Abandon

SIXTY

A

bigail approached the iron door—no handle, no doorknob, no keyhole. Lawrence came up and pushed against it and yelled Quinn’s name.

She tried to rein back the fear in her voice. “Did that just happen?”

Lawrence backpedaled, then ran at the door and drove the heel of his boot into the metal.

It made a clatter that resonated through the cavern and died.

He collapsed on the rock and squeezed his ankle, wincing from the pain. Around the door’s perimeter, the rock had been worn down, chipped away. Abigail shone her headlamp over the surface of the metal. It was covered in marks of desperation—dings and numerous indentations, as if someone had assaulted the door with an assortment of implements. She saw bullet grooves, scattered dimples created by buckshot. In the middle section, a large swath of metal had been dented in, and she imagined only a boulder carried by a group of men could have made such an impression in the indomitable door.

June wandered over from the chamber. “What happened?” she asked.

“Quinn locked us in.”

“Why in the world would he do that?”

“No idea.”

June spent a moment pushing on the door. She suddenly screamed Quinn’s name.

“Save your energy,” Abigail said. “I think people have tried everything to break it down. Even ramming a boulder into it. And they, um, they obviously didn’t make it out.”

“Oh my God. We’re gonna die in here like the rest of them.” She staggered back and began to hyperventilate. “How is this . . . how is this—”

“Okay, hang on.” Lawrence struggled up off the rock. “Let’s everybody just take a breath. We can all get horrified and hysterical, but how’s that gonna save our lives? We’re still gonna be right here when we finally calm down, locked inside this mountain. So let’s skip the part where everyone freaks out. Most important thing now is light. It’s as important as oxygen, and it’s running out. We only need one headlamp going. Turn yours off. I’ll keep mine on.” Two headlamps went dark. “All right. Backpacks. Let’s find out what supplies we have to work with. I think I left . . . Fuck.” Lawrence ran over to the alcove and swept his headlamp in the vicinity of the ten burlap sacks. “It isn’t here. I left my pack near the gold, and now it’s gone. I had some rope. Batteries. Water.”

“Mine’s gone, too,” June said. “I left it by the door before we walked into the chamber. All I have is Em’s camera.”

“I still have mine,” Abigail said. She unclipped her hip belt and knelt down on the rock and unzipped it as Lawrence provided light. “So, I’ve got . . . not much. Gloves. Hat. Note pad. Roll of film. Two granola bars. Matches. Two water bottles, but only one’s full. Damn, I thought I had extra batteries.”

“All right, let’s sit down and talk this out. I’m turning my headlamp off for now.”

They sat together in the perfect darkness, fifteen feet from the iron door. Abigail closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths in an attempt to slow her heart and settle her mind.

Lawrence said, “I know it’s creepy in here, and we’re surrounded by the remains of people who died because they were locked in this mine, but I would urge us to keep them and their fate as far from our thoughts as possible.”

June wept softly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m trying not to.”

Abigail reached out, took hold of her hand.

“We have three headlamps, and the brutal truth is, if we run out of light before we find a way out, we will die in here. We should store the headlamps we aren’t using in Abby’s pack so they don’t get damaged. We also have thirty-two ounces of water. That’s barely more than a glass each. We’ll drink in small sips, every few hours, make it last as long as possible. Hopefully, there’s water somewhere in this cave. Who knows if it’s fit to drink, but we may have to try. Same deal with the granola bars. We’ll ration them out in little bites over time.”

“How long can we survive once the water runs out?” June asked.

“Three days. Maybe longer, since heat’s not gonna be an issue. So now we have an important decision to make. We can’t just sit here and hope to be rescued, because even if search-and-rescue comes to Abandon looking for us, they sure as hell won’t find us in here.”

“Maybe we could get some rocks and chip away around the door,” June said.

Abigail said, “That’s one option, but I looked at the door, and it’s my sense that that’s the big mistake the residents of Abandon made. They tried to break down the door or to chip around it. But this is hard, hard rock in here, and I’m certain we’d die of thirst before we made any real progress. I bet that most of the people in here wore themselves out fooling with that door. Then all they could do was lie down in that chamber to die, with no strength left to go look for more water or another way out.”

“And no more light,” Lawrence said.

“Exactly. I mean, all the residents of Abandon couldn’t break through that door. We have no chance.”

“Then what’s the alternative?” June asked.

Lawrence said, “Looks to me like this is a mine that, as the men were blasting and expanding it, encroached into a natural cave. I’m sure that door is not the only exit from this mountain. I know we’re tired, but I think we have to get up right now, while we still have a little strength and food and water, and try to find another way out.”

June said, “You’re suggesting we wander blindly through a cave?”

“You see another viable option?”

“What if we get lost?”

“We’re already lost. Pretend that door isn’t there, that it’s solid rock. Might as well be.”

Abigail said, “It scares me to death, but yeah, I agree that’s our only option at this point.”

“Should we split up?” June asked. “That would increase our chances of finding a way out.”

“Actually, it wouldn’t. Because we’re on the clock here in terms of light, we can only spend as much time looking for another exit as our batteries allow. If we split up, we’ll be burning through our headlamps twice or three times as fast.”

June said, “If anyone had ever made it out of this mine alive, you’d have heard about it. Right, Lawrence?”

He turned on his headlamp, and the others blinked in the sudden light.

“More than likely.”