The Journal: Ash Fall

by Moore, Deborah D.

  My cellphone went in a pocket and the charger went into the backpack. I had to call Eric about watching the house, however, I could do that on the way. I slipped into the leather shoulder holster and secured the Kel Tec, putting on a lightweight jacket to conceal the weapon. Having done that, I went back to the closet and selected a heavier jacket for later. It might be July, but the nights were still cool, especially up on the Plains where the mine was.

  I gave Tufts a quick ear scratch, plus a pet down his silky black head, and I was out the door. I tossed the pack to Steve and headed to the barn.

  On one of the large wooden storage shelves behind another box, was a small box with a new pair of jungle boots. I could put them on in the truck.

  Out of the back seat in my car, I got my pink hard hat that said “Emergency Manager – Moose Creek Twp.”

  I was ready. It took me six minutes.

  * * *

  I’ve been to the mine before for introduction tours. We all had to wear the provided ill-fitting hard hats and ridiculous, but effective, steel toed caps over our shoes that clattered like tap shoes with every step. My jungle boots had built in steel toes, and my pink hard hat would make me highly visible. They weren’t going to keep me safely somewhere else.

  The ride up to the mine seemed to take an extra-long amount of time, although I knew it was still only twenty-five minutes.

  The huge metal gates rolled open as the white and green truck drove up to the manned guard shack. Security was very tight around the mine, and always had been, considering the controversy from the onset. Many people just did not want this kind of a mine in our community. Simon spoke quickly to the guard on duty, and we passed through in seconds.

  When I was there before, we were required to park in a certain area, where chocks were provided for each vehicle, a safety procedure. This time however, Simon bypassed the near empty parking area and drove straight to the portal, a yawning maw that was the entrance to the mine itself.

  Overhead, the sky was a deep blue and the sun beat down hot, the beauty of the day cloaking the tragedy that was unfolding somewhere beneath our feet. Waves of heat pulsed from the new asphalt road, releasing a sick stench of petroleum tar. I grabbed my pink hard hat and slid out of the truck, following Simon into the mine entrance.

  Simon made the introduction. “Allexa Smeth, this is Roger Boyle, the mine supervisor.” I extended my hand and returned Roger’s firm handshake. He glanced at my hard hat and offered a suppressed grin.

  “At least you won’t be hard to find,” he said, turning back to what he’d been doing.

  “Would you care to bring me up to date, Mr. Boyle?” I said with an intended edge to my voice. I was not going to let him use my being a female to dismiss me from the loop. It did get his attention.

  “Certainly,” he said with a restrained sigh. “You will forgive my lack of protocol. This is a very serious situation.”

  “I’m very well aware how serious this is, Roger, I’m here to help however I can,” I replied, softening my voice. I looked around at the cavernous entrance. The ceiling was a good twenty feet high and the width was slightly more, perhaps thirty feet. A hundred feet in, the floor began to slope and it veered off to the left. When I had been there before that slope was plunged into darkness, lit only by the headlights of the vehicles descending into the bowels of the mine. Now, however, I could see shadows from unseen lights. I also noticed a drop in the temperature even just twenty feet inside, and wondered how low it dropped further in.

  Boyle led me over to a large map fastened to the smoothed rock wall. Overhead lights bolted into the rock pushed back the gloom. It was a two-dimensional map of a three-dimensional series of tunnels that led ever downward.

  “It looks like a gerbil tunnel,” I commented, which earned a sincere chuckle from the supervisor.

  “We’ve learned a lot from those little animals,” he said. “They too have constant switch-backs and widened passing areas. The cave in is here,” he said, pointing to an area two switch-backs in, “and it runs, we think, to here.” It was a large area that was blocked, maybe fifty feet.

  “Do you know what happened?” I asked, unable to tear my view from the map.

  “No, we don’t. It’s still too early. However, we do know a few things.” He moved away from the map, glanced from my pink hat down to my feet. “Steel toes?” he asked. When I nodded, he started walking deeper into the mine.

  My heartbeat picked up a couple of notches, matching my increased claustrophobic breathing as we descended and lost visual contact with natural light.

  “This happened close to shift change, so the day crew was on their way to the surface. The night crew was still on top. We don’t let that many men below at the same time for obvious safety reasons. Plus, there aren’t enough pods for that many.”

  “How many life pods are there?” I asked. “I’ve done the tours,” I added when he glanced back at me.

  “There are currently four. The life pods are constructed of the hardest material available and designed to withstand incredible weight. They’re large enough to hold twelve men, and are supplied with food, water and air to keep them alive for twelve hours, which is why they are placed at every turn-out. One man alone could conceivably last six days. We’re not going to test that though.”

  We had arrived at another map, and lots of activity, and a wall of smashed rocks.

  “Okay, what we know is this. The crew was approximately here when rock started shifting overhead,” he pointed at the new map. “Some of the guys tried to make it out, although most of them got caught and are likely dead. Only two made it out and they’ve given us what intel we have so far. The rest headed further back in just before the ceiling let go. We don’t know how many made it to a safer area. There are twelve men possibly alive, and within range of two pods, here and here,” he pointed again. “From what we can estimate, there’s at least fifty feet of solid rock between here and open space. We just don’t know until we can drill through the blockage. At least then we can pump in some 0-2.”

  “How far in have you drilled?” I asked. I would need to go topside soon; I was starting to feel dizzy.

  “We’ve made it twenty feet. That’s ten feet per hour. It will be another three hours before we can assess when we can start serious rock removal.”

  “Where are the two that made it out?” I asked. I already knew John wasn’t one of them, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask them some questions.

  “In the infirmary. They were pretty banged up,” Roger answered just as the lights flickered and went out.

  I closed my eyes, willing myself to stay calm while I reached in my pocket for the Maglite. Once I switched it on I felt better. Other lights were coming on now, mainly from the dirty and chipped helmets of the workers.

  “You should consider getting one,” Roger commented as he turned on his own helmet light. He led the way topside.

  “It’s in my bag,” I replied. “I didn’t think I would need it just yet.”

  “While you’re getting it, you might want to leave your weapon there. It’s against company rules for there to be any firearms on the premises.” It surprised me that he was aware of my holster.

  “The world has changed, Mr. Boyle,” I countered.

  “Not here it hasn’t,” he stated flatly.

  “As you wish.”

  * * *

  Once back at the mine entrance, I breathed deeply, gulping in the fresh, warm air. Roger turned me over to one of the night shift guys who led me to the infirmary in search of the two very lucky miners who escaped the avalanche of rocks.

  * * *

  “Good afternoon, Allexa,” Dr. Mark greeted me. “John’s down under, isn’t he? How are you holding up?” His voice had softened and his eyes were filled with concern.

  “I’m hanging in there, Doc.” I gave him a wan smile. “I guess I’m still in shock over all that has happened, and until we know for sure the … condition of those still trapped, I’m not going to b
orrow trouble. I’d like to see the two guys that escaped, if I may.” I realized quickly that I shouldn’t have been shocked that Mark was there. He was the only doctor in the township and he was likely the first one called. Still, it was the first time we’d seen each other since my birthday and the greenhouse kiss, and it was a bit unnerving.

  I removed my hard hat and set it on one of the vacant padded chrome chairs that served as a waiting room.

  “They were badly battered by the rocks. Travis has a concussion and Paul dislocated his shoulder. These guys are incredibly muscular and it was difficult getting the humerus back in its socket,” Mark told me. “Last time I checked they were both sleeping. Pain is exhausting.”

  I moved the curtain back and was shocked by the sight of the two young men, still dirty from the rock dust, lying motionless on two of the six blue cots.

  “Mark, would you mind if I washed their faces? I’ll be very careful. Being clean sometimes works wonders.” Once I got an approving nod from the doctor, I got a couple of towels from an overhead cupboard and a small bowl of warm water. I sat down on the edge of Paul’s bed and dampened the towel. I wiped the dirt from his chin, then cheeks. When I removed the sooty smudges from his forehead he opened his eyes.

  “Hi, Paul. How are you feeling?” I asked softly, still moving the wet cloth across his dirty skin.

  “I hurt everywhere, Allexa. Have they …?” He closed his eyes again.

  “No, they’re still drilling a hole, trying to get some air in there. It hasn’t been long.” The water was getting muddy. “Paul, did you see John at all?”

  “I didn’t see him, no, but he always brings up the rear, making sure everyone else is out.” He coughed and groaned in pain.

  If John was at the end of the group, that was very good news. It meant he was away from the rock slide.

  “You rest now. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.” I swayed when I stood, relief flooding me. I informed Mark that one of his patients was conscious, and moved to the other one, having refreshed the steel bowl with clean water.

  Travis didn’t just have a concussion, he had massive bruises and cuts on his face and scalp. I dabbed gently, not wanting to add to his pain.

  “You do that rather well, Allexa. You should have been a nurse,” Mark whispered in my ear as I finished washing Travis. “Thank you, I haven’t had time to clean them up. I can see Travis needs a bit more attention to those cuts. Will you assist me?”

  “I’m really not qualified, Mark.”

  “You’ve got compassion and a gentle touch. That’s all the skills you need right now,” Mark replied. We worked silently together, washing and dressing the wounds that were uncovered.

  By the time we were done, more than an hour had passed, and the need to get back was strong. I found my backpack beside the first desk at the portal. Knowing the switch I needed to make, I went back to the infirmary.

  “Mind if I leave this here, Mark? I’d feel better if I knew this was in safe hands.” I removed my light jacket, exposing the shoulder holster. I slipped it off, wrapped the straps around the gun, and buried it in the bottom of the pack.

  “Leave it behind the desk,” he said noncommittally. I’d never asked him his view on guns and wondered if he was anti-weapon.

  “Does this bother you?”

  “I’ve seen too many gunshot wounds to be pro-gun, Allexa, although I do see the necessity of them in this new era,” he stated simply. “Your pack will be safe here.”

  * * *

  Roger met me partway down the first ramp. “I was just coming to find you, Allexa. We’ve broken through! The blockage seems to be only twenty-five feet, not the fifty we first thought.”

  “That’s good news! I’m assuming it also means less to clear out,” I responded.

  “Absolutely. We should be cutting recovery time in half, depending on what we find along the way.” He glanced over at me. “Are you squeamish? This might not be pretty. In fact, it’s likely to be quite unpleasant at times. Can you handle that?”

  “I think she’ll be fine, she’s tough,” Mark commented, coming up behind us. “Gray just got here so I left him to tend our two patients, and to get ready for more.” He looked over at Boyle and said, “Thanks for keeping me up on the progress; those radios are very handy.”

  “Which reminds me, Allexa, here’s yours,” Roger handed me a small walkie-talkie type device to clip on my belt.

  * * *

  Just as the three of us arrived at the site, there was some frantic activity feeding a long device in through the newly drilled hole.

  “What are they doing, Roger?” I asked.

  “The pipe that’s going in right now is to hold the opening intact and to protect the camera that will go in next,” he replied. “The camera is infra-red and will let us see any heat signatures, which means live bodies. Next will be an actual light so we can look around for other victims. Hooked to the camera is a series of microphones, both to send and receive. If there is anyone within range, we will have communication.”

  The first images on the monitor that came back from the camera were not encouraging, not until the camera scanned the cavernous room on zoom. That’s when we were able to see several inert forms further down the passage. A sigh of relief was felt by all. There were men still alive! When there was no verbal response from inside, the light was sent in and the camera was switched off infrared. There were no visible bodies in the immediate area.

  “That isn’t necessarily good,” Roger informed us. “The rest could be buried under the rock. On the other hand, some may have made it to the pod in that area that appears to be buried. We’ll pipe in some music while we work on this side.’

  “Music? Why music?” I asked, shivering, not from scene, but from the cold that was seeping into my bones. I hadn’t realized how low the temperature would be this far from the surface.

  “If any of the men wake up, they’ll know a rescue is underway. They all know the risks; they also know we will do everything and anything we can to get them out in case of a cave-in. Music is the sign. It will give them hope, knowing we’re here and busy trying to get them out.”

  “What now?” asked Mark.

  “Now we start digging. We’ve got some incredible machines capable of picking up boulders. The larger ones will be moved out on trucks one at a time; smaller ones will fill a truck first then be removed.” Roger looked over the map and the wall of debris, slowly pacing the length of the fallen rock. “We’ll start here,” he said half to us, mostly to the work crew, pointing to an area to one side. He turned back to Mark and me and said, “The objective will be to make a man-sized tunnel that will allow us to get the survivors out of there as quickly as possible. It’s going to be a slow and dangerous process, and I can’t let you stay right here.”

  I started to protest, but he stopped me.

  “There are monitors being set up at the entrance of the portal. You can watch everything from there,” he said. “I’m also asking both of you to stay nearby in case you’re needed.” Without waiting for us to agree, Roger led us out of the chilly gloom.

  * * *

  I walked around in the fading sunlight, just a few feet outside of the portal entrance, trying to get warm. The temperatures had been in the low eighties all day, except we had spent several hours two hundred feet below the surface at forty-five degrees, and I was still chilled.

  “I’m going back to the office for a few minutes,” Mark said. “Can I bring you anything back?”

  “Yes, if you don’t mind, I’d like my heavier jacket, thanks.” I couldn’t keep my eyes off the monitors once they were set up. One twenty-five inch screen gave us a view of the inside, where the men were trapped, and another was a long view of the work in progress.

  As I stood there watching the sun touch the horizon, a sentry insulated from the harsh work below, I realized I was indeed alone. There were no reporters, no family members waiting for word of their loved ones, no one. These men had no family
to worry over them or to grieve if they didn’t come out. Even Steve, as much as he cared for this crew under his roof, had gone. I was left here, the only one to weep or cheer.

  I slipped into the jacket when Mark returned, took the offered bottle of water, and we waited. Dusk morphed into a purple twilight and then into the blackness of midnight. We watched as small, fist sized rocks were scooped out of a hole, only to be replaced by larger ones. The progress was maddeningly slow.

  July 7

  I woke to the sun warming the back of my head and a heavy blanket draped around me. I sat up, pushing off the now too warm cover and looked at the monitors. It was as if nothing had changed, until I saw someone come out of the new hole!

  I grabbed my hardhat and hurried down to the excavation site, making it just in time for a quick briefing.

  During the night, the hole had been widened to three feet in diameter, big enough for someone on this side to crawl through and inspect the damage and the victims on the other.

  * * *

  “I thought it would take a lot longer to get inside,” I said to Roger as I came up behind him, partly to make my presence known and to not startle anyone.