The Graves of Plague Canyon (The Downwinders Book 3) (9 page)

“Shit,” Winn said. “Stare at Deem all you want, Lyman.”

“Do you know what he meant by Left Hand?” Deem asked Carma.

“The Left Hand mine, on the Kaiparowitz plateau,” Carma answered.
“In the early 1900s, trapping gifteds in the mine and asphyxiating them was a
favorite pastime of Porter’s gang, when they weren’t out hunting apostates. If
this guy with the vacuum box was on the outs with Porter, that might be why he
was killed.”

“Are we talking about Porter Rockwell?” Deem asked as they
walked back into the basement.

“We sure are,” Carma replied.

“Didn’t he die back in the late 1880s?” Deem asked.

“He did,” Carma answered, “but he still controls a strong
group of Danites to this day, and they’re just as bloodthirsty and savage as
they were a hundred years ago. Rockwell killed on orders from Joseph Smith and
Brigham Young, and he still takes his orders directly from Salt Lake. He and
his boys eliminated large groups of rival gifteds using a variety of brutal methods.
Trapping them in Left Hand was one of them, until word got out and people wised
up to it.”

They arrived upstairs and walked to the drawing room.

“I wonder what makes Lyman think this guy had the vacuum box
on him when he died?” Deem asked.

“He said it was right after they traded,” Winn replied.

“Lyman is usually right about these things,” Carma said.

“So we go retrieve it? From Left Hand mine?” Deem asked.

“Unless we can find a vacuum box some other way,” Winn
answered.

“Well, take gas masks,” Carma replied. “Who knows how the
asphyxiation occurred!”

“Carma, Lyman said it had six sides,” Deem asked. “Do you
remember now if you ever saw it? Did that jog your memory?”

“Once Lyman described it, the image came back to me, like a
revelation!” Carma said, smiling.

“Do you think you could draw it?” Deem said. “I could take a
picture of your drawing and send it to my friends in Seattle. If we don’t find
one in the mine, we’ll want them as backup.”

“I’ll try,” Carma said. “Let me get some paper.” Carma walked
off in the direction of the office.

“Are you going to stay here tonight?” Deem asked Winn.

“If Carma will allow me,” Winn replied.

“You know she will,” Deem said. “She calls the room you sleep
in ‘Winn’s room’.”

“Still, in the interest of staying welcome, I intend to ask,”
Winn replied.

“Of course,” Deem said. “I wasn’t implying you shouldn’t
ask.”

“Kaiparowitz is a couple of hours away,” Winn said. “If we’re
going to go up there tomorrow morning and be back in time for your date, we’ll
have to leave early.”

Carma returned with a sketchpad and large kit of drawing
pencils. “Look what I found!” she said, sitting next to Winn and opening the
pencil kit. “I saved it from my drawing days. I fancied myself an artist for a
few years a while back.”

“You draw?” Winn asked. “I’d like to see some of your
drawings.”

“You’re about to see my rendition of a vacuum box,” she
replied. “That will have to do. I’m not going to dig through my old drawings,
they’re too amateur. Don’t wouldn’t wait up for me to finish this; it might
take hours to complete. I’ll leave it for you on the dining table.”

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Deem replied, yawning. “Just
enough to give them an idea what to look for.”

“You’re reminding me of why I put the pencils away years
ago,” Carma said, inspecting the pencil tips. “My frustration with perfection.
You’re staying the night, aren’t you Winn?”

“If you’ll have me,” he replied.

“Go to sleep, both of you,” Carma said. “I can’t concentrate
with you asking me all these questions.”

“From what I understand, the surface might be inlaid with
mother of pearl,” Deem said into the speakerphone she was holding between
herself and Winn as they raced toward Kaiparowitz in the early hours the next
day. “And it’s no more than an inch or an inch and a half in diameter.”

“Does it change when you view it in the River?” came Roy’s
voice from the other end of the line.

“Uh…” Deem looked up at Winn. Winn just shrugged back at her.
“Don’t know about that. We forgot to ask.”

“Well, I’ll ask Steven to show me the drawing when he gets
out of the bathroom,” Roy said. “I don’t know how to pull up pictures on these
infernal things, and Steven made a beeline to the bathroom as soon as we got
back from breakfast. How he thinks he can eat biscuits and gravy at his age is
beyond me. You know, Deem, I give you this warning purely out of compassion,
but the plumbing doesn’t work the same when you get older. Things go right
through you. Things you used to be able to eat when you were young just turn
to…”

They heard a fumbling on the other end, and they heard someone
in the background say “give me that!” After some rustling, Steven’s voice came
on the line. “Hello? Deem? Winn?”

“Hi, Steven,” Deem answered.

“Hello,” Winn jumped in. “Did everything work out with
Maynard?”

“Yes, he came up here and helped us out,” Steven replied. “I
want to thank you for referring him. He was very helpful.”

“Oh, good,” Winn said. “He’s a good guy. Glad he could help.”

“Steven, I sent you a picture of a drawing, just like last
time,” Deem said. “It’s called a vacuum box.”

“Hold on,” Steven said, and there was a long pause. “OK, I’ve
got it. Looks simple.”

“Recognize it at all?” Deem asked.

“Not right off, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you out,”
Steven replied.

“We’re on our way to try and recover one from a mine,” Deem
said. “If we come up short, we were hoping you might be our backup. We need it
to collect callum to help save a gifted woman who’s in a coma down here.”

“I’ll see what I can do, and I’ll do it today,” Steven said.
“I’ll call you back as soon as I find something.”

“Oh, thank you!” Deem said. “I’m sure the woman down here
will thank you as well!”

“Any news on Jason?” Winn asked.

There was a short pause before Steven answered, “No, there’s
nothing new. We’re still searching, trying everything we can.”

“I’d be happy to go back out to St. Thomas,” Winn offered.
“Check things out, see if it has anything to do with his disappearance.”

There was another pause, then Steven said, “No, you don’t
need to do that. I really don’t think he’s down there. Something tells me he’s
up here, somewhere.”

“But it’s been so long,” Deem said. “Shouldn’t we try
everything we can? It’s no skin off our back to check into it, Steven, really.”

Another pause. Deem looked up at Winn, wondering if Steven’s
pause meant he was offended.

“I hate to put you on a goose chase,” Steven said. “I believe
in my heart he’s up here somewhere. I can’t stop you, but I don’t want to waste
your time either. I don’t think anything will come of it.”

“What makes you think he’s up there?” Winn asked.

“It’s a feeling I have,” Steven said. “It’s hard to explain.
Maybe it’s a father/son thing. But I know he’s not at St. Thomas.”

“Alright,” Deem said. “Well, good luck. We’re all hoping you
find him soon.”

“Thanks,” Steven replied. “I’ll let you know what I find.
Call me and stop me if you wind up retrieving one from the mine.”

“Will do,” Deem said. “Bye.” She hung up and lowered the
phone.

“I don’t get it,” Winn said. “If my son was missing, I would
search everywhere. If someone offered to help, I’d take their offer.”

“Maybe he knows more than he’s willing to tell us,” Deem
said. “Maybe he knows for sure that his son is somewhere up there. That’s what
it sounded like to me.”

“Not just a hunch he has?” Winn asked.

“Nope,” Deem said. “I think he knows.”

“But he doesn’t want to say,” Winn replied. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Deem said. “I guess it’s one of those things
you have to trust someone about.”

“You know, I asked Maynard how his trip up there went,” Winn
said, “and he uncharacteristically clammed right up.”

“Something’s going on,” Deem said.

“For sure,” Winn replied.

▪ ▪ ▪

“We’re gonna need bolt cutters,” Deem called back to Winn,
who was unpacking items from the Jeep. “This place is locked up like Fort
Knox.” She pulled on the heavy chain that wrapped between the iron door and a
post sunk into the ground. Faded metal warning signs, attached to the front of
the door, advised that entering the mine would violate state law. There were
bullet holes in the signs, an indication of their attractiveness as targets.

Winn brought two backpacks and dropped one at Deem’s feet. He
also held the bolt cutters, which he took to the chain. It was snapped open
within seconds, and he walked the bolt cutters back to the Jeep.

Deem reached into her backpack and pulled out a flask. She tossed
back a single gulp, shaking her head after she swallowed. Then she handed it to
Winn as he returned from the Jeep. He took it and downed two gulps like water.

“That tastes different,” Winn said.

“It’s so nasty I don’t know how you can tell it’s different,”
Deem replied.

“Well, it does,” Winn said. “Did you change it?”

“It’s the first batch I’ve made myself. I finally ran out of
my dad’s. He had gallons of it.”

“Just like a Mormon, stocking up a two year supply,” Winn
said under his breath.

“I hope it’s as good as his,” Deem said. “I took notes when
he showed me how to make it, but I was a little frustrated at how incomplete my
notes were.”

“Are you telling me we’re testing out questionable
protection?” Winn said. “I wish you’d have said something. I could have brought
my own.”

“Where’s yours?”

“Back in Moapa,” Winn replied.

“Then yes, I guess we’re trusting mine.” She replaced the flask.
“It worked for David.”

“Who’s David?”

“I didn’t tell you about him?” Deem asked. “Erin called me to
rescue him. He got stuck somewhere and needed help. You got the pulsebox?”

“Tuned up and ready to go,” Winn said, slapping his backpack.
“Let’s see what we’re dealing with inside, and I’ll figure out where to drop
it.”

Deem pulled on the iron door and it slowly swung, its metal
hinges groaning. A blast of sour wind from the mine rushed out to greet them.

“Smells awful,” Winn commented. “Do we have any idea of the
layout?”

“None,” Deem said. “It was sealed up long before the mine
hobbyists started mapping things.”

Deem stepped inside and Winn followed. The tunnel ran level,
with rail cart tracks in almost perfect condition under their feet. It began to
angle downward after fifty yards, and it soon opened up into a large room that
held wooden ore-processing equipment. Deem wondered if Winn would choose to
leave the pulsebox here; he preferred to set it up in a location near an exit
route, to ensure they’d have a clean way out in the event they had to make a
hurried departure from the mine. Above them in the ceiling was a large shaft
running straight up.

“Capped off,” Winn said, shining his flashlight into the
shaft. “Just like the entrance. They sealed this place up tight.”

“At least they didn’t bulldoze it,” Deem said. “We’d be
screwed if they’d done that.”

Three tunnels lay ahead of them, snaking deeper into the
mine. “Why don’t you leave the pulsebox up by those tunnels?” Deem said. “It’ll
keep all three clear.”

“I’m gonna leave the pulsebox here,” Winn said, “because I
think we should go that way.” He nodded toward the west wall of the room, away
from the tunnels.

“There’s no tunnel there,” Deem replied.

“Remember Devil’s Throat?” Winn said.

Deem dropped into the River and saw the false wall. Then she
dropped back out, not wanting to stay in the River for long and unnecessarily
attract any zombighosts.

Winn turned on the pulsebox and set it on the ground. They
walked to the edge of the room and dropped back into the River to pass through
the false wall. Beyond it was a small room with a tunnel leading out the other
side. There were four skeletons along the southern wall of the room, with a
large amount of rubble under the bodies where ceiling rocks had caved in. Even
though they were standing several feet from the skeletons, Deem could see that
the bones had been nailed to the rocks. Large railroad spikes had been driven
through their arms, neck, and legs to keep them pinned to the wall.

“I’m not liking the look of this,” Winn said.

“Is it time for the gas masks?” Deem asked.

“The treasure you seek is down that passage,” came a familiar
voice from behind them, and they both turned.

“Carma?” Deem asked.

Carma was standing next to a small boulder, her hand raised, pointing
at the tunnel that led out of the room.

“That way,” she said, smiling at them.

“What are you doing here?” Deem asked.

“Tagging along,” Carma answered. “Thought I’d join in for the
fun.” She lowered her arm and took a step toward them.

“How do you know it’s in there?” Winn asked.

“I can sense it,” Carma replied. “It turns to the right. Keep
turning, and you’ll find it.”

Deem and Winn stepped toward the tunnel and were about to
enter it when they turned around to check on Carma. “Are you coming?” Deem
asked.

“No, I think I’d be more comfortable waiting out here,” she
replied.

Winn walked into the passage and Deem followed. They had gone
about twenty feet when it curved sharply to the right. After another ten feet
it turned to the right again.

“This is taking us back to the room,” Deem said.

“It can’t be,” Winn said. “There was only one tunnel.”

After a few more steps another turn to the right occurred.
They walked for a few more yards.

“We should have run into the tunnel that left the room by now,”
Deem said. “We’re going in a circle.”

Winn kept progressing down the passageway, and after another
ten feet it turned to the right once again. “We must be going down,” Winn said.
“It doesn’t feel like it, but we must be. It’s the only thing that makes
sense.”

They walked another fifteen feet and came to another right
turn. “Stop,” Deem said, and she paused. “Do you hear that?”

Winn stopped. “Hear what?”

“Listen,” Deem said. “I hear something.”

They held still, straining their ears. The faint cry of a wail
could be heard in the distance, then dozens of wails.

“Ghosts?” Winn asked.

“I think so,” Deem replied.

“Which direction?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t like this,” Winn said. “I feel like we’re trapped.
If they come from behind, we don’t have many options.”

“I wonder how much farther this goes?”

Winn turned his flashlight to the path ahead. “Come on, let’s
speed things up. Carma said to keep turning right, and we’d find it.”

Deem followed Winn and they moved more quickly through the
passage. She noticed that the walls seemed closer together the farther they
went. When they started, the passage was about five feet wide, but now it was
three feet, and the ceiling was lower, forcing them to lower their heads at
times. They made three more right turns, and Deem was beginning to become
lightheaded.

“I’m not sure I can keep going,” Winn said. “This is too narrow
for me. Look ahead, it just keeps getting tighter.”

“This can’t be right,” Deem said, bringing Winn to a stop
ahead of her. “We’re not going down, or up. Things are level. We couldn’t have
possibly made this many right turns.” She reached into her backpack and pulled
out a gas mask, slipping it onto her head. Winn did the same.

They sucked in a lungful of clean air. “I need to stop for a
minute, and clear my head,” Deem said to Winn through the gas mask.

“No problem, I’m not for going any farther, anyway.”

They lowered themselves to lean against the wall of the
passageway, but when they leaned back they kept falling until they hit the
ground. Deem looked around, and saw they were in a huge room nearly two hundred
feet wide. “Winn? You seeing this?”

“Yeah.”

They stood and turned to inspect the room. The ceiling was
almost so high their lights couldn’t reach it. The floor was covered in a fine
dust, and they could see their footprints in it.