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Exhausted, she looked up at the crows, flocking to the trees close by. The horrible sleet and rain had gone, leaving the wheatgrass glistening with raindrops. They danced like diamonds with each gust of wind. She stared into the deep blue sky and watched one single white cloud drift by. Exhaustion gripped her, so profound all she wanted to do was bathe in the rays of the sun and close her eyes. Slowly she drifted away, in peace.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Fighting waves of nausea, Styles pushed into a sitting position as he slipped off his backpack and grabbed a water bottle and his flashlight. “Pass me some Tylenol and can you check my pupils? I won’t be able to fly the chopper if I have a concussion.”
“Your pupils are reacting normally to light.” Beth flicked the flashlight back and forth and then found the pain meds and handed them to him. She squeezed his arm and pushed a lock of hair from his brow. “Sit for a beat. You were unconscious, and it takes time for our brains to switch back on when something weird happens.” She rubbed one shoulder and winced.
Realizing he’d looked over at Bear, wagging his tail and jumping on the spot, to check he was okay but hadn’t asked aboutherwell-being, Styles touched her arm. “Beth, your shoulder is hurting, isn’t it? Do you want me to take a look?”
“Nope, I’m fine.” Beth grabbed two Tylenol and swallowed them with water. “It just made my fingers numb for a time. I’ll get some ice on it when we get home. I’m more worried about you.” Her gaze slid over him and she bit her bottom lip. “You took a bad fall. I thought you’d broken your neck. I need to get you out of here.” She moved the flashlight around the narrow tunnel. “From what I can see, the shaft we fell down was likelyused for ventilation. It doesn’t have any ladders or anything and the sides look smooth, so climbing out that way will be impossible.”
Looking all around, Styles noticed broken tools and other miners’ equipment lying around from a century ago. He could clearly make out parallel lines made of steel peeking through the dirt-covered floor, the metal rusty and blending in with the colors on the ground. “Not necessarily. There’s an old track here, so the miners pushed carts along them. We could follow and hope to find a way out, but the mineshaft is the best way to get out of here.” He looked at Beth. “I’ll try and climb out. I have rope in the chopper I can lower it down so we can haul Bear out and then you.”
“Why not just follow the tracks?” Beth pointed her flashlight down the tunnel.
Unsteady, Styles stood slowly and leaned against the wall until the dizziness subsided. He recovered fast in most situations, and they needed to get out of this hole right now. “We might follow it for miles and find it’s been sealed at the other end or encounter rockfalls, bears, or anything else. Yeah, we could shoot them, but the noise could cause a cave-in. I’ll put on my backpack and try and walk my way up the shaft. I’ve done similar things before and there’s roots growing all over. They’ll make good footholds. Worse case, I fall back down, so keep out of the way. I don’t figure you’d survive me falling on you from way up there.” He looked at her. “Will you be okay down here alone? It’s not the best place to be trapped.”
“I’ll have Bear.” She rubbed the dog’s ears. “He’s an amazing dog. He snuggled up to you and licked your face.”
Styles nodded. “Yeah, he is, but it’s part of their breeding. They nurture, so will protect those they care about. So you’ll be fine. He won’t allow anything to happen to you while I’m gone.”
“That’s good to know.” Beth helped him with his backpack. “Why wear the backpack? Won’t it get in the way?”
Styles shook his head. “Nope it will help clear the shaft. I’ll go up backward, pressing my hands and feet on each side. Let’s just hope it works. If I can’t make it out, I might get bars closer to the top of the shaft and will call for assistance.” He frowned. “Ty Carter would be the closest and most experienced chopper pilot. He’d be able to drop a harness down here and haul us out.”
“Okay.” Beth’s expression was serious. “Take it slow. You still look sick. Maybe you should wait a little longer?”
Smiling to reassure her, Styles hauled himself up the vines hanging down the walls and backed into the shaft. He’d walked up very slippery rock walls similar to this many times. The vines would be an advantage and he edged his way up, one step at a time. His head throbbed and the cut on his forehead dribbled blood into his right eye. Without a free hand to wipe it, he blinked away the thick red screen blocking his vision and pressed on. Muscles burning with overexertion and screaming for him to take a break, he pushed through the pain. Stopping would mean disaster because starting again with muscles cramping would be suicide. It seemed to take forever before light illuminated the walls and he gripped the edge of the shaft. Taking a firm grip of the roots of a dead bush, he swung his legs down and pulled himself onto the grass. He lay on his back for a few moments staring at the sky and sucking in great lungfuls of clean air. Crawling to his feet, he shook out the cramps and bent over the shaft. “I’m going to get the rope. I won’t be long.”
He stood for a few seconds, staring around. If the woman had been shot close by, he couldn’t see her from his position, but he could make out the way they’d come previously by the trampled wheatgrass. To one side of the shaft was a cottonwood tree sitting alongside a dry riverbed. He walked cautiously toward it, checking the ground before him. He could use the tree with apulley system he carried in the chopper to haul Beth and Bear out of the mine. Without delay, he dumped his backpack and took off back to the chopper.
Carrying everything he needed over one shoulder he made fast time returning to the mineshaft and securing the pulley system. He dropped down the end of the rope. “Okay, Beth. Attach the rope to Bear’s harness. He won’t want to leave you, so tell him to find me. Okay?”
“Yeah.” Beth’s voice sounded a long way away as she coaxed Bear toward the shaft. “Come on Bear, good boy. Don’t fight me.” Beth tugged on the rope. “He’s good to go.”
Styles flexed his muscles and hauled the dog to the surface. After untying Bear, he dropped the rope down the shaft again. Beth’s injured shoulder would be a problem. He wiped the blood from his eyes and grabbed hold of the rope. “Tie it around your waist and walk up the side of the shaft, use the tree roots to pull yourself up. I won’t let you fall.”
“Okay, I’m ready but you’ll need to pull me into the shaft, I can’t reach it. I’m not tall enough.” Beth sounded concerned. “It’s awful dark down here without the flashlight.”
Surprised the dark worried her, Styles peered down the hole. “Bend your knees and spring up. Okay, on three—one, two, three, jump.” He leaned back and pulled hard, lifting Beth and her backpack into the shaft. The rope slackened as she gripped hold of the vines. He leaned back and hauled in the rope hand over hand. “There you go. Keep climbing. I’ll pull you up.”
Relief flooded him when her blonde head popped up, covered in cobwebs and leaves. He hauled her over the edge and they both lay in the grass panting with Bear determined to lick them all over. Styles rolled over and untied the rope from around her waist. “Exhausted as we are, we need to go and see if he’s killed the woman. That was a shot we heard and we can’t leave until we’ve checked it out.”
“We’ve got no hope of finding her on ground level.” Beth sat up slowly, brushing dirt from her hands and looking all around. “I’m sure as heck not risking falling down another mineshaft. I checked the maps and there was no mention of any shafts from the woods to those trees.”
Styles got slowly to his feet and rolled up the rope. He took the pulley from the tree and handed it to her, then picked up his backpack. “Unregistered mines, I guess. I agree with you. We’ll take up the bird and look for a body. There are no mines alongside the highway. If we see anything, I’ll set the chopper down there and we can go and take a look.” He pointed to the track in the wheatgrass. “Stay behind me and walk in my steps. Bear, by me.” He headed off toward the chopper.
THIRTY-NINE
Eyes gritty from being in the mine, Beth scoured the area alongside the highway. She noticed something close to a dilapidated barn. “I see something. I’m sure it’s a body. There, near that old barn. There’s a road on the other side. Is it wide enough for you to land?”
“Yeah, as long as I can get the skids down safely on solid ground and that road has a blacktop. I can’t see any trees close by or overhead wires. We’re good to go.” Styles took the chopper down.
The smell of blood came on the breeze as they rushed toward the body. She looked alive, her hair moving in the breeze, and Beth bent to check life signs, but she was gone. Sorrow gripped her and she looked at Styles. “Her name was Cheyenne, such a lovely name, and here she is lying face down in a pool of blood. Dumped like yesterday’s garbage. We must stop this maniac.”
“There’s no signs of anyone else being here.” Styles followed the girl’s path through the wheatgrass and then turned back. “There’s only one track made by her.”
Cheyenne had been shot in the back of the head, but from the outstretched hand, she’d remained alive for a few minutes after the shooting. Beside the hand was a scratch game floatingin the blood and marks as if she’d tried to write something. The sight angered Beth. A senseless waste of life they could have prevented if they hadn’t fallen down a mineshaft. As Styles came to her side, she pointed to the squiggles on the concrete beside the woman’s hand. “Another scratch game, and look here, she’s tried to write something. It’s a name. It starts with aW. Can you make it out?”
