by Des Hunt
Tony turned to go when a movement on the top stopped him. It was Betty and Rose.
‘Betty!’ he called. ‘Mum and Duggan are on the cliff. They’re both alive. I’m going to get Nick. He’s in the mine.’
‘Lofty’s gone to get others,’ shouted Betty. ‘It might be better to wait until they get here.’
Tony chose to ignore that. He knew the mine better than anyone. ‘Mum, Betty’s here and help’s on the way. I’m going to get Nick. Don’t you worry.’
This time he did leave, taking the path back to the lodge. When he got to the stream he stopped for a moment—there was no water in it. As he processed this information, a voice asked, ‘Where’s the water gone?’ It was Rose.
‘It must be blocked somewhere. Come on, he could be drowning.’
‘Where is he?’
‘In the limestone pit. Duggan tied him up and left him there.’
‘Then we’d better get going,’ said Rose.
They ran straight to the shed, ignoring the guests who were milling around talking excitedly. Tony collected the lamps while Rose looked for the first-aid cabinet. Thirty seconds later they were on their way to the mine.
The entrance was a shock: water was flowing from it. Tony knew that must mean that the limestone pit had already flooded and was overflowing. They had to get to Nick quickly.
The trip along the tracks was easier now. The flowing water had washed away most of the sand falls leaving a clean track. As they went, Rose kept asking questions about Duggan, the Frenchwoman, the police. She wanted to know everything. Tony told her the important parts. The rest could wait until later. He knew she would want more. The Charleston Chitchat would be sending out a bumper edition after this lot was over.
When they got to the wagon they saw the water coming out of the tunnel that led to the limestone pit. Most was flowing down into the uranium grotto. When that filled, there would be even more water down the track—that would be a problem in getting Nick out. That’s if they found him.
Travelling along the side tunnel was more difficult. The water was up to their knees and flowing swiftly.
‘There was never this much water in the stream,’ said Tony. ‘Another one must have joined it.’
‘Or it’s coming from Duggan’s dams,’ added Rose.
Tony felt fear run up and down his spine. The idea of the dams bursting made him quicken his steps. He tried to visualise the top of the pit. Was there enough space for somebody without being in the water? Yes, there was: where Rose had perched when he went down there the first time. If Nick had got up there, then he might be OK. Otherwise…
There was no black hole where the pit should be—only water. It was swelling up and overflowing like a burst water main. It took a moment before they saw Nick. For some reason Tony had expected a light. He felt a surge of hate towards Duggan for leaving him in the dark.
Rose pushed past him and climbed up onto the bank where Nick had somehow dragged himself. ‘He’s still breathing,’ she said. She opened the first-aid kit. ‘You cut the tapes while I look for injuries.’
Nick was lying on his back with his lower body hanging over the side and dangling in the water. Tony took the scissors, lifted the legs and cut the tapes. There was no reaction from the man.
Rose had already found the injury in his thigh. ‘Cut back the trousers,’ she ordered. This was a side of Rose that Tony had not seen before. This was an efficient, nononsense young woman. He was impressed.
With the trousers cut away, the wound was exposed. A long sharp piece of glass stuck out from an ugly gash, about a centimetre wide. Beside it was a bigger cut, still oozing blood.
Rose looked closely at it. ‘We’ll have to take it out or it might do more damage, or even cut us. I’ll pull it out. You be ready to push your hand on the opening.’
It was done before Tony had a chance to think about it. He kept the pressure on while Rose prepared a bandage.
Nick was in a bad way. His face was white from the loss of blood. There were cuts wherever his skin was exposed. Tony knew it must have been hell bouncing around the pit in the dark, unable to protect himself. He felt a rush of anger. How could Duggan have done this? Then, just as quickly, he felt guilt, because none of this would have happened if he’d told them the truth about the missing woman.
As Rose tightened the dressing, Tony felt the leg move beneath him. He looked up and saw Nick’s eyes were open.
‘Don’t move, Nick,’ he said.
It took the man a while to sort out what was happening. ‘Christine?’ he asked in a weak voice.
‘Christine will be all right,’ said Tony. ‘She’s all right.’
‘Was she injured? Where was she?’
‘On Cathedral Rock.’
‘It’s OK,’ said Rose. ‘She’s going to be all right. Let’s worry about you, now. I’ve fixed your leg. Are you hurt anywhere else?’
‘My…my arm.’ The arms were tied behind his back. To cut the tapes would mean turning him over. There was no way that could happen on the narrow bank.
‘We could lower him into the water and then drag him into the tunnel,’ suggested Rose. It seemed to be the only way.
They had got him in the water and were supporting him by the shoulders when the aftershock struck. The water sloshed violently. Rose lost her grip and fell in. Tony jammed his feet against the bank and held on. If he let go, he felt sure Nick would go under.
The most terrifying part was the deep rumbling coming from the rocks surrounding them. Some bits fell from the roof and Tony felt his foothold begin to crumble.
It lasted only a few seconds—just enough time for Tony to worry about Christine. He hoped they had got her out in time.
‘The dam…’ said Nick. ‘Burst…Get out. Save yourselves.’
The water was now flowing so fast out of the pit that it was rising like a fountain.
‘Not without you,’ replied Tony, hauling Nick out of the water.
‘Get his hands free,’ said Rose clambering out after him. ‘That’ll make it a lot easier.’
Unfortunately the first-aid kit had been swept down the tunnel. So, with Rose holding Nick’s head out of the water, Tony bit through the tape with his teeth.
Rose put her head near Nick’s. ‘Can you walk?’
The man shook his head. ‘No. I’m too weak. Leave me here. You’ve still got a chance to get out.’
Tony ignored him. ‘We’ll have to drag him.’ After turning him over, Tony grabbed his shoulders and began backing down the tunnel; Rose grabbed hold of the feet.
The task got easier as the water level increased and bouyancy supported most of the weight. Yet this couldn’t go on forever. At the rate the water was rising, the whole tunnel would be full well before they got outside.
Tony hoped that the flow might ease when they got to the main tunnel where water could spill into the grotto. But when they got there he found it was not to be: the uranium grotto was already full.
Maybe if they got into one of the side tunnels—one that sloped up. Air would get trapped and they might last until the water drained. But the thought of being trapped was too frightening. There had to be another way. He looked at the wagon. Was that the way out? Was it possible? Yes, he decided. Yes, it was.
‘We’ll use the wagon.’
‘We won’t be able to get him in,’ said Rose.
‘Nick,’ said Tony. ‘Can you hear me?’
There was a slight movement of the head.
‘You’ve got to help us get you into the wagon. It’s our only hope.’
It would have been hopeless if they’d had to lift him the full height. But the water made it just about possible. With Rose and Tony pushing from below, and Nick pulling on the sides, they managed to get him past the balance point. From there he fell over to crash into the bottom. In a flash, Rose was beside him, easing him into a better position.
Tony climbed up onto the driver’s step. He grabbed hold of the brake lever and pressed forward. Noth
ing happened. It would not budge.
‘Hurry, Tony!’ yelled Rose. ‘It’s rising fast.’
Tony pushed again. Still the same result. He climbed past the lever until he was balancing on the wheels. From there he could pull. There was a slight movement on the first attempt. He moved into a better position and pulled again. This time it went with a rush. Tony fell back into the water with the brake lever still in his hand—it had broken off.
In the time it took him to scramble back onto the step, the wagon had started moving, slowly at first and then with a rush as the water got behind it. For the first part of the journey the wagon stayed on the tracks. Every now and then it would slow down as it ran into sand still covering the rails. But each time the force of the water was enough to shunt them on. All the time the water was rising.
Rose was facing the back, supporting Nick’s head. Her lamp shone past Tony, back down the tunnel. Just when he was thinking things were going fine, Tony saw her eyes widen and heard a gasp as her jaw dropped. ‘What is it?’ he asked.
She just pointed. Tony turned to see a wall of water coming towards them. ‘Hell!’ was all he managed to say.
‘Get inside!’ screamed Rose. With a kick of his feet he tumbled into the wagon, falling onto Nick’s legs. As he scrambled to his feet, Tony was knocked back again by the force of the water hitting them. Then the wagon lifted off the tracks and took off. Now it was a boat.
Fred’s grandfather would never have experienced a ride out of the mine like they did that day. It was madness! The wagon surfed along at the head of the flood, swinging from side to side, and swishing up and down. At each bend it would crash into the wall, shuddering along for a while before taking off again. Sometimes it lifted high enough to bump into the roof and scrape their helmets; at others it would sway so violently that Tony was sure they would tip over.
Then he saw the circle of light that was the opening. A wave of relief swept over him.
‘There’s the opening!’ he yelled. ‘We’re going to make it!’ He started screaming and kept on screaming.
Rose looked at him as if he was mad, but he didn’t care. They were going to make it—and if this feeling was madness, then he liked being mad.
As he watched the opening get bigger, he remembered his mother’s saying about the light at the end of the tunnel. Now he knew what she was talking about it. He could see it. This was the light at the end of the tunnel. It was the light of safety, hope, the future—everything. And this time they were going to make it.
By the time they reached the entrance, Rose was laughing and screaming too. They burst out to the light and through the sand into the gorse bushes. The water spilled over the ground and the wagon returned to its wheels. Yet still it continued, out of the gorse and into the clearing. Tony caught a flash of somebody diving out of the way as they screamed through and on into the scrub.
Now it started to slow. Branches were bent and grasses were squashed, until the wagon met an old stump that just wouldn’t give way. The right wheels lifted and the wagon tipped onto its side, sliding towards the base of a manuka tree. They crashed with a dull thud that shook the tree to its roots, spilling the passengers onto a soft bed of leaves. A cloud of white petals drifted down from the tree to cover them like confetti.
And, finally, all was still.
Tony lay on his back, letting the waves of relief and joy sweep over his body. They had won. He turned, looking for Rose. She was already on her knees caring for Nick.
‘You people all right?’ It was Fred, red in the face and puffing like a steam engine.
‘We are,’ answered Rose. ‘But Nick’s not.’
‘I am all right,’ said a weak voice. ‘But is Christine?’
‘She’s…’ Fred was stopped by the noise of a helicopter flying close to the treetops. When it had passed he continued. ‘She’s OK. Nothing that won’t mend.’
Tony looked at Nick and saw a lovely smile light up his battered face. Rose was smiling too. What a story she would have to tell. Tony felt her hand searching for his, finding it, and then squeezing gently. He returned the pressure, excited by her touch. What a start to the year, he thought. Yet he also knew that this was much more than the first day of a new year: this was the first day of a new life.
Chapter 26
Lofty dropped them off at the hospital. Betty had given detailed instructions about where to go, yet they were hardly needed, the place was not big enough for them to get lost.
Christine and Nick were together in a conservatory leading from the main ward. Mother and son hugged hard and long; it was not easy in the confined space of the wheelchair. Rose gave Nick a hug and sat on the sofa beside him. Tony put his schoolbag on the floor and crouched on a step close to his mother.
Apart from the plaster and bandages, neither of the patients looked sick. In fact, quite the opposite—they looked radiant.
‘So,’ said Rose, ‘what’s the goss around here?’
‘Well,’ said Christine, leaning forward, ‘this place has so much goss, you could make a TV programme about it.’ She then launched into a series of stories about the ills and problems of her fellow patients. Tony didn’t mind. It was just great to be with her and to see her so happy.
When there was a lull in the conversation, he took two parcels out of his bag and handed them to Rose. She stood formally in front of the couple. ‘I have a present for each of you.’ Then she thrust them forward, plainly anxious for them to be unwrapped.
The gifts were identical: half a concretion with a greenstone heart mounted in the middle. ‘They’re the same concretion,’ said Rose. ‘So you two have to stay together now or you’ll separate them and it will be really bad luck.’
As they were thanking Rose, Tony took out his gifts. They were much smaller. Without speaking he handed them one each.
Christine opened hers first. It was a small glass tube half filled with a golden powder. She looked at it, puzzling for a while, before asking. ‘Is this gold?’
By then Nick had his package open. ‘Yes, it is,’ he said smiling. He turned to Tony. ‘Where did it come from?’
‘The bottom of the mine. Under the tracks. You were right. That’s where all the gold was.’
Nick thought for a moment. ‘And the water rushing out of the mine removed the sand and concentrated it more.’
That’s what Fred had said too. As soon as the water had drained, they had entered the mine to retrieve the backpack for the police. The gold had been obvious, even to Tony’s untrained eye—golden jewels within the rusty sand. Later, they had scooped up a couple of buckets full and taken it to Fred’s place where some of his junk was put to good use. The result was almost two ounces of pure gold, and that’s what was in the tubes.
‘It’s enough for each of you to make a ring,’ said Rose. ‘Then you must give them to each other on your wedding day.’ She was as excited as if she was getting married herself. Nick and Christine exchanged knowing smiles.
‘Fred says there’s more if you need it,’ said Tony.
Nick asked, ‘So, he is back into mining?’
‘I think so. He said he was going to talk to Jamie Duggan about it.’
Nick stiffened at the mention of Duggan. Christine put a hand on his arm.
‘Jamie’s just around the corner there,’ she said pointing to the end of the conservatory. ‘He’s doing quite well. The police have been in a couple of times, but as yet no charges have been laid. I suspect they think he’s already punished himself enough. Anyway, he said he’d like to see you when you came in.’
‘Should I?’
‘Yes, Tony. He’s not a monster. He’s just a man who suffered a lot of grief and didn’t know how to deal with it. He’s coming right. He and Nick have sort of made things up.’ Tony looked at Nick and thought there was still a long way to go.
‘Go and do it now, before lunch is served.’
Duggan was in bed with an overhead contraption connected to his thigh. He greeted the boy with a hu
ge smile which Tony was unsure about returning. Yet, he felt it was the first genuine smile he’d ever seen on the Scotsman.
‘Good morning, Tony. I’m pleased you dropped by. I’ve got somethin’ I need to say to you.’
Tony shook the offered hand and waited. He had a good idea what was coming.
When Duggan spoke again, his voice was soft and serious. ‘I want to thank you for what you did for me when I was hangin’ on tha’ ledge. I doona know what woulda happened if you hadna told me about tha’ Frenchwoman.’
‘It’s OK.’
‘I know it would have been easy to run off to save Nick and leave me ne’er knowin’, but you didna do tha’. And I’ll always be grateful.’
Tony didn’t know what to say.
‘So, if there’s anythin’ I can do for you, just let me know.’
‘Well,’ said Tony, pleased to shift the conversation. ‘There is something.’
‘Speak up, laddie.’
‘I’d like enough money to build a large pen for the weka chicks. One that’s big enough to house them until they can be released.’
Duggan looked embarrassed. ‘Aye, I can do tha’. I’m real sorry about those wee birds. I wasna thinkin’ too straight at the time.’
‘You wanted to stop them digging up the pack.’
The man nodded.
‘You tried to scare me away first, didn’t you?’
‘Aye. I didna want you pokin’ aboot. It had worked with another laddie. But I found you too tough to scare.’
‘You let the weka into the caravan.’
‘Aye, and the rat. And the possum on top.’
‘And you made out you were a ghost.’
Duggan looked puzzled. ‘Nay, laddie. I didna do anythin’ like tha’.’
‘You didn’t paint a sheet with that luminescent stuff?’
‘Nay. Tha’s way too scarce to waste. I wouldna do tha’. You wouldna be scared of a ghost anyway. Would you?’
Much later, when he was lying in the darkness of the caravan, Tony tried to answer that question. Would he be scared of ghosts? He wasn’t sure. If they were just things in your head, then what was there to be scared of? Anyway, with the earthquake gone, the images wouldn’t be back. So there was nothing more to worry about. He rolled over, pulled the bedclothes in tight, and went to sleep listening to the soothing songs of the frogs.
