Slocum Giant 2013 : Slocum and the Silver City Harlot (9781101601860) (19 page)

“John, John! They're trapped, aren't they? Randolph and Billy?” Marianne felt sick to her stomach and clung to herself, arms wrapped about her body tightly.

Ahead in the dust Slocum paid her no attention as he moved the feeble candle about, its flickering light hardly enough to see anything. Stumbling over the fallen rocks, she made her way forward until she could touch his shoulder. He jerked in surprise when her fingers gripped down with more force than she intended. One thing that had always drawn her to him was how he could concentrate. Sometimes, she wished he would concentrate more on her and less on everything else in the world.

But now she wanted him to save Randolph.

“Smitty used them to set dangerous charges,” Slocum said grimly. “They didn't know what they were doing, and this was the result.” He waved the candle around to indicate the destruction.

She reached out to steady his hand. Hot wax trickled over her fingers, making her flinch. She guided his hand back to the spot she wanted lit better.

“See that?” she asked.

“You've got good eyes,” Slocum replied. He moved closer to the darkness at the top of the rock fall blocking the mineshaft. The flame flickered and then moved in the direction of the hole. “They're getting air. The draft is carrying the flame in that direction.”

“That means there's a larger air hole on the other side of the rocks, doesn't it?”

“The miners burrowed into the hillside,” Slocum said, looking at the layers on the walls, then returning to the hole letting air flow deeper into the mine. “They wouldn't get this deep without ventilation.”

“There might be cracks in the rock all the way to the shaft,” she said. “Can we reach them that way or will it be easier to remove this rock wall?”

“Ain't no use tryin' to get through that 'less you want to blast some more,” Smitty said.

Slocum whirled around and started for the miner. Marianne stopped him. She felt Slocum's heart hammering in his chest as she pressed hard to keep him from ripping the miner's head off. It didn't calm her knowing he was so scared. Outwardly, he had a cold anger toward Smitty, but she felt how he was anything but cold inside.

“You mean blasting will only bring down more rock?” she asked, leaning hard against Slocum and not looking at the miner.

“No way of knowin' what the roof looks like deeper in the mine,” Smitty said. He spat. “Might take a month to dig out this rock. Might be lucky, and it'd only take a couple days.”

“They'll be dead by then,” Slocum said.

Marianne pressed harder against him and felt his heart beating even faster.

“We might get water through the air hole to them,” she said.

“Ain't nuthin' to tell us they're alive,” Smitty said.

Now it was Marianne's turn to want to rip the man's head off. She shoved Slocum back to let him know she'd take care of this. Swallowing her fear and directing it toward the miner, she said, “They're alive. Say anything different and it'll be
you
who's pushing up daisies in some unmarked grave.”

“Don't mean nuthin' by it,” Smitty said. “Plenny o' miners bought themselves a rock grave. More 'n a half dozen in the Argent, and this is one o' the better mines fer that. Hardly nobody dies.”

“And those boys you lured to work for you won't die either,” Marianne said. “Come with me, John. I want to find the air holes in the hill and call down to them . . . because they are still alive, dammit!”

She shoved Smitty out of the way and flounced off, head high. She had to duck more than once to avoid rocks jutting down from the roof. What seemed an eternity later, she burst into the open space in front of the mine. Fighting hysteria, she looked around, pushed her matted, dirty hair back out of her eyes, and then started walking to circle the hill where the mine gouged out its load of silver.

“Wait up,” Slocum called. “You're going off half-cocked.”

“That was never your problem, was it, John?”

“Marianne, use your head. We need to be methodical about how we find the air vents.”

“So? How do we do it?” She swept her arm about to take in the entire side of the hill. She paused, swallowed, and then pointed. “Like that? There?”

She didn't wait for Slocum to see what she already had. A fountain of dust had risen from the solid ground—only it couldn't be solid. The funnel of dust had to blow out from the mine. Scrambling up the rocky slope, barely avoiding patches of prickly pear cactus, she found the source of the dust.

“See, John? A crack in the rock. This must go straight down to the mineshaft where Randolph is!”

The boys would get plenty of air this way, but despair hit her like a solid body blow again as she realized the crack in the rock was too narrow for anything else.

“We can dribble water down. If they see it, they can catch it as it drips from the crack. We might stuff down food and—”

“Here, Marianne. I found a bigger vent.”

Eyes wide and hope soaring, she went farther up the hill to where Slocum worked to move a large rock. Beside it a large vent still spewed out dust. On the gritty cloud she caught the acrid stench of blasting powder. She remembered how Texas Jack would come to her bed reeking of it. He would always laugh it off and tell her it was the smell of money. Then they'd make love all night long, and she had come to associate the sharp scent with manliness.

Now the smell turned her stomach. Her son might be dead down below.

She dropped to her knees, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, “Randolph! This is Mama. Are you all right?”

She turned and put her ear close to the wide vent. For a moment she heard nothing, then she looked up at Slocum, excited.

“He's alive. That's his voice. Faint, but he said he and Billy are alive. But they're trapped, pinned under rock.” She laughed. “Of course they're trapped. They're in the mine that fell in on them. They're safe!” She laughed until she cried. The tears turned to sobs she couldn't control. Slocum took her in his arms, and it felt good, secure and safe again.

She finally pushed him away and asked, “How do we get them free?”

Slocum's reaction did not hearten her. He kicked at the edges of the vent and shook his head after a closer examination.

“We've got to find another way to reach them. This chimney is too small for me to wiggle down.”

“I'll go!”

Slocum looked at her as if she had gone crazy. This sparked her anger.

“What's the matter? Don't think I can get down there?”

“What'll you do when you get to them? Dig out?”

“If I have to! What would you do if you went down?”

“Get a rope around them, pull them up. They're likely small enough to fit in the chimney.”

“I couldn't pull them up. You're stronger.”

“They're buried under rock. There's no telling how injured they are.”

“Blood,” she said, “doesn't matter to me. I've seen plenty in my day. The boys can't get out from under heaps of debris. I can move rock because I have to.”

She wiggled to the vent and put her feet into it, then slid half in before Slocum could stop her. Marianne looked up, daring him to prevent her from saving her son.

“I'll get a rope. Don't go any farther until I tie it to you.”

“Good idea, John,” she said. “If I get stuck, you can pull me back up.” She graced him with a quick smile to speed him on his way. Then she scooted lower, testing the size of the rock chimney. She pushed herself back up and sat on the edge, chafing at the wait for Slocum to get back with a long rope. She had expected miners to come with him.

He answered her unspoken question as he looped one end of the rope around a boulder.

“They're working in the mine. They don't care about the boys.”

“I can't fit,” she said. “I tried it, and I'm too big.” She stood and started stripping off her skirts.

Slocum stared at her and moved to stop her.

“If I have to go down naked, I will, to save them.” She finished stripping off her skirts and then shucked her blouse so she stood dressed only in a thin shift.

“Leave your shoes on,” he said. “You'll skin up your feet otherwise. You're going to need to dig your toes into crevices on the way back up.”

“I'm depending on you, John.” She let him wrap one turn of rope around her. If the need to reach her son hadn't been so pressing, she would have enjoyed the feel of Slocum's hands moving over her barely clad breasts as he tied the rope. She gave him a quick kiss that tasted of sweat and grit, then stepped back into the rock chimney.

She almost fell the entire way. If it hadn't been for Slocum's quick jerk, she might have plunged down a full fifteen feet. The rope bit into her ribs, then abraded the skin under her arms.

“Randolph! I'm coming.”

“Ma, we can't move. The rock's piled on top of us.”

“What about Billy?”

“Dunno. He's still breathin', but he ain't awake. Hurry, Ma, hurry!”

“I'm coming real quick now.” She turned her feet sideways and slid down another foot before getting stuck.

Marianne sucked in her breath and held it. She slid over rough rock and then cried out when her feet kicked free. Hands shoved hard against the rough wall, she lowered herself another few inches, then called up to Slocum, “More slack. I'm almost there, but you're holding me back!”

She let out a whoop of glee when she fell the final few feet into the mineshaft. It was too dark to see more than a few inches. The light coming down the narrow chimney afforded little illumination, so she dropped to hands and knees and gingerly felt her way.

“Talk to me, Randolph, so I can find you.” Her hand touched hot, sweaty flesh.

She recoiled, then gently reached out and traced over the face. Billy McCarty. She had found Billy, and Randolph was right. The boy was knocked out but still breathed regularly. He couldn't be too severely injured. By feel she started moving the rocks atop him.

“Ma, I can see you silhouetted by the light. Billy's right in front of you.”

“I can feel where the rocks are holding him pinned,” she said.

Fingers groping, she scraped off skin as she began shoving away rocks covering the boy's lower body.

“Looks like you got him free, Ma.”

“I'll see if John can't drag him to the surface.”

She dug in her heels, glad that Slocum had suggested keeping her shoes on. She skidded and slid on the rough floor until she found purchase, then scooted Billy to a spot under the rock chimney. She took a quick turn around his body and fastened the rope under his arms with a granny knot.

“Can you pull Billy up?” she called. Her voice echoed and sounded strident. She cleared her throat and tried again, pitching her voice lower. Having Slocum think she was scared bothered her greatly. No matter that she had been through worse, and he had seen her then.

“Pulling. You keep him lined up so he doesn't get caught on any rock, and we'll have him out in a minute,” came Slocum's confident words.

She held the boy's feet together as he slumped in the rope sling, then began a jerky, halting rise to the surface. Marianne dropped back to hands and knees and crept forward until she reached her son.

“I been doin' some diggin', Ma,” he said. “I got one big rock I can't move. Other 'n that, I'm clear.”

“Why'd you do a crazy thing like running off to work in a mine?”

“The money, Ma. I wanted to give the sheriff money so he'd forget about lockin' you up.”

“Sheriff Whitehill set bail at one hundred dollars. You and Billy'd have to work for two solid months to get enough.” Her fingers slipped under the heavy rock. A quick heave budged it, but not enough. “Or was there more?”

“Well, see, Ma, Billy said there'd be all kinds of silver nuggets in the mine and—”

“You were going to steal the silver, weren't you?”

“It was for
you
, Ma. I had to do somethin' an' what else could I do?”

“Lend a hand. Three, two, one, heave!”

The rock slid away. Randolph cried out in pain.

“I think it's busted. My leg's broke.”

“There's no way I can set it here, even if I knew how. I saw your pa set a leg once, but I don't know how to do that. You're going to have to grit your teeth.”

Randolph cried out several times, ripping away at her heart. She finally got him to the air vent, where Slocum had dropped the line again. Marianne closed her eyes and steeled her heart against Randolph's piteous moans as Slocum dragged him up to the surface. She sat and shook. She had done it, though. She had rescued the boys.

“Marianne? You ready?”

The rope dangled down. She looped it around her body, made her way up the chimney, and finally popped out onto the rocky ground. She sat up and realized her thin shift had been tattered by the rough chimney walls, leaving her almost naked. Somehow it didn't matter. Slocum had Randolph stretched out on the ground, flat on his back as he examined the leg. Billy lay a few feet away, still unconscious.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

“This is just like the time I set Joshua Timmins's leg when he busted it falling out of that tree back in Georgia,” Slocum said.

“He didn't want his pa to find out he had played hooky,” she said, details bursting on her.

“Randolph's leg is about the same. A clean break. You grab hold of him under his arms, and I'll pull his leg.”

“Pull my leg,” Randolph said weakly. “This is gonna be funny?”

“Keep thinking that,” Slocum said.

When they were in position, Marianne looked up. Slocum nodded once. She leaned back, pulling hard on her son's arms as Slocum applied pressure directly on the leg. There was a grinding sound, then the boy screamed. Slocum sat back, released the leg, and looked satisfied.