Fatal

farmer commandos?'

'Don' rotly know what ta expect. The people what run thet mine ain't survived the way they have by bein' stupid. Ya bring everthin' Ah ast ya to?'

Matt patted his backpack. 'Rope, hunting knife, camera, flashlights, flares, a compass, and some jars for bringing out samples.'

'If'n we get thet close,' Lewis muttered.

'You're a cheery one.'

Lewis just snorted and mounted the passenger seat of the Kawasaki.

'Go thet way,' he said, motioning to a muddy track that ran straight through the pitch-black field behind the house.

'This isn't really a dirt bike, you know,' Matt said. 'It's not built for driving through cow shit, either.'

'They's a path out there,' Lewis said. 'Good-size shortcut. Jes keep on goin' straight.'

Following the bike's slashing high beam, they jounced across the field and into the woods. For nearly twenty minutes they rode in silence, following what might have been an old logging road. It was difficult going with two, but Lewis was a surprisingly good passenger. He stayed centered and relaxed in his seat, and didn't try to help by leaning into turns.

The tar-black woods were eerie. Once a gigantic owl, probably a great horned, swooped through the high beam not ten feet ahead of them. The specter nearly stopped Matt's heart cold.

'A little chick,' Lewis chuckled.

As best Matt could guess, they were traveling due west, paralleling the tall hills that housed the mine on the other side. He expected the narrow track to vanish any moment, but it continued straight as a ruler through the dense forest. The mist was making it difficult to see through his Plexiglas visor, so he hooked his helmet to the handlebar.

'You sure you know where you're going?' he asked over his shoulder.

'Oh, Ah know.'

'How much longer?'

'Wer here. Cut the light.'

Matt did as he was told. Instantly, the ebony night enfolded them. Lewis held a finger to his lips. For several minutes they sat in what seemed to be a small clearing, and listened.

'From here on out we whisper,' Lewis said. 'Ah don' know if'n the mine's got people out here'r not, but Ah wouldn' be supprised. Their security men are the nastiest summabitches ya'd ever wanna meet.'

'Tell me about it. How far is the cleft?'

'A ways. That motorbike a yourn ain't exactly sneaky quiet.'

Matt pulled the bike off into the woods and secured it to a tree. Then he took his compass out of his jeans pocket and checked it with a penlight.

'Which direction's your farm?'

'Back thar.'

Southeast, Matt noted, maybe five miles.

'We go thet way,' Lewis said, motioning along the track.

They walked for ten minutes — about half a mile. From somewhere to the right they had begun to hear running water.

Overlaying it were the noises of insects and peepers, and the occasional call of an owl. The forest at night.

'Where's that stream go?' Matt asked.

'It cuts down inta the hill rot whar wer headed. Runs unner-groun' fer quite a ways, then comes out in the valley.'

'Where's it come from?'

'Runs past the farm. Thas all Ah know. Ready?'

'Ready.'

Lewis indicated a spot up ahead. Matt could make out a change in the darkness, but little else. Moments later he realized the change in shading was the steep side of a rocky hill. From their right, the stream, perhaps eight feet wide, raced into an opening in the rock.

'They's a bunch a ways inta the caves,' Lewis said. 'But this un's the cleft, an' that's what yer mystry man writ. It's also the one ain't likely ta be watched. Don' seem lak nobody's about, but we'd best keep it down jes the same.'

They stepped into the stream and ducked beneath a ledge to enter the hill through an opening that was about five feet high and three feet wide — the cleft. The water churned and deepened to their knees as it rolled through with them, then broke sharply to the right and over a foot-high drop to a long, dark pool.

'Lak Ah done said, this is jes one a the ways inta the hill,' Lewis whispered. 'They cain't brang the barrels in by this way, though. Too narrah with too many drop-offs.'

'Then how?'

'Some a t'other paths are wider, else they jes haul 'em back through the mine.'

'This tunnel goes all the way through the hill to the mine?'

'It does jes thet. Downhill all the way. The mine entrance is way below whar we are. The storage cave's plumb in the middle.'

'Lewis, how long has it been since you worked for the mine?'

'Well… we ain't done none for ten year or more.'

'I'm surprised they let you live, knowing what you do.'

'Oh, they considered sendin' men out, all rot, but then they got smart an' sent money instead.'

'They've been bribing you for ten years?'

'Ah s'pose ya could say that, yes.'

'Lewis, you know I'm going to close that dump down, if it takes the rest of my life.'

'Ah know.'

'Well, I don't know how much money you guys will lose when your payments stop, but I want to tell you how much I appreciate your doing this.'

'Ya bin good ta us,' Lewis said simply.

Matt panned his flash over the tunnel ahead. The walls, ceiling, and floor appeared to narrow like a corridor in Alice in Wonderland.

'How low and narrow does this get?' he whispered.

'Ya kin make it through,' Lewis said. 'Jes don't take no deep breaths.' He snickered.

'Lewis, I don't know how to tell you this, but I… I have trouble with tight, enclosed places. Always have. I get, like, panicky in them.'

'Now, whar in the hell did a Wes Verginny boy come up with their1 Ya gonna make it jes fine, Doc. They's only a few places whar yer gonna have ta crawl an' squeeze through.'

'Jesus,' Matt muttered.

'It's bin a while since Ah bin in here, so we'd best move slowly. Tain't the tight places ya got ta worry about. It's the drop-offs.'

Keeping their lights fixed on the damp stone floor, the two of them headed steadily downward into the mountain. The sound of running or falling water was a constant, at times seeming quite close, at times echoing through a side tunnel. Twice they had to press against a wall and walk sideways along the edge of a precipice. Once, Matt deliberately kicked some pebbles into the dark maw. The splash was barely audible.

'Ah don' thank y' wanna fall down thar,' Lewis said.

The narrow tunnel took a number of turns, and Matt began to wonder if they would have trouble making their way out again. But Lewis seemed to be moving with confidence through the stale, heavy air. Once, an especially low, tight passage forced him to his knees. Matt could not get down low enough and had to negotiate ten or twelve feet wriggling along on his belly, Marine style. His pulse instantly began pounding. He found himself thinking about cave hunters and wondering how they could possibly experience anything but terror traversing narrow slits in rock with no hope of being able to kneel, turn around, or even roll over, and no certainty that the way wouldn't suddenly end. The notion made him queasy and tightened the muscles between his shoulder blades.