IN FOUR DAYS (Saga Three — Day Three)
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DAY THREE…
That voice.
It was the same voice from Billy’s dream.
When the elevator platform set down at the bottom of the Regis Shaft, Billy Sharp didn’t move. He was frozen in terror and locked in dread. The others panicked and scrambled for the metal-grid door.
“You are just having guilt, Billy-boy.” Brett had chided him when he told him of the scare he had the night before. They had just jumped into the van and were on their way to pick up Dominic at the hotel .
“NO! I am telling you it was like she was right there in our hotel room again. Sherri rose up from the sheets and her face… All around her mouth, the skin started to sag and melt. It dripped down her chin, her teeth showing through, her lips stretched out all weird. She reached up at me and then moaned, ‘In four days, you will be with Her.’ I don’t even know what the hell that means.”
Brett laughed , “See! That’s what dreams are like, man. Everyone speaks in riddles, every object is supposed to be some kind of symbol or emotion. Of course, you are going to have nightmares about her.”
He shook his head, refusing the simple explanation. He mumbled under his breath, “I never dreamed of any of the others.”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH! RULE NUMBER ONE!” He roared and yanked the steering wheel to the right, guiding the van over to the shoulder to stare at his kid brother. He took a moment to compose himself and form his words carefully.
“We never really hurt the others… With Sherri, well, she was different. It was an accident — nothing more, nothing less.” He brushed his bangs back with his hand.
Billy turned and looked out the window, dropping the debate.
Now in the Foxworth Mines, his horrific vision was coming to life.
In four days , you will be with Her.
You will be with Her in three days…
Dominic went back in and ushered him out of the platform. The tourists and Brett were standing under a lit lamp, clustered close in one of the Shaft’s entrances. The two kids were crying against their mother’s legs.
Finally, Cortnie broke free of the group and stood apart, facing them. “Well, we cannot stay here folks. Everyone check their phones and see if they have reception by some miracle. We need to call for help.”
Dominic stated, “No reception on mine.” Several others mimicked his response.
“We got to find a way out of here.” An older man said. He walked with a cane and had a slight limp.
“I am sure they had other exits, Mr. Gerard, but let’s see if we can get some help first.”
“This is bullshit!”
Everyone focused on the source: Rory’s heavy-set father.
He had his arm around his wife’s shoulders, more possessively than trying to protect her. “Yeah, that’s what I said. You punks did this. Should be ashamed of yourselves, scaring women and children like that!” His voice got louder as the rant continued.
“What are you saying?” Dominic asked.
“Mr. Phelps, this is not helping.” Cortnie interjected.
“You trumped up this whole idea for your freak show. We know what you do — it’s all gimmicks and effects.”
“Stupid asshole!” Brett hissed. “I wish I had the budget for something like this. Whatever that was, it wasn’t anythi–“
“–you went too far. You crossed the line scaring my kids!” Phelps dropped his arm off his wife and barreled into the crowd, charging Brett. He caught him in his vice-like grip and plowed him back into a series of shelving. The two wrestled as the others struggled to pull them apart.
None of them noticed Rory running away in the dark. Bethany hesitated, struggled in indecision and then followed after her little brother. `
Rory always hated times like this. His father, Chuck Phelps, had an ugly temper and an even uglier tendency to scream and shout when “Things are to be done the right way or Hell is the price.” He dealt out Hell’s punishment often on his wife and children. As of late since he was in between construction contract and money was drying up fast, Rory and his older sister, Bethany, made themselves scarce.
Running and hiding had been Rory’s only answer to the tirades and beatings. He raced blindly into one of the gloomy tunnels away from the adults. Nothing would find him or hurt him if he could just find the perfect spot.
He was so intent and focused that he didn’t hear his sister call after him. Bethany was scared of Mr. Boots and she was scared of her father like Rory, but she was more scared of losing Rory. He wouldn’t answer so she trailed away into the mine after him.
Brenda wailed, not in anger, but a sobbing, grief-stricken moan. “Where-where are they? He’s got my babies!”
The fight ended immediately and the others twisted to look back at the middle-aged mother with straight, brunette hair and a thin, fragile frame. She was crying into her hands.
“Gone. Gone. Gone . Just like the guard. Gone!”
She crumbled down to her knees and then fainted onto a set of rusted mine tracks.
The other adult female reached her first. She cradled Brenda’s head in her lap as Cortnie gave her the clip board to fan with. “Carol, use this to cool her down.”
Chuck cupped his hands, “BETHANY! RORY! WHERE ARE YOU?”
“Shit! Stop that, man! Do you want that thing to find us?” Brett snapped.
Dominic glared back at the Sharp brother, “No, you shut up! The man’s kids are out there by themselves.”
Mr. Gerard proposed, “We should split into teams and go look for them. They are going to get hurt by themselves.”
“That is a bad idea. We would all get lost then in these tunnels.” The last tourist said bluntly. He was an older Hispanic gentlemen with patches of grey at his temples and in his mustache. “I saw something that said there are over a 100 miles–“
“–197 miles all under 1200 feet of earth and stone.” Brett interrupted.
Billy had been looking along the walls and shelves inside their tunnel for some lamps or any kind of torches but found something even better.
“Guys! Guys, look over here.” He shouted to them.
They quickly joined the younger Sharp brother. Etched into a floor-to-ceiling, copper plaque was the layout of the major tunnels and caverns of the Foxworth Coal Mines.
“Our phones may not get reception, but they can still take pictures!” With that, Billy snapped a shot of the map. “We can go in teams to different tunnels or caverns and then meet back here in two hours. Everyone take a picture. OH! And look there, once we get the kids back, there is a set of tunnels that lead out to a Bresswick Quarry.” He pointed to two, descending and long twisting tunnels on the map.
“Carol, you and I will take this tunnel.” Cortnie volunteered, her finger traced along one easterly tunnel.
“We will go this way.” Brett pointed to an opposite tunnel system.
“Then Anthony and I will escort the Phelps in this tunnel,” offered the elderly Mr. Gerard.
Cortnie held up her phone, “Everyone set their phones for two hours from now. We will look and then rejoin here… in the Calvert Chamber when our alarms go off. We can go into different areas then if we haven’t found them yet. Agreed?” She gave Brett a very direct and telling stare.
“Yes. Yes.” He answered her and brushed his bangs back.
The air was stale and hard to breath in, but Bethany knew she had to continue. This was not safe at all. Not just for the dangers of the mine — she had a vague sense of what those would be: getting lost, falling on something hidden in the shadows, even rocks falling from the roof possibly. But it was the other danger she feared more. She knew deep down that Mr. Boots could be hunting them. She had no idea why or even what he would do to her, but she wasn’t going to let him get her brother.
She carefully walked along the coal mine tracks. Some of the tunnels were lit with long strings of lights; others were pitch black and intimidating. She could almost feel something watching her from their entrances. Her skin prickled, goosebumped with electricity in the air.
Bethany felt as if someone waited eagerly for her to come into their embrace inside the coal shafts. She skirted quickly by those and stuck with the lighted tunnels.
“Rory! Rory… Come here, we have to get back!” She called out.
Don’t. Don’t call. You will bring Him.
“Hello?” She asked aloud in surprise.
She leaned over and peered deep into a tunnel branching off the to the left. The entrance face was shrouded in shadows. “Who’s there?”
There was no response, but her eyes seemed to pick up some minute movement.
“RORY?”
No. You must turn back, go into the tunnel on the left side.
Bethany looked over her shoulder at the way she came. Around the bend, she remembered another lit tunnel. She chose not to go down that one because she saw several burned out light sections.
The young girl hesitated. She may be the older of the two siblings, but not by much, and searching these tunnels alone had been the bravest thing she had ever done in her short life.
I will go with you.
Bethany snapped her head back to find herself facing a small boy, dirty with charcoal smudges and greasy oil splotches on his overalls. She shrieked and fell back against the rocky wall and sat down hard.
He slowly raised one hand and put a finger to his bluish lips.
I know the way. I know where he is hiding.
“You–you won’t hurt us?” Her eyes watered, she’d had scratched her back upon the rocks.
The little Trapper shook his head.
He walked past her without a further word. Sniffling, she brushed off her jeans and ran to catch up with the boy.
“How did you get down here? Are you lost too?”
The boy proceeded into the other not-so-well lit tunnel without responding to her questions.
Within another ten or so minutes and several twists and turns, they came to where two more tunnels branched off. He stood with his arm outstretched and pointed down the right fork. About a hundred or so feet inside, she spotted several abandoned, empty miner carts that were parked near the wall.
In the second car.
Taking the boy’s word, Bethany ran to it and peered inside. “Rory?”
The little seven-year old had been curled up in a fetal position. He blinked up at her.
“It’s okay. Are you alright?”
“Am I in big trouble?” he whispered.
Sighing heavily, she held out her hand to haul him up and out of it. “Mom will just be happy to see us.”
“Not talking about Mom.”
It took all her strength to help him out of the tall cart.
“Thank you for finding my brother,” she called out. She circled about, scanning the tunnel, but no one was there. The boy had mysteriously disappeared as silently as he had come to her.
“Who are you with?”
“I… I am, uh, not sure.” She shook her head and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter I guess. Give me your hand. When we get back, just cry your head off and blame that Mr. Boots for making you scared okay? That will stop Dad.”
“But it was hi–“
“–I know, but trust me. This will be better.”
Before Rory could reply, from out of the shadows, something big and black bolted into them. It knocked Bethany right off her feet and grabbed Rory by the collar of his shirt.
“NOOO!” Bethany screamed after it as the black furry creature ran deeper into the mine tunnel carrying away her brother in its slobbering, canine jaws.
His cries and pleas of terror echoed after them.
