Fool's Gold (20 page)

“Well, sure,” Eleanora's loud good-natured voice boomed out over the cheerful shrieking and yelling. “If it's really important. Just send them along. Tell them I'll be expecting them in fifteen minutes. Okay?”

So a few minutes later Moira and Margot were on their way back to the baby-sitter's and Rudy and Tyler were on their bikes heading back to Pritchard's Hole. They didn't talk much on the way there. It was very hot and they were riding fast, and besides, Rudy's mind was busy with other things, like wondering why Barney would send Ty for him, and what he was going to say about the fight—and if he really did want to apologize for telling Rudy to get out. Or if there was a possibility, maybe, that Barney wanted him there to back him up, to be on his side when he told Ty that he'd changed his mind about doing something so seriously illegal as breaking into an abandoned mine. Rudy hoped that was it. He was rehearsing what he might tell Tyler about what a breaking and entering charge could do to someone who was just one bust away from juvenile hall, when they came out of the oak grove into the open field. There was no sign of Barney.

Rudy got off his bike and looked around. “Where's Barney?” he said. Then he looked at Ty, and suddenly he knew. “Where's Barney?” he shouted.

“I don't know,” Ty wouldn't meet Rudy's eyes. “I think—I think maybe he's somewhere in the mine.”

“In the mine? You mean you went off and left him alone in the mine?”

“No. That is, I didn't go in with him. I was supposed to meet him here and I was a little later than I said I'd be. Not a lot, just half an hour or so, but when I got out here he was already gone.”

Rudy had to swallow hard before he was able to say, “You sure he didn't just go on home?”

Ty shook his head. “I thought of that, but look. There's his bike over by the cart.”

“And all his mining stuff? Where's his helmet and pick and everything?”

Ty nodded. “Gone,” he said.

“And you didn't go in after him?”

“Yeah, I did. I went in pretty far. Well, a little way. But I couldn't find him and there are these tunnels branching off in other directions and I didn't know which way he'd gone. So I decided to come and get you.” Tyler looked embarrassed. “You know,” he said, “it's better to have two people. I mean, if he's hurt or something it would probably take two of us to get him out.”

Anger, hot and thick, rose up in Rudy's throat, almost choking him. “If he's hurt or something,” he said in a tight voice, “we should have called the police and an ambulance.”

“No!” Tyler said quickly. “We can't do that. If we'd done that I'd be terminally busted. And so would Barney. Don't forget that. So would Barney! And besides, he's probably not hurt. He's probably having a ball down there digging out gold nuggets. He's got a copy of the map old Rooney made for me, so he's probably digging away already.” Tyler was babbling, the words tumbling out all over each other. “Yeah, that's it. He's probably so busy finding gold that he didn't even hear me when I shouted and—”

“You shouted and he didn't answer?”

“Well, yeah, but like I say—”

“Wait a minute,” Rudy said. “Do you have a copy of the map?”

Ty's hand went toward his pocket. “Yeah. I have one.”

“Then why didn't you just follow it to where the gold is supposed to be? You'd probably have found him if you did that.”

“I tried to. But it was real complicated. The turns and things didn't seem to match the ones on the map. I couldn't figure it out.”

“Then what makes you think Barney was able to follow it? If the map is no good then why do you think he was able to go right to the gold? Tell me that. Tell me that,” Rudy said and almost added,
“you cement-headed lamebrain.”

He was angry, angrier than he'd ever remembered being. Angry at Ty for starting the whole stupid goldmine thing in the first place, and absolutely furious at him for lying about why he wanted Rudy to come out to the mine, so Rudy would come alone instead of calling the police.

Rudy grabbed the flashlight Ty was getting out of his backpack and crawled through the opening left by the missing planks, without even stopping to wonder if he was going to be able to do it. He was already standing inside the mine before he felt it beginning. Before the terror started, turning his heartbeat into crazy explosions and tightening his aching throat around an awful need to scream. He was starting to turn back frantically toward the light and air, when Tyler lurched against him, nearly knocking him down.

“Look out,” Tyler shouted. “Bats. Bats.”

When Rudy regained his balance Tyler was crouching beside him, his arms waving wildly around his head. He was wearing a helmet with a flashlight taped on top of it and he had a small pickax in one hand. “Bats,” he was still shouting. “Look out. Bats!”

A jabbing pain shot up Rudy's arm as the waving pickax hit him sharply on the elbow. It was about to get him again when he grabbed it and wrenched it out of Tyler's hand. “Stop it!” he yelled. “What's the matter?”

“Bats,” Tyler was whispering now, pointing up over their heads. And then Rudy saw them, too, two small dark shapes that flitted around them and then darted out through the entrance and disappeared.

Rudy turned the flashlight on the ceiling of the mine tunnel. Jagged gray rocks gleamed darkly between the old planks of a rotten wooden frame. Near the entrance thick curtains of spiderweb swayed slightly, but nothing else moved. No flitting wings or glittering eyes.

“They're gone,” Rudy said. “I think the bats are gone.” He looked down to where Tyler still crouched on the floor. His eyes, shining out from under the edge of the helmet, were still wide and jittery.

“Have you got a thing about bats too?” Rudy asked.

Tyler stood up. He straightened his helmet and grabbed his pick out of Rudy's hand. “What do you mean, a thing?” he said. “I just don't like them is all. They fly into your hair or down your neck if they get a chance. I just don't like them.”

Rudy stared at him, wondering if bats were the reason he'd given up on finding Barney by himself, if seeing some bats was why he'd only gone “a little way” before he decided to go for help. “Which way did you go before?” Rudy asked.

Tyler pulled the map out of his pocket. Spreading it out with shaky hands, he pointed out how you were supposed to go down the main tunnel past two very short cross tunnels that took off to the left, and then turn down another long tunnel to the right. “But something's not right,” he said. “There aren't any short tunnels. The first turn off goes to the right and it looks like it goes on forever.”

Rudy studied the map, turning it from side to side. It looked to him like a blurry, mixed-up mess. He couldn't believe that this useless scribble made Tyler and Barney think the old miner knew what he was talking about. “Come on,” he said. “Forget about the map. Let's just start walking. And calling.”

Rudy took a deep breath. The air was cool and dank and smelled of earth and decay. He turned the flashlight down the tunnel ahead of them, illuminating ancient scaffolding and rough rocky walls that seemed to lean inward, soaking up the feeble light. He had only gone a few steps when the throat-tightening, chest-squeezing terror started up again, stopping him in his tracks. Gasping for air, Rudy closed his eyes tightly and screamed.

“Barney!”
he shouted with every ounce of power in his throat and lungs. The force of the yell stretched his lungs, pained his throat—and somehow seemed to dull the inward ache of terror. He plunged ahead down the tunnel.

A few yards down the main passageway a smaller one went off to the right. Rudy turned up it, but after he'd gone a few yards he stopped and came back. Grabbing the pick out of Ty's hands he hacked a rough arrow into the stone to mark their path. Then he again started up the smaller tunnel.

Here they had to move very slowly. The footing was rough and uneven, and the ceiling was so low they often had to walk in a crouching position. This branch of the mine seemed to be sloping upward and as they went the air became drier and a little warmer. Every few feet they stopped to call.

Whenever the terror began to build up, Rudy called—screamed—for Barney, and the black panic backed away. He could still feel it, though, hiding like a dark cloud around the edges of his mind, waiting to force its way out. But the shouting helped to hold it at bay and, in a strange way, so did Tyler. Lurching against Rudy, grabbing his arm from time to time and continually babbling about bats, Tyler's presence was as constant as the lurking terror's, and just about as much of a nuisance.

They had been walking for some time when they came to a place where part of the roof had given way and collapsed onto the tunnel floor. A scattering of rocks and earth covered the floor for several feet. Tyler clutched Rudy's arm.

“Barney?” he said in a horrified tone of voice, pointing to the largest pile of debris. For a moment Rudy's heart thudded up into his throat, but then he shook his head. The rockfall wasn't big enough to hide an entire body. If Barney had been under it at least his feet and legs would be visible.

“No,” he said. “I don't think so.” He studied the area around the rockfall a moment longer before he added, “I don't even think he came this way. Look at the dust.”

“Hey,” Tyler said, “You're right. Look behind us.”

The air was dry here and a thick, smooth layer of dust had settled over the rockfall and the tunnel floor. Behind them their two sets of footprints were clearly visible, but up ahead the dust was smooth and undisturbed. No one had come this way in many years. They turned around quickly and made their way back to the main tunnel.

Unlike the side passageway, the central one sloped downward. The air was colder and water oozed along the walls and dripped from the ceiling. As they moved forward they splashed through shallow pools of muddy water, and ducked under great overhanging clumps of shiny wet rock. Now and then they stopped to shout and to chip an arrow into the wall to mark their way. But their calls weren't answered. They only echoed again and again, fading away gradually to the terrible unearthly silence.

As they moved forward the surface beneath their feet began to slant downward more rapidly, and the slope oozed with slimy water. They had to walk carefully, groping for footholds that would keep them from sliding. They hadn't called for several minutes when Tyler suddenly said, “Listen.”

Rudy stopped quickly. Ty crashed into him and they both slipped and slid, grabbing each other before they finally regained their balance. For a moment there was nothing but the awful silence, but then they heard it. A faint faraway voice calling “Help.”

“Barney,” Rudy called, but relief and joy made his voice wobble and he had to swallow hard and try again. “Barney. We're coming. Where are you?” he yelled and plunged forward on the slippery surface.

They hurried on, slipping and sliding, and as they went Barney's answering calls grew louder. “Rudy,” he called, and “Tyler. Here I am. I can't get out.” And then, “Be careful. Watch where you step. Go slow.”

Underfoot the slope was even steeper and the slimy mud covered everything. Barney's voice was very near when suddenly the slant changed direction. There was a sharp sideways turn and then, at what seemed to be the entrance to another side tunnel, a sharp drop into darkness.

Bracing himself against the wall, Rudy was creeping forward when his foot hit something that clattered ahead of him. It was a pickax, Barney's probably. Rudy dropped to his knees and crawled forward, bracing himself against the tunnel wall. When he reached the brink he leaned forward and shone the flashlight down into a deep pit—and directly onto Barney's upturned face.

“Hey, Barn,” Rudy tried to say, choked, and tried again. “Hey, Barn. Are you all right?”

Barney didn't answer immediately. His face twitched and he gasped and choked, and when he finally did speak his voice was shaky. “Yeah,” he said. “I'm all right—now. Just get me out of here.”

The pit Barney had fallen into wasn't deep. Lying on his stomach and reaching down, Rudy could almost touch Barney's outstretched fingers. But the wall was steep and slippery with oozing water. Barney jumped several times, reaching up desperately toward Rudy's hands, and then splashing back down into the deep puddle on the pit floor.

“The rope,” he gasped finally, and pawing around in the dark water around his feet he located his rope, and threw one end up to Rudy. Then, with Rudy and Ty holding one end, Barney held the rope with both hands while his feet scrabbled and slipped against the wall. When that didn't work he tied the rope around his waist so that his hands were free. But there were no useful handholds, and even with both Rudy and Ty pulling he made no progress. Instead Rudy and Ty were nearly dragged down into the pit themselves. Finally Rudy thought of the pickaxes.

“Hey, wait,” he said. “I'm going to dig us some footholds so we can brace ourselves. And maybe you can chip some out too. Down there on the wall. Some holes you can get your toes and fingers into.”

“But I don't have my pickax,” Barney said. “I had it in my hand when I slipped and fell, and I dropped it. It's somewhere up there.”

So they found Barney's pickax and threw it down to him, and with Rudy and Ty taking turns with the other they began to dig. But the rock was hard and progress was slow. It seemed like hours before the holes were deep enough to be useful and they were ready to try again. This time Rudy and Ty sat down facing the pit, dug their heels into the freshly dug excavations, and pulled with all their strength. And down below Barney, with the rope tied around his waist, slipped and scrambled on the wall—slipped down and tried again—and again—and then his hands appeared on the ledge, and then his arms and finally his dented helmet with its weakly shining flashlight above his wet, dirt-smeared face. He slithered toward them on his stomach, dragged himself to his knees—and lurched forward on top of Rudy and Ty. After that they all three went a little bit crazy.