as he slipped the head light on his own head. He looked down. Cassie’s situation did not look good. Far below, almost forty feet Billy guessed, the water was running at a fast pace in the direction they had been headed.

  Cassie looked down. She saw the water and an even more fearful look crossed her face. “I can’t swim very well. Billy, don’t let me fall down there.”

  Billy realized he could just not do anything. At any moment Cassie would fall. She’d never know he’d hesitated to help her.

  “Billy!” she cried.

  Billy, without even completely realizing what he was doing, lay down on the floor of the tunnel with only his shoulders over the hole. He reached in and with his left hand grabbed the wrist of the hand she was holding the rock with.

  “Don’t let go until I tell you,” he said.

  Cassie looked down again. Then she looked back up at the blinding headlight, her voice pleading. “Billy, I’m afraid. Please don’t let me fall.”

  Billy reached out and grabbed Cassie’s left wrist. He was adjusting his grip when her right hand slipped off the rock. With the sudden movement, gravity pulled Cassie out of his hands. He watched as she fell. A scream escaped her lips before she hit the water. She was screaming his name.

  Billy watched the water envelope Cassie and sweep her away. He didn’t even think about it. He swung his body around and dropped down the shaft feet first.

  Swimming in Darkness

  October 30: 2:38 p.m.

  As Billy fell, he threw his hands up over the headlight to protect it. As he hit the water, the headlight flew off his head, but his hands still held the straps. His feet never touched bottom as his head went under. He came up quickly in the fast-moving water. He set the headlamp back on his head while fighting to stay above the surface, and glanced at a much wider tunnel than the one he fell from, paralleling the one above. He saw a form that seemed to be thrashing about thirty feet ahead of him. It had to be Cassie. She seemed to be moving at the same pace he was. He began swimming, keeping his head above water, lifeguard style, with everything he had.

  Billy reached Cassie in less than a minute, but the instant he grabbed her she turned and in her panic grabbed his arms and pulled him under. He could see her face in the light from the headlight. Her eyes were wide with fear.

  His lifeguard training came back to him, and he broke her hold on him by making a church steeple with his arms and thrusting them up between hers. He immediately swung her around, put an arm across her chest and lifted her head from the water while he swam on his side.

  Cassie was choking, and Billy knew she could drown from inhaled water. He had to get her out. But the dark water of the tunnel kept swinging around slow curves with no sign of stopping.

  Then, to his joy, she started breathing rather than choking. It seemed like he’d been carrying her for a long time when the stone roof ahead opened up into darkness.

  A moment later Billy saw they were entering the bottom of another large chasm-like chamber. The tunnel widened, and the floor came up as the water spread out across a wider area. Billy’s feet found purchase and putting his other arm around her, he carried Cassie to higher ground.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “I think so,” she said. She looked at him. “You saved me.” Almost instantly she started choking again.

  “Get it all out,” Billy said, patting her on the back. He knew patting her back wasn’t going to help, but at least he could show concern.

  When she finally was breathing normally again, he sat down next to her and emptied the sticks he’d gathered from the entryway before he left from his pockets. The sticks were too wet now to burn, but they might be okay by morning.

  Of the sleeping bag boots she had made them, one of his was still on his foot. It was soaked and cold, and he slipped it off. Both of hers were missing.

  “I think we should take a well-earned rest for now,” he said.

  When she didn’t answer, he turned to her. She was snoring.

  A Parabolic Advantage

  Halloween: 11 a.m.

  Nate Hanassey reached a spot in the mine where the three tunnels branched. He was out of breath and very angry. He'd seen no sign of Billy Wesley’s Ford Explorer outside. Although the winch was by the entrance, he had no idea if Billy was somewhere in the mine.

  Finding the grate closed and Billy's winch working gave Nate hope that he'd find at least the girl and possibly Billy, too, inside the mine.

  A dead-end passage he explored off the main entry showed definite sign that at least two people had been using it as a latrine area for a few days.

  The chamber he discovered next had looked like a damn picnic area. There were empty water bottles, full water bottles, the remains of a campfire, and a cut-up sleeping bag.

  He’d put his bare hand in the ashes of the campfire. Not only were the ashes still warm, but he’d burned his finger on a still hot coal. A minute later Nate discovered the narrow passageway. After assuring himself that that was the only way someone could have gone, he pointed the parabolic microphone at the tunnel. He was already wearing the earphones that came with it. The only thing he could make out was the sound of air moving through the tunnel.

  Until Nate reached the three forks, there had been no other way for anyone to go. He was glad he had the headlight as he could keep his hands free while he adjusted the parabolic microphone. His shotgun was propped against the tunnel wall. Starting at the right-hand side tunnel, he pointed the microphone inside. He listened for a full minute. All he heard this time was the sound of far-off distant water.

  He moved to the center tunnel and aimed the microphone. He had only been listening a second when he heard the distinct sound of a young woman’s voice. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but a moment later he heard what sounded like a male reply.

  Rather than head down this tunnel immediately, he moved over to the far left tunnel. Again he adjusted the microphone and listened. Again he heard snippets of both the female and male voices.

  Nate did not know much about mines, but he did know that tunnels often connected. He was in front of the far left-hand side tunnel and decided to search it first. Reattaching the parabolic microphone to his belt, he raised the twelve-gauge sawed-off shotgun he'd stolen in a burglary a month before. Following the light from his headlight, he entered the far left-hand tunnel.

  Because he was moving slowly: turning off his headlamp before every turn, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dark, and looking for light ahead, his progress along the tunnel to the open cavern took a half hour.

  When Nate perceived the opening ahead, he’d turned off his headlight, grabbed the parabolic microphone and listened. He caught faint traces of someone speaking. They were far
away.

  Nate emerged from the tunnel. A solid wall was on his left. A deep chasm hung open on his right. He moved the earphones off his ears and listened to hear what he could without them. He could hear a faint drip of water far off but nothing else.

  Nate reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic tube. He bent it between his hands, and it began to glow green. He tossed the tube into the chasm. It fell a long ways before he heard a muffled splash far below. Why couldn't the two of them have fallen into this pit? Nate’s luck was never that good.

  With the beam of his headlight, he explored the area at the end of the ledge he was on. A small opening indicated the tunnel went on that way, but as he looked into the opening, he saw that a narrow ledge, the only path between the opening where he was and another opening further down had sheared off about halfway along its length into the open chasm. The stone where the ledge was missing sparkled like a new cut. He swung his headlight beam to the far side and saw a much wider tunnel opening at the end of a ledge on that side.

  Patiently, Nate unhooked the parabolic microphone again and pointed it first into the opening to the sheared-off ledge. The break looked recent. It was possible they had caused the ledge to beak. It was possible they had gone that way and survived. He heard nothing. He moved the microphone toward the chasm. All he heard was a steady sound of water moving.

  When he pointed the parabolic microphone at the opening across the chasm, he was soon rewarded with the faint sound of voices.

  As he turned back, he thought to himself that if he’d been lucky, he’d have chosen the middle tunnel in the first place. But he wasn't, then he laughed to himself thinking, neither were the two he was chasing.

  Nate didn't know how long it had taken him to reach the ledge on the far side of the chasm and the opening where he’d heard faint voices. He'd been going slowly, afraid a drop-off might open beneath his feet at any time. Once there, he pointed the parabolic microphone into the tunnel and was rewarded with a clear conversation going on somewhere inside marred only by the sound of rushing water.

  “How old are you?” a male voice Nate assumed was Billy asked.

  “ Why?” a female voice replied.

  “I'm guessing you're fifteen or sixteen.”

  “Almost sixteen. Why do you ask?” she said.

  “People frown on someone my age dating a fifteen-year-old.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I'm figuring today is Halloween. I'll be twenty-two tomorrow.”

  “I’m old for my age,” Cassie said.

  “Not old enough.”

  “You could wait for me,” the female voice said, with a teasing note to her tone, as Nate turned off the parabolic microphone.

  “Nobody is going to be waiting for either of you past today,” Nate said to himself.

  An Old Miner’s Eyes

  Halloween: 12:23 p.m.

  Denny and I stood before an archway beyond which three tunnels opened up. Denny was already examining the floor. Over the years rock and rock dust had fallen from the ceiling. There were tracks in this dust. I was pretty good at reading tracks. Denny was a grandmaster.

  “They went into both of these tunnels,” Denny said pointing to the left and middle tunnel. "Gnat followed them. Don’t know which one they went in first and therefore which one we need to go in. Gnat messed up their tracks when he went in.”

  “There are two of them, besides Nate?”

  “Big one and a smaller one. Both wearing what I guess is some of that cut-up sleeping bag we saw," Denny said.

  So Cassie was probably still alive. What was Billy, if the person with her was Billy, doing with her? “Is there a way out in either of these tunnels?” I asked.

  Denny shook his head. “The right tunnel’s the only way out. If it hasn’t caved in. But it’s maybe a good thing they didn’t go that way.”

  “Why,” I asked.

  Denny turned his head and pointed. In his headlight, I could see two sticks of dynamite. “Dynamite and caps all over that tunnel.”

  I nodded and looked at the two tunnels. “But they could still be ahead of Hanassey?” I asked.

  Denny nodded.

  “We need to split up. You take the left tunnel, and I’ll take the middle,” I said.

  “Makes sense,” Denny said. He looked at me. “Shoot to kill?”

  “Only if you have to,” I said. “How far behind Nate do you think we are?”

  “Not long,” Denny said.

  “Then let’s move quietly,” I said.

  Despite being old, Denny could make good time in the mine. We reached an open area; each of us emerging on ledges separated by a chasm, not long after we’d each entered our separate tunnels. We gave each other a thumbs up but didn’t call out.

  Moments later I entered a tunnel on my side of the chasm and lost sight of Denny.

  Check Your Back Trail

  Halloween: 1:53 p.m.

  Nate Hanassey sat in a short but widened chamber in the mine. He’d been listening to the sounds from the tunnel ahead. The voices of a man and a woman were very distinct. He was sure he was only a few hundred yards away from them. He’d discovered the spot where it seemed they’d fallen into a winze and landed in deep water. Somehow they were still alive. It was time to remedy that situation.

  Suddenly, he thought he heard something behind him. Or had he? Nate always felt he had a sixth sense about things. He’d escaped on numerous times from homes he was burglarizing because he sensed rather than heard someone coming. The only reason he had ended up in prison was because a partner had ratted him out when the cops put pressure on him.

  That partner was now in a 55-gallon drum at the bottom of Rainbow Lake.

  Nate realized it could be his imagination. But he didn’t have to rely on his gut this time. He pointed the parabolic microphone at the opening behind him and listened. He was rewarded. Men were speaking far back in the mine. They were coming.

  Nate thought for a long time. The best thing to do he decided was lie in wait for them.

  Corners in the Dark

  Halloween: 2:46 p.m.

  When I saw the collapsed collar, my heart sank. That there was water down below rather than a hard floor did not give me solace. My first thought was that one or both of them had fallen to their deaths.

  Had I started imagining that Billy Wesley wasn’t as bad as I had originally imagined him to be? There was no sign in the chamber where the two had obviously spent some time that Cassie had been assaulted. And I reasoned, perhaps naively, that a girl that young would most likely be a virgin, and there would have been some sign her virginity had been taken.

  There had been some blood in the chamber, but there had been no sign of violence there. Someone had been brought in bleeding. That may well have been Cassie after her accident. Whatever Billy Wesley was doing was not right, but I was beginning to think he was not the monster I had originally imagined.

  I got as close to the winze as I dared. The drop was at least thirteen yards, and the water below was moving swiftly. Billy Wesley, I had read, had been a lifeguard. But I didn’t even know if Cassie Carew could swim.

  An examination of the tunnel past the winze revealed that someone, most likely Nate Hanassey, had continued on. My choices were to follow the way Hanassey had gone or drop down into the water. Both the tunnel and water were going in the same direction, and it was likely they'd come together at some point. Hanassey had probably figured that out, too.

  I chose to follow Hanassey. I pointed my flashlight down the tunnel in the direction Hanassey had gone. The tunnel seemed solid and fairly straight. I turned my flashlight off and peered into the darkness. I saw no sign of light. I moved forward in the dark for about forty paces then turned my flashlight on again. Then I repeated the process. There was no point in alerting Hanassey with my light.

  About five minutes later I came across a small alcove that had been dug into the tunnel wall. I kept my flashlight on and pointed at the floor as I passed it. A
crude table had been built there. Across the table were spread sticks of dynamite in varying degrees of decay. I saw at least one blasting cap on the floor near the table.

  Until I was well clear of the table and any stray blasting caps, I kept my light on the floor. When I came to another straight section of tunnel, I began my on and off flashlight procedure.

  As I walked, I strained my ears for any sound of voices or movement. But I heard nothing. A few hundred yards further, I came to a spot where a quick peek with my light revealed a long stretch that ended in a corner where a huge unpeeled log held back a wooden-beam-braced wall of stacked, slightly leaning, bowling-ball-sized waste rock. These I knew were called gobbing by miners. This gobbing rested on the right side of the passage. With my flashlight off I moved as quietly as I could toward the corner checking for any light at all peeking around the edge, listening intently for any sound.

  I’d learned to be very careful rounding a corner when I didn't know what lay beyond it, not as an MP or sniper but as a child. At my cousin’s house, a bunch of us were playing war with cap guns. A neighbor kid I was with named Joey ran gung-ho around a corner of my cousin’s house where an alley ran to the back. Not anticipating that anyone would be lying in wait, he had been cut down in a volley of cap-fire. My cousin, who had just waylaid my erstwhile companion, taught me the second lesson I learned that day. He assumed my companion had been the only enemy coming around the corner. My cousin had turned about-face and was walking down the alley with his back toward me. He was boasting to his team how he had just gotten Joey as I turned that corner and shot him in the back.

  I stopped just before the corner in the dark. From behind the unpeeled log, I leaned out just enough for one eye to peek around its edge.

  I saw nothing. I heard nothing. I waited a full minute, then another, then a third. It seemed clear. I started to step out around the log post, but then, instead, moved the flashlight to my left hand and extended my left arm around the corner. I leaned over just far enough to peek with my left eye as I turned the flashlight on.