Ashes of the Dead - Bucket of Blood Page 10

  Rose rubbed Caleb's shoulder and started to wake him. “Time to go, sweetie.”

  Caleb rubbed his eyes. Like any child he never had any problems sleeping through just about anything, from thunderstorms to somebody beating on reinforced wood with an axe only a few feet away. Rose helped him to his feet and took his hand. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re leaving, honey,” she said, and then started to lead him toward the opening.

  Everybody started to gather around the hole, now wide awake and ready to get the hell out of there. Cutler swung again and the roof of the mineshaft gave way, causing a cloud of dirt to mushroom into the air and fill the church in a thick haze. Cutler waved his arm through the air, clearing the cloud of dirt, and revealing an underground tunnel.

  Jack stood and finished his cigar, and then smashed it into the floor with his boot, smearing half-burnt tobacco into the wood. “Alright.” He walked over to the hole as Cutler was still waiting for the air to clear. “I knew it,” he said, patting Cutler on the back. “Good work.” Jack had a way of always letting other men, often better men, do the hard work for him. Then he would step in when the time was right and take the credit.

  Clay climbed down into the tunnel and looked into pitch-blackness as he checked both ways, making sure that it was safe to enter. “All clear.”

  Eric lit a kerosene lantern and handed it to Clay, who held it as high as he could in the crammed space to check the tunnel one more time. He let his eyes adjust and then moved ahead, keeping low and running his hand along the dirt wall. Jack jumped in behind him and disappeared as well.

  “Alright folks,” Pickett directed, “Into the tunnel, one at a time.”

  Everybody followed suit and stepped down into the tight space. Pickett hopped down next and helped Rose and Caleb. Cutler, Andrew and Pearce were right behind them, and the Gunman took one last look around the church before jumping in, bringing up the rear.

  Jack and Clay led the way through the dark tunnel with everyone following eagerly behind them. The ground in the tunnel seemed to slope upward and the mineshaft branched several times, with endless tunnels that disappeared into the darkness. Nobody spoke as they walked and their journey underground became eerily quiet. Only the shuffling of feet and an occasional cough was heard. The Gunman and Cutler walked near the front of the pack, with Rose and Caleb right behind them. Cutler had found an old rusted lantern and managed to get it lit, but the kerosene had slowly been leaking out over the years and there was no telling how much longer it would produce the precious light that they needed to find their way.

  “Ever think you’d be walking through a mineshaft leading a group of people to safety as you escaped a horde of wretched murdering psychopaths?” Cutler asked the Gunman.

  “It hadn’t crossed my mind when I woke up this morning,” the Gunman replied, “But then again, there are a lot of things in this world that hadn’t crossed my mind before this morning,” he said smiling, his face outlined roughly by dim lantern light.

  Cutler laughed. “You can say that again. It’s been a while since I’ve had this much adventure in my life. And forgetting the circumstances, this has been kind of fun,” he told him, a devious smile curling on his face.

  They continued to fumble through the dark, slowly making progress with no end in sight. Farther up the tunnel, Jack and Clay started to pick up the pace. Before the others could realize what was happening, Jack and Clay were racing down the tunnel, far ahead of everybody. For several minutes they ran as fast as they could through the darkness. Their lantern light suddenly disappeared around a corner.

  “Jack-- slow down!” Rose yelled. But there was no response, only darkness. Rose tightened her grip on Caleb’s hand, holding him closer. “Jack!”

  Far up ahead, Jack and Clay had stopped near a huge support beam, panting hard as they caught their breath. They were now well ahead of everybody and had taken at least two hard corners, keeping them far out of sight.

  “Jack, what the hell are we doing?” Clay asked, just as confused as the people running behind them.

  Jack threw him a shovel that he had grabbed before jumping into the tunnel. “Take out the support beam.”

  “What about those people? This will bring the whole thing down!”

  “Just do it,” he demanded, “Now, god dammit!”

  Clay hesitated, and then began to beat the shovel against the beam. After several hard blows the old rotten beam cracked through the middle and began to splinter apart. Dirt trickled from the ceiling, a sure sign that something really bad was about to happen. Clay beat it again, but his sweaty hand slipped on the handle, shoving a sliver deep into his palm. “Ah fuck--.” He sucked his palm, attempting to remove it, but it had been shoved deep, and the lantern light was too dim to see where it was.

  “You fucking idiot! Give me that,” Jack said as he ripped the shovel out of Clay's hand and swung it hard against the beam. The beam cracked in half and shifted under the weight of the collapsing roof. Dirt began to pour from the ceiling as Jack and Clay turned and sprinted down the tunnel. Dirt and rocks covered their tracks and a sea of destruction followed in their wake. What had stood for years was destroyed in mere seconds from their brazen recklessness.

  Rose kept running as fast as she could with Caleb in hand, trying desperately to catch up to Jack and Clay. The ground began to rumble under her feet and the walls shook violently. She slid to a stop with the others close behind her.

  “Get down!” Pickett yelled.

  Emmett tackled Rose and Caleb and covered them with his body, creating a human shield as the mineshaft collapsed around them. Several men and woman were crushed to death instantly under the weight, encased in a tomb of rock and dirt. The Gunman jumped to the ground and covered the back of his head just as a rock struck him in the temple, knocking him unconscious.

  • • •

  A broken lantern flickered in the darkness, faintly lighting the tunnel, which was clouded with settling dust from the collapsed ceiling. Broken beams and cracked rocks laid scattered throughout the mineshaft and the outlines of several bodies were intertwined among them, twisted and broken.

  A hand appeared from the fray, tattered and bloody, not unlike the hand of an undead crawling out of its tomb. An arm appeared and pushed away a cracked beam and fallen rocks. Finally, the rest of Cutler appeared as he dug himself out of the chaos. He was covered head-to-toe in dirt and debris from the collapse. He grabbed a broken finger and twisted it back into place, and then dusted off his clothes as best he could.

  Nearby, Pickett awoke and began to moan in pain underneath a pile of rubble. He was pinned under a thick heavy beam. He tried to push it off, grunting hard and straining against the immense weight, but it wouldn’t budge. Cutler saw him struggling and rushed over to help.

  “Sheriff!"

  “Get this fucking thing off me--,” he said, coughing up blood and spitting it into the dirt. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Come on…I can't stay under here all day.”

  Cutler grabbed the beam and squatted hard, and Pickett pushed at the same time. The beam moved an inch, but no more. “Fuck,” Cutler yelled as he set the beam back down.

  Faint light appeared behind them. The broken light streamed from the cracked glass of a lantern, filtering through a fog of dust that still hung in the air and choked the tunnel. It was the Gunman, Andrew and Pearce, covered head to toe in dirt and filth.

  “Get over here,” Cutler said, “The Sheriff’s hurt.”

  The Gunman walked over and held the lantern over Pickett. His face was grim and ashen from the pain of two cracked ribs making it hard for him to breathe.

  Cutler, the Gunman, Andrew and Pearce grabbed the beam together. “1, 2, lift!” They said, and heaved it an entire foot. “Quickly! Pull him out!” the Gunman yelled.

  Pearce grabbed Pickett's feet and slid him out as the others let go of the beam, letting it slam down to the ground. Pickett leaned against the wall and held his side, clen
ching his jaw in pain. Cutler patted him on the back, misting a cloud of dust into the air. “You alright, Sheriff?”

  “I think so,” he said, and spit more blood into the dirt. He cracked his back and picked up his hat, and then molded it back into shape and placed it on his dirty head. “Think I bit my tongue though,” he said, dabbing blood from his mouth with the edge of his sleeve. “Where is everybody?” he said, looking around the dim tunnel.

  “Well, if I had to guess…” Cutler said, and pointed behind Pickett, “…on the other side of that.”

  Pickett turned, but couldn’t quite see what was behind him in the darkness. The Gunman picked up the lantern and walked over and lifted it high, revealing a wall of rock, dirt and broken wood that completely blocked the tunnel. Cutler approached the blockage and tried to lift one of the rocks, but it was far too heavy. He reached for a much smaller rock and threw it aside casually. Then, they heard coughing coming from the other side, a woman’s cough, barely audible through the rock and dirt. “Rose--,” Cutler said, and then started to dig frantically near the top of the blockage. “Rose!” he yelled, but there was still no answer. He continued to dig near the top and was joined by the Gunman and Andrew, throwing rocks and dirt out of their way, all digging like rabid terriers. “Rose! Anybody!”

  A small hole appeared at the top of the rock pile, only big enough to fit a small hand through. “Yes--,” Rose cracked. She coughed in the darkness on the other side. “We’re here!”

  The Gunman lifted the lantern higher and peered through to the other side. He could just barely see the outline of Rose’s soft face in the dim light. The others continued to dig, trying to remove the heavy rocks and wooden beams that blocked their way. “Are you okay?” he asked, staring through the hole with his piercing blue eyes.

  “I think so.”

  “Who's all with you?

  “I’m not sure,” she said, and coughed from dust still hanging thickly in the tunnel.

  “Can you find a lantern?”

  Rose turned around and searched on her hands and knees for any signs of life, sliding her palms across the dirt floor. Her eyes began to slowly adjust to the penetrating blackness that surrounded her, but it was still difficult to see anything clearly. A thin beam of light from the Gunman’s lantern fell on a small shoe. It was Caleb’s. She grabbed it frantically and continued her search. “Caleb!” she shouted in the darkness. “Caleb!”

  “Over hear,” he squeaked.

  She rushed over to him and found Emmett knocked unconscious, still protecting him with his body. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” Caleb said.

  She pulled him out from underneath Emmett and squeezed him into her chest, hugging him tightly and holding the back of his neck. She ran her hands over him, checking for any signs that he had been hurt. “I said I’m fine,” he insisted.

  She knelt down and caressed Emmett’s shoulder. He awoke and sat upright, rubbing a knot on his head. When he saw Rose and Caleb in front of him he pulled them in tightly. “Thank god,” he said, and cringed in pain as they hugged him back even tighter. “Are you two okay?”

  A few more people appeared out of the darkness, bloodied and covered in dirt. Rose did a quick head count and returned to the mound of rocks behind her, and then crawled up to the small opening. “I only counted a dozen people. Maybe a few more farther down the tunnel.”

  “Are any of the rocks loose on that side?” the Gunman asked.

  Rose leaned over and pulled away two small rocks, but the rest were far too heavy for her to move and they wouldn’t budge. Emmett joined her and they pulled away one of the heavier rocks, but that was all they could manage.

  Cutler continued working on the other side, trying to budge a thick beam from underneath several rocks, but it was no use. He turned to the Gunman and wiped sweat from his forehead. “What are we gonna do? Ain't no way we can dig through all this,” he said under his breath, trying to keep Rose from hearing.

  “I don't know,” the Gunman said, and set down the lantern and helped Cutler remove another rock, making the hole a little bigger. They pushed and pulled on another rock, but it was pinned against the collapsed wall and wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Rose,” the Gunman called.

  “Yes?”

  “Is the tunnel clear on the other side of you?”

  “I think so. Why?” she asked.

  “You'll have to head back the other way...back to the church.”

  Rose walked for a ways down the tunnel, keeping both hands out in front her. Part of the wall had collapsed, but the tunnel was still open, and turned in a sweeping arc that disappeared out of the light. “It’s clear,” she called to him. “What about you?”

  He looked at Cutler, then back through the hole at her. “Sit tight in the church. We’ll come and get you,” the Gunman said.

  “Okay,” she responded.

  “Be careful, Rose,” Cutler added, nervously fingering the front of his shirt at the thought of something happening to her.

  Rose stood in the dark tunnel, knowing that they would have to find their way back to the church blind. There was a definite possibility that they would get lost, and never find their way back, but another fear also took hold of her. It traveled up her spine and crawled into the base of her skull. The undead could be in these tunnels and there was no way for them to defend themselves without weapons. Rose took Caleb’s hand, and then started to lead everyone down the tunnel, and they disappeared into pitch-blackness, shuffling away in silence.

  The Gunman pulled out his revolvers and blew dirt out of the barrels. He wiped them with his shirt and slipped them back into their holsters. Cutler found his axe buried in the dirt and wiped off the blade, good as new.

  The Gunman grabbed the lantern and turned a small rusted knob to push the cotton wick higher, which made it burn a little brighter. “Alright,” he said, “Let’s get moving.”

  “You sure you know how to get out of here?” Andrew asked.

  “No,” he responded, and started walking down the tunnel.

  “And what if we get lost?” Andrew asked, trying to clean his glasses with his dirty shirt.

  “Well, I suppose we'll come out eventually.”

  Cutler smiled, liking these odds. “Sounds good to me.”

  The Gunman held out the lantern and led them down the tunnel, and they began their search for a way out, groping their way through the darkness.

  • • •

  A roughly hewn entrance was cut deep into the hillside, supported by thick beams and iron reinforcements, bathed in the cool glow of morning sunlight. The wind was blowing gently out of the West and carried moist air from the Pacific. The hillside was covered in slate and overgrown with wild Yucca.

  As the sun crested over the horizon, Jack and Clay appeared out of the mineshaft, using their hands to block the piercing sunlight. Clay stood there for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust. They had spent the entire night walking through the dark tunnels, and even the pale morning light was more than he could handle.

  Jack sat on the ground and pulled out a cigar, and then used a silver cutter to clip off the end.

  “Where are we?” Clay asked.

  “Nevada Gulch. Far from where we want to be.”

  “And where exactly do we wanna be?”

  Jack lit his last match and sucked the small flame into the end of the cigar, igniting brown curls of tobacco into golden embers. “Far from here,” he answered, and released gray smoke from his lips.

  “Why did we leave those people back there, Jack?”

  “They know too much.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jack took a deep pull from the cigar and exhaled slowly from his nostrils. “Look. Anybody who leaves here alive…besides us…is bound to find out that we moved those remains. And once we're connected to that…well….” He sucked deeply on the cigar. “…I'm sure we'll get blamed for the whole thing.”

  “What do you mean? Blamed for wh
at?”

  “Never mind.”

  “You think those things in town are because of us? Because of what we did--.”

  Jack pushed himself up with the cigar hanging between his teeth. “That's why we need to get away from here. Far away,” he said, and started to descend the steep hillside. Clay stood there wondering how far down the rabbit hole he was willing to follow Jack, and then took off and followed closely at his heels.

  • • •

  The Gunman and the remaining gang made their way through the mineshaft. They moved in silence as they searched for a way out, and had been walking all night in the dimly lit tunnels. None of them had gotten any sleep that night, and very little the night before, but the Gunman and Cutler both agreed that they had to return to the church as soon as possible. There was no telling how long Rose and the others would last against an onslaught of the undead. The windows and doors of the church had been reinforced, but that would only buy them a little time. The undead were relentless, and they would eventually break through and destroy everything in their path, leaving no one alive.

  They approached a point in the mineshaft that split into three tunnels, each going in different directions, with no indication of which one would lead them out of the mine. Some old markings could be seen etched roughly into one of the beams on the outside of the middle tunnel, but time had worn them away and they were no longer legible. They were probably the initials of a miner who had worked here long ago, placing his mark in the darkness. The gunman turned from side to side, inspecting each tunnel as best he could in the low light.

  “We should take this one,” Andrew said, pointing to the tunnel on the right.

  Cutler looked at the entrance, and then studied the other two in the same way. “You know somethin’ we don’t, doc?” he questioned cynically.

  “This one slopes upward,” Andrew said, pointing toward it. “The other two don’t. If I had to guess, I would say that this one is our best chance.”