Murray told them to put on their face masks, explaining they needed to familiarize themselves with the air supply system while there was still a little time. “When I give the word, turn off your headlamps,” he said. “If we run into smoke or dangerous levels of CO or methane up there, it could hit fast. You’ve got to be able to get that mask on in the dark.”
One by one, the helmet lamps went off as they squatted or knelt in the tunnel. Elizabeth was next to Atkins. The darkness was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Black, impenetrable. She couldn’t see her hand when she pressed it against her nose.
As she fumbled with her mask and straps, Elizabeth noticed a faint green light. Barely visible in the inky dark, it was glowing and luminescent. As her eyes slowly focused, she could make out the greenish light more clearly.
It formed an oval design. She realized it was the luminous dial of a watch.
Seeing it more clearly, her hand shot to her mouth, and she bit down on it to keep from crying out. She stifled a scream. She remembered the last time she’d seen it, not understanding what it was.
The night someone had entered the equipment room when the lights were out. She’d glimpsed a faint green light, a momentary flash of color.
It was the watch of the man who’d stolen her computer.
NEAR KALER, KENTUCKY
JANUARY 20
2:15 P.M.
“TURN YOUR LIGHTS BACK ON.”
At Murray’s order, Elizabeth and the others switched on their helmet lamps. Heart pounding, she looked to see who was sitting to her left. That’s where she’d seen the luminous dial, or where she thought she’d seen it. Someone must have checked the time, momentarily revealing the glowing watch face.
In the darkness, it was hard to pinpoint exactly where an object was located.
Atkins and Weston were to her left. Murray, Wren, and Booker sat across from them. They were all bunched together.
Elizabeth focused on everyone’s hands, looking for the wristwatch with the oval dial.
No luck. The long sleeves of their jumpsuits covered their wrists. With their headlamps on again, Elizabeth couldn’t tell who was wearing the watch.
But he was here. Close to her.
She wanted to scream. It took every ounce of her frayed self-control to keep the look of anger and fear off her face. He was sitting within a few feet of her, a few inches.
“We better move out,” Murray said. They were on Level 11. He explained that they were going to ascend the skip shaft about two hundred feet to Level 9. Moving back into the coal tunnel on that level, they’d try to see if the air shaft or man shaft was still open so they could climb up to Level 8, where the elevator cage waited for them.
They had to keep going at all costs.
Murray warned them it was likely they’d encounter smoke—possibly fire.
“Loop the air masks around your neck so you can get them on fast in an emergency,” he advised. They headed down the tunnel to the skip shaft. Murray checked his gas meter. The carbon monoxide levels were rising. So was the methane, which had climbed to 6.3 percent.
“This keeps up, we’re going to have another explosion,” he said grimly. “It’s just a matter of time.”
They started up the skip shaft. Elizabeth hung back so she could whisper a few words to Atkins. “He’s here,” she said softly. “The man who stole my laptop.”
The words startled him. They were totally unexpected. Atkins said, “Who is it?” He knew it couldn’t be Booker or Murray. There were only two possibilities, Weston or Wren.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I saw his wristwatch when we turned off our lamps. I recognized the luminous dial from that night. It was the only thing I got a look at. I remember seeing a blur of something green. I didn’t realize it was a watch until a few seconds ago in the dark.”
“What did it look like?” Atkins asked, trying to keep his voice down.
Elizabeth described the watch.
“Get ready to take another look,” he said. “I’m going to try something.” He shouted to Murray up at the head of the line.
“Hey, Doc. Can we turn off the headlamps again? Just for a few seconds. I’d like to have one more try with the face mask. I don’t have it down yet.”
“Make it quick,” Murray said.
Atkins noted where Weston and Wren were in the shaft. They all switched off the lamps on their hard hats. Instantly, the blackness swallowed them up, obliterated their presence.
Atkins waited, straining to see. Then he glimpsed the watch. It was just ahead of him, a green, oval-shaped dial. He wanted to reach for it, grab it, but held back.
The man with the watch had his arms extended, bracing himself on the narrow walls of the shaft.
“I’ve got it now, thanks,” Atkins said, calling out to Murray. Everyone turned their headlamps back on.
Ever since Elizabeth had told him what had happened, Atkins was sure it had to be either Weston or Marshal.
The man with the watch was the soft-spoken geologist, Mark Wren.
ATKINS and Elizabeth both got a clearer look at the wristwatch as Wren kept his hands pressed against the sides of the skip shaft. Atkins was struck by the man’s daunting coolness. During the descent into the mine, he’d spoken several times to Elizabeth, had helped her pick up her gear, offered his hand to her in some of the more difficult places. He’d given no indication anything was wrong, not the slightest hint.
It was a bravura performance, Atkins thought. But the question remained: Why was he taking such a risk? He already had the computer. What else did he want? Surely he had to figure there was a remote chance she might recognize him. It didn’t make sense. Was he that sure of himself, that brazen? If so, he was more dangerous than either of them could have imagined.
They’d climbed about a hundred feet up the skip shaft and were nearly to Level 10 when another explosion ripped through the heart of the mine. The walls and floor shuddered. The deafening blast was much louder than before. Its concussive force knocked them down. Rock and powder fell on them. There was a cave-in somewhere far below them. They heard the shaft collapse.
“That’s got to be another methane explosion,” Murray said, getting back on his feet.
Fire curtains were drawn to each side of the opening to the mine tunnel on Level 10.
Murray, who was in the lead, saw it first, a ball of white fire rolling down the tunnel, spreading out through the other tunnels and crosscuts as it headed toward the skip shaft.
Murray pulled the fire curtains together. “Come on, fast!” he yelled. “We’ve got to get up the shaft before we’re fried.”
They tried to run, but their heavy air tanks and the other equipment weighed them down, and it was impossible to stand up in the low, steep tunnel. Hunched over, they were strung out. Murray was in front, followed by Neutron and Booker. The robot was carrying Murray’s forty-pound foam canister as well as the one that had belonged to Walt Jacobs.
Weston was the last to make it past the Level 10 opening. A tongue of flame obliterated the thick plastic fire curtains, roaring into the shaft right behind him.
Wren, the next in line, was forced to drop back. In his haste to get away from the heat, he threw himself against Elizabeth, driving her into Atkins. They rolled and slid down the shaft nearly all the way to Level 11.
Stopping his own tumbling fall. Wren got to his feet and faced the flames. He shouted up to Murray, but the roaring fire drowned out his words. Backing down the shaft, he joined Elizabeth and Atkins at the entrance to the tunnel on Level 11.
Atkins confronted him. “If we get out of this, I’m going to make sure you’re charged with theft. You can tell
