Wonderland Creek

  Great! That was another catastrophe I hadn’t thought of—that we might get disoriented and confused and end up walking in the wrong direction without realizing it. There was no way to tell in the dark. I sat down on the cold stone floor beside the opening in the wall and waited for Mack to explore it. The mine entrance, I told myself repeatedly, was behind me.

  Mack was gone even longer than the last time. I hated waiting all alone. I began to sing to keep loneliness and fear at bay, and I chose—appropriately enough—the hymn “Rock of Ages.” It was comforting, even though I sang very softly.

  “Alice . . . ?” Mack’s voice sounded muffled and far away. “Alice, are you there?”

  I scrambled to my feet. “I’m right here . . . Can you hear me?”

  “Yes. Listen, I want you to turn around and walk back toward the mine entrance.”

  “What? Why?” He still sounded a long distance away and didn’t seem to be coming toward me. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?”

  “I think this might be the right place, so I’m going to light the lamp. You need to get away from here in case there’s an explosion.”

  “An explosion!”

  “Sometimes the gas builds up and the spark might set it off when I light a match.”

  “Mack, wait—!”

  “Just do it, Alice. Right now. Follow the tracks back a ways. If you don’t hear an explosion, wait five minutes, and then come back.”

  I did what he said, my knees trembling as I backtracked. This time the unbroken silence was welcome—it meant no explosion had occurred. Time passed, and I kept glancing over my shoulder, hoping to see the glow of Mack’s miner’s hat, but the same inky blackness filled the shaft in both directions. When I thought five minutes had passed, I turned around and walked back, feeling along the wall for the opening.

  “Mack?” I called when I finally came to the void. “Talk to me, Mack . . . I’m coming toward you, but I don’t see your light.”

  “This way . . .” He sounded miles away. “I’ll walk back to you. You should see my light in a minute.”

  I inched forward, my hand on the wall to guide me. “I still don’t see it . . . Keep talking to me . . .” The floor was very rough, more uneven than the floor of the main shaft had been. When the beam of light finally burst through the darkness, it nearly blinded me. I squinted and held up my hand to shade my eyes. Even so, a shining light had never looked so wonderful to me before. Mack aimed the beam down toward the floor so I could see where I was walking, then he turned and led the way once I caught up to him.

  “This way, Alice.” We could barely walk side by side in the narrow shaft. The ceiling was a mere inch above Mack’s head. The tunnel curved, continuing on for several yards before ending in a pile of rubble that had obviously fallen from a huge hole in the jagged, gaping ceiling.

  “This is where Hank died,” Mack said quietly. “You can see where they moved the rubble to dig out his body. And some of these rocks still have the drill holes in them.”

  I watched as Mack spent several minutes looking all around, shining his head lamp on the ceiling, on the wall at the end of the tunnel, on chunks of rubble. I had no idea what he was searching for. Mack probably didn’t know, either. When he turned to face me, I had to shield my eyes from the glare again.

  “There’s no coal here.”

  “Is that good or bad?” I asked.

  “It’s good as far as our investigation is concerned. It means that Hank’s death must have been staged. The investigators looked at how the charges had been set and if they were defective or not, but no one thought to look for a vein of coal. Why would the mining company tell Hank to set charges in this shaft if there wasn’t any coal?”

  “They wouldn’t unless they were setting a trap.”

  “Exactly!” I couldn’t see Mack’s face because of the blinding light on his hat, but I heard the triumph in his voice.

  “Are we all done? Can we get out of here now?” I had begun to shiver with cold and excitement and adrenaline.

  “Yeah. We can go.” But he took one last look around first, and I saw him wipe his eyes. His friend had died here. My friend Maggie’s husband. I rested my hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, Mack.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  He kept the light on as we made our way back down the narrow tunnel to the main shaft, then turned left to follow the tracks to the entrance. The shaft didn’t feel quite so claustrophobic now that I could see. And now that I knew we were on our way out instead of walking into the unknown. Neither one of us was breathing hard anymore.

  “I’d better turn out the lamp now,” he said when we reached the ore cart parked on the tracks. He took my hand again to keep me from stumbling in the dark. Fifteen minutes later, I was amazed to see light shining through the cracks in the boarded-up entrance to the mine. Was it dawn already? Or was the night sky that much brighter than the inside of the mine? Before I could ask, Mack grabbed me in a tackle and shoved me to the side, against the wall. He pulled me to the floor and crouched with me in a tight ball.

  Above the sound of our panicked breathing I heard a car engine running. The light came from headlights! I could hear rain pattering and the swish and squeak of windshield wipers. I held my breath, praying the guard wouldn’t be able to shine his flashlight to the side and see us. My teeth chattered as I quivered with fear. I heard voices, more than one, and strained to hear what they were saying.

  “Oh yeah? Well, how else would this board get broken off? I’m telling you, someone went into the mine.”

  “No one could fit through a hole that small. Must be an animal.”

  “You could fit. Try it.”

  “No, you try it.”

  Laughter. A brighter light poked through the opening we’d made and shone all around. I waited, enduring the longest minutes of my life.

  The talking stopped. Had they seen us? Two car doors slammed. I heard the engine fade as the car backed away. The headlights vanished and everything went still. I was about to speak when Mack touched his fingers to my lips. He put his mouth against my ear and whispered, “One of them probably stayed here. He’ll wait and see if we come out.”

  There was no way to know if Mack was right or not. We would have to stay hidden. I shivered uncontrollably. Mack held me tightly to keep me warm until my teeth finally stopped chattering.

  We waited and waited. I was tired from the long hike and the stale air and the unrelieved tension. I finally drifted to sleep in his arms as fear and exhaustion made my body shut down. I don’t know how much time passed before Mack nudged me awake. The shaft was growing lighter. The car had returned.

  “See anything?” someone called.

  “Nope. Haven’t heard a peep. Let’s go. I’m cold.”

  Mack had been right—someone had been watching the entrance.

  “We have to fix the hole first. I brought a board to seal it up.”

  Hammering. It went on and on until no more light penetrated the opening we had crawled through. We were trapped.

  “It’s okay,” Mack whispered in my ear. “We’ll get out.” At last the pounding ended. Soon the headlights and engine noise receded as the car pulled away. “We’ll need to wait a little longer to make sure,” Mack whispered. “Try to sleep some more.”

  Somehow I did manage to doze. I don’t know how much time passed before Mack nudged me again. He stood and went to the opposite side of the entrance from where they had made repairs and peered out through the cracks. He started kicking and prying at the wood to make an opening. Little by little, the boards gave way. The hole was even smaller than the first one, but I was so desperate to get out of that gloomy dungeon, I would have crawled through any opening.

  Freedom! Air! I inhaled deeply as the damp breeze tickled my skin. It was still raining, but it felt good to me. I was free!

  “Come on,” Mack said. He took my hand and led the way into the woods, stopping every few yards to call to Belle. She didn’t co
me. We wasted fifteen minutes searching for her, without any luck.

  “You forgot to tell her to wait for us this time,” I said.

  “I did? . . . Maybe all of that hammering scared her off. Or else the car engine spooked her. She isn’t used to cars.”

  “I’m betting it was the rain. Belle hates rain. She probably made a beeline for home as soon as our backs were turned. I guess Lillie’s love potion finally wore off and Belle no longer cares about winning your affections.”

  “Very funny.”

  Mack spent another few minutes tramping around in the brush and calling to her before giving up. The rain that had felt so good after leaving the mine, now felt cold and miserable. I was getting drenched. “Let’s go, Mack. I need a warm fire and dry clothes. We can walk home, can’t we?”

  “It’s a long way, you know.”

  “I don’t care. Where’s the trail? Lead the way.”

  The woods were a little lighter than the mine had been, but I still couldn’t see much. We were both weary from hiking through the mineshaft all night, and Mack still hadn’t recovered his full strength.

  We fumbled our way through the thick woods for half an hour when I simply couldn’t walk another step. “Can we stop and rest, Mack? I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted.”

  “That’s okay. I’m getting tired, too.”

  We found a large, damp rock and sat down on it, side by side.

  “There’s a shortcut we could take that’ll be faster—the road up to Maggie’s house. We would risk being seen, though.”

  “Who’s going to be driving up that road at this time of night?”

  “Hopefully no one. We can cut through the woods along the highway to get to it.”

  We finished resting and set off again. Mack soon found the narrow dirt road that led up through the woods to Maggie’s cabin. I had never been on it before. Mud puddles dotted the road in places, yet it still was much easier to hike on than the path through the thick trees and brush. We moved much faster. Before long, I saw the dim outline of the cabin and the hulking shape of the barn. Dawn was still a few hours away, but I heard squawking and flapping coming from the chicken coop directly in front of us. Had the hens heard us approaching? Mack pulled me to a stop.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He held a finger to his lips. I saw him tense. I stared in the direction that he was gazing in but didn’t see anything at all. When I looked up at Mack, his eyes were wide with fright. He wrapped one arm around my waist and began retreating slowly down the road, walking backward, pulling me with him. He was breathing hard again.

  “What is it?” Then I heard the mountain lion’s angry snarl. I smelled the animal, too—like the scent of a dozen feral cats. Its eyes flashed briefly, glowing in the dark, as it turned toward us. Mack didn’t have a gun.

  The cat began to move and came into sight. It was leaving the chicken coop and padding slowly up the road toward us. Mack pulled me tighter and whispered, “Don’t scream and don’t run. It’ll attack.”

  The wildcat continued to creep toward us, sniffing the air, stalking us. The books all say that your life flashes before your eyes when you’re staring at death, but my life didn’t flash—maybe because I hadn’t really lived it yet. Instead, I found myself staring into the future, desperately wanting to live, wanting to experience joy and sorrow, love and friendship. My life couldn’t end this way. I wanted to begin living it.

  The cat crept closer. It was only a few yards from us now, moving faster than we were able to back away. I was going to die, and I didn’t want to.

  Suddenly a gunshot cracked through the silence of the night. The cat leaped in the air as if trying to turn and run, then fell to the ground after only a few steps, its limbs twitching. I leaned against Mack in relief and began to sob.

  “Who’s there?” someone called. I recognized Maggie’s voice. She walked toward us wearing her nightgown and Hank’s hunting jacket, her rifle still raised, ready to fire again. I was so relieved, it never occurred to me that Mack should hide from her—that he was supposed to be dead.

  “Maggie! It’s us, Allie and Mack. Thank God you came when you did! You saved our lives!” I would have run to her, but Mack hung on to me, holding me back.

  Maggie halted in the middle of the road, some thirty feet from where we were, the dead wildcat lying in the road between us. Maggie was close enough that we could recognize each other in the faint light. But she didn’t lower her rifle.

  “Step aside, Allie. I don’t want to hit you, but I don’t plan on missing a second time.”

  “But you didn’t miss, Maggie, you shot it. See? The wildcat is dead.” Why was she still holding her gun to her shoulder, looking down the sight, pointing it at us?

  “I know the cat is dead. And now you need to step aside,” she said, “so I can finish him off.”

  “But—”

  “She’s not talking about the wildcat,” Mack said softly. “She means me. Maggie is the one who shot me.”

  “No. That’s not funny, Mack. Both of you, stop fooling around.”

  “Tell her, Maggie,” he said, loud enough for Maggie to hear.

  “He’s right. I’m the one who shot him. I thought I’d killed him, but I see I was wrong. I won’t miss this time.”

  I instinctively moved in front of Mack, shielding him. I didn’t think my heart could possibly beat any faster, but it did. “But . . . but why, Maggie? You’re such a kind, loving person. I’ve seen the way you take care of Hank’s mother and little Feather, and I know Mack well enough by now to know he isn’t the villain.” I felt dizzy and feared I might faint. I didn’t want to believe that Maggie would shoot Mack—now or the first time. “Why would you do this? What did Mack ever do to you?”

  “He came back here, that’s what he did. It’s his fault that Hank died.”

  “Listen, if I could do it all over again, Maggie, believe me, I would do things differently.” Mack sounded breathless, as though he had just run up a steep hill. “I know I was wrong to get Hank involved. But listen, Alice and I just came from the mine. We found proof that his death wasn’t an accident. If you let me take the evidence to Washington, they’ll send an inspector up here and put the real culprits in jail.”

  “And then what? Is that going to bring Hank back to me?”

  “No,” Mack breathed. “No, it won’t bring him back. I’m so sorry, Maggie.”

  She was still pointing the gun at us. I knew what a crack shot Maggie was. She could wound me in the arm or leg and then finish off Mack after I fell to the ground.

  “Y-you don’t want to do this, Maggie,” I stammered. “They’ll put you in jail for murder.”

  “I don’t care. Miss Opal won’t live much longer. She might rest easier if she knows that the man responsible for Hank’s death is dead, for real this time.”

  “But Mack didn’t kill him. The mining company did!”

  “No, Maggie’s right,” Mack said. “Hank would still be alive if it hadn’t been for me. I blame myself every single day for what happened to him, so why shouldn’t she blame me, too?”

  “Shut up, Mack,” I hissed, poking him with my elbow. “Please, Maggie . . . You have your whole life to live. Don’t throw it away on revenge.”

  Maggie gave a short laugh. “What do I have? Nothing! I’m going to join Hank and Rhoda Lee in the graveyard right after I send Mack to hell. Now step out of the way, Allie. You’re my friend, and I would hate to shoot you, but I will if I have to.”

  “No . . . please don’t!” I wanted to live, and I wanted Mack and Maggie to live, too.

  Suddenly I saw a flicker of movement alongside the cabin. A dark figure burst out of the shadows behind Maggie and raced straight toward her. Before I could react, the figure plowed into Maggie and tackled her to the ground. The gun fired with a loud crack. Mack’s arms went limp and he dropped to the ground behind me.

  “No! Mack, no!” I sank down beside him, weeping, shaking him. “Mack? Please be okay . . . p
lease!”

  “I’m okay,” he breathed. “She missed me. I’m just . . . I’m just . . .” He covered his face. His shoulders shook with tears of relief.

  Maggie’s gun!

  I scrambled to my feet and ran over to scoop up the rifle. I was stunned to see that the person who had tackled Maggie was June Ann Larkin. She lay on the ground beside Maggie, panting. “Are you okay?” I asked them.

  “Why did you stop me?” Maggie moaned. “Why? You shouldn’t have stopped me!”

  June Ann slowly sat up, pulling her dress down over her bare legs. She wasn’t wearing any shoes. “Listen, Miss Maggie. You took good care of my baby and I’m grateful. But Alice is the only friend I have in the whole world. I couldn’t stand by and let you shoot her.”

  “What are you doing out here in the woods in the middle of the night?” I asked June Ann.

  “I come over here all the time to be close to Feather. Some nights I sleep out here so I can hear her. I ain’t very good at taking care of Feather myself, but I love her just the same.”

  I crouched down to give June Ann a hug, holding the rifle well away from us. “I’m so glad you were here tonight. You saved Mack’s life.”

  Maggie rolled to one side and struggled to stand. I handed the rifle to June Ann and reached to help Maggie, but she pushed me away. “No! Let me go! Leave me alone!”

  “I won’t, Maggie. I care about you.” I fended off her blows as I tried to pull her into my arms. “I won’t let you go.”

  She finally stopped resisting and sagged into my embrace, weeping on my shoulder.

  I stayed with Maggie, trying to comfort her as she mourned Hank’s death all over again. June Ann disappeared into the night as silently as she had appeared, taking Maggie’s rifle with her. Mack vanished, as well.

  Nothing I said to Maggie could console her, so eventually we went inside the cabin where I simply held her and let her cry. The sky was growing light when the baby woke up and began to fuss. Maggie dried her eyes and went to her. I stoked the stove so she could heat a bottle of milk, then watched Maggie feed Feather, rocking in the chair beside the stove. Neither of us said much; there simply weren’t any words that could express Maggie’s sorrow or my sympathy.