Fred dropped Braxton off near the old Rockland place, neighboring the parsonage. Then he drove away to join Ed and the rest of the hunting group who were looking near the creek, and searching north.
Somehow, Braxton was drawn to look at the old place. He had played there as a child and knew it well.
As Braxton neared the uninhabited homestead, he thought, This old place was derelict when I was a boy. Anything could happen here… a floor could give way, or something could fall and hit the boy. It should have been torn down long ago.
Hobbling on his crutch, he listened for sound, any sound. He put his skill as a hunter to use and looked for any fresh disturbance to the place… a broken board, any fresh earth, footprints.
Peering inside, he walked where he could, the old floors creaking as he limped around, calling for Sam, whistling for Henry. Bushes and plants were growing into the openings where windows and doors once existed. A wall and part of the roof in the back had collapsed, opening the room to the sky above. The damage looked old, with moss and small plants growing on the ruins of the room.
For about an hour he examined the place quite methodically. He even found the old root cellar, partially obscured by blackberry bushes. Nothing. Not wanting to give up, he limped out to the back of the place, tired and sore, but determined to find the child if he could.
Looking out at the Hennacy’s property which ran near the base of the mountain, the cattle seemed content, while the bull seemed undisturbed as he grazed. Nothing seemed out of place.
He was about to give up when he spotted fresh dirt. Not a lot of it, at first, just a small patch of it near some blackberry bushes. Interested, he hobbled over to take a better look.
Near the base of the blackberry bushes, he noticed some old boards lying cockeyed across a fairly large hole in the ground, about four feet wide.
Braxton’s heart beat hard. It’s the old well!
As he neared, the ground started to give way and he stopped cold. He could see there had been a fresh collapse already.
“Sam? Sam are you there?” he called near the hole, frustrated that he couldn’t get closer to look in. Sam didn’t answer, but he could hear whining coming from the depths.
“Good boy! Stay!” Braxton commanded, fearful the dog would upset whatever was happening down there.
Did Sam die in the fall? Is he badly injured? Is he even there? It could be just the dog, but whatever it is, it’s a clue and I need to get help here and right now!
Braxton looked around for anyone nearby and spotted Ed and the guys in the distance, walking among the cattle out on the Hennacy’s place. They appeared to be following a branch of the creek.
“Help! Over here! Help!” he yelled as loud as he could, putting his fingers together and giving out a shrill whistle.
Ed thought he heard something and looked up to see Braxton waving his crutch, yelling.
Abruptly, the men started to run. Time seemed sluggish as they ran across the field toward the fence. Leaping it and breathing hard, they continued to sprint the rest of the way towards the man frantically waving.
“I’ve found the dog, I think! The boy might be down there with him,” he yelled as they got closer. “Stay back! Don’t get too close! The ground’s not stable here. Someone’s got to get a ladder, rope and other things. Call the fire department. Get someone here quick!” he stated trying to remain calm.
Ed used the walkie-talkie he’d been given. “Stanton, can you hear me? This is Ed. We think we found the boy!”
The static sound of Stanton’s voice responded, “Where?”
“At the old Rockland place. There’s been a slide into the old abandoned well out here, some broken boards. We can hear a dog down there, but no response from Sam.”
“We’re on our way.”
Soon, sounds of the emergency responders grew louder as the vehicles quickly descended on the old farmstead. The fire truck was quickly followed by the police cruiser as they drove over the fields and into the back of the rundown building, where the men were standing.
At the parsonage the Madison’s could see Harley Comstock running. “We think we found him… he’s down an abandoned well. Follow me!” he cried as he turned and lead the way.
Marty placed her hands over her mouth in dread, and then they both followed at a run, soon arriving at the now crowded site.
A long ladder had been set over the hole while Michael Hagerty, a volunteer and paramedic suited up in a harness and carefully crawled over the rungs, trying not to dislodge any more dirt and rocks.
Using his flashlight he looked into the deep hole beneath him, spotting the boy, “I see him! He’s down there lying on some broken boards about fifty feet down. I don’t know how deep this thing is. Just a sec... someone give me a rock, about the size of a baseball.”
Taking the rock he turned back and said, “Quiet! Keep still for a moment…” then he counted the seconds after dropping the rock. The crowd waited silently, listening to the stone sounding its way to the bottom, falling, until it stopped.
Mike told the crowd, “Looks like there’s another hundred feet or so below him. The boards are jammed against a rock outcropping at a forty-five degree angle, but I don’t know how securely. Once you lower me down, I need someone up here on the ladder to watch my descent. They need to judge the distance and be sure I don’t run into those boards and knock them loose.”
A group of resolute men grabbed the rope attached to Mike, while he readied himself. Lying on his stomach, he carefully swung himself over the ladder and the men let out the rope, allowing him to descend into the dark, damp hole.
With his flashlight, he tried to keep an eye on the child, but he was swinging uncontrollably and swirled around helplessly at the end of the rope as he descended, dangling far from the bottom.
Getting closer, he worried the dog might dislodge everything if it should suddenly move before he could reach the boy.
Henry was still lying next to Sam, his tail thumping, dislodging some of the soil and rocks that had come down with them and making a deadly tinkling noise as it slid off the boards and into the depths below.
I’ve got to get to the boy first. The dog’s going to have to wait.
Mike’s heart broke for the poor beast, should he fall into the depths below, but he had to rescue Sam.
How can you ask a dog to lay still? he wondered as he got close. They can’t understand the dangers.
But Henry didn’t get up when Mike reached them. It was as if the dog knew they were in danger. He just licked the rescuers hand as the paramedic felt for the boy’s pulse, trying to ascertain his injuries, and without losing him to the depths below.
Sam was unconscious, but alive. He had a weak pulse and his temperature was low, too low. Carefully lifting the boy into his arms and securing him, the rescuer yelled to be pulled up.
Henry stood up barking, as Sam was taken from him. More dirt fell, dangerously.
Once Mike reached the top and the boy was taken from him, he asked to be lowered again to rescue the dog.
Down he went, the men still working hard to hold his weight. With his flashlight he spotted the dog still on that precarious platform, barking and whining.
Mike spoke calmly, to reassure the dog, hoping he could get there in time, but the boards suddenly gave way and down went Henry into the dark with a loud clatter to the bottom.
Mike’s heart sank, sickened by the site of the faithful dog dropping out of sight.
“Henry! Here boy? Henry!” he called, hoping the dog had survived the fall. Silence, then a soft whimper was heard.
“Lower me! Get me down there! I think the dog’s still alive!”
Down he went further into the pitch black depths of the old well, as the damp smell of the earth and the bone chilling cold grew stronger, and the light from above diminished. The sound of dripping water grew louder as he tried to see from the small ray of light he held in his hand.
Looking down his heart stopped as he spotted the dog. Henry was ali
ve alright, but he wasn’t alone. There was a body with him - one that had been there for a very long time.
Seeking The Truth