The Zero Game

46

RETRACING MY STEPS, I take Viv on the quick tour to catch her up to date.

“They can run a phone line down here, but they can’t build an outhouse?” she asks as we pass the red wagon. With each step, she tries to maintain the brave face, but the way her sweaty hand is gripping my own… the way she’s always at least a half-step or so behind me, it’s clear adrenaline fades fast. When she picks up the oxygen detector from the floor and looks down at the readout, I expect her to stop dead in her tracks. She doesn’t. But she does slow down.

“18.8?” she asks. “What happened to the 19.6 from the elevator?”

“The cage co

“Really?” she challenges. She’s done taking my word for it. “So where we are right now – this is no different than strolling by the Jefferson Memorial, taking photos with the cherry blossoms?”

“If it makes you feel better, the cherry blossoms don’t bloom until April.”

She looks around at the dark, mossy walls that’re splattered with mud. Then she shines the light in my face. I decide not to push back. For five minutes, we continue to weave slowly through the darkness. The ground slants slightly downward. As the never-ending hole takes us even deeper, the temperature keeps getting hotter. Viv’s behind me, trying to stay silent, but between the heat and the sticky air, she’s once again breathing heavy.

“You sure you’re…?”

“Just keep going,” she insists.

For the next two hundred or so feet, I don’t say a word. It’s even hotter than when we started, but Viv doesn’t complain. “You okay back there?” I finally ask.

She nods behind me, and her light stretches out in front of us, bouncing up and down with the movements of her head. On the wall is another red spray-painted sign marked Lift, with an arrow pointing to a tu

“You sure we’re not going in circles?” she asks.

“The ground keeps going down,” I tell her. “I think most of these places are required to have a second elevator as a precaution – that way, if something goes wrong with one, no one gets trapped down here.”

It’s a nice theory, but it doesn’t slow Viv’s breathing. Before I can say another word, there’s a familiar tinkle in the distance.

“Leaky faucet?” Viv whispers.

“No question, it’s ru

“You sure?” she asks, checking behind us.

“It’s definitely up there,” I say, rushing forward and trying to follow the sound.

“Harris, wait…!”

I start to run. A series of ear-splitting chirps rips through the air. The sound is deafening, like a nuclear assault warning. I freeze and look around. If we tripped an alarm…

Deeper down the tu

Viv tries to take off. I tug her back by the wrist. The thing’s moving so fast, we’ll never outrun it. Better that we not look guilty.

The metal brakes grind to a halt a few feet in front of us. I follow Viv’s light as it shines across the side of the banged-up yellow car and the man who’s sitting inside it. The car looks like a miniature train engine without the roof. There’s a large spotlight attached to the hood. Behind the wheel is a bearded middle-aged man in a ratty old pair of overalls. He shuts the engine, and the chirping finally stops.

“Sorry about the heat – we’ll have it fixed up in the next few hours,” he offers.

“Fixed?”

“You think we like it like this?” he asks, using his mine light to circle the walls and ceiling. “We’re a belch shy of a hundred and thirty degrees…” He laughs to himself. “Even for eight thousand, that’s hot.” I quickly recognize the flat South Dakota accent of the man who came down in the cage before us. Garth, I think. Definitely Garth. But what catches my attention isn’t his name – it’s the tone in his voice. He’s not attacking. He’s apologizing. “Don’t worry,” he adds. “We got this at the top of the list.”

“Th-That’s great,” I reply.

“And now that the air conditioner and exhaust’s in place, we’ll have you seeing your breath in no time. You won’t be sweating like that anymore,” he adds, motioning to our soaked shirts.

“Thanks,” I laugh back, anxious to change the subject.

“No, thank you – if it weren’t for you guys, this place woulda still been boarded up. Once the gold was plucked, we didn’t think we had a shot.”

“Yeah, well… happy to help, Garth.” I throw in his name to get his attention – and to keep him from staring at Viv. As always, it does the trick. “So how’s it look otherwise?” I ask as he turns back to me.

“Right on time. You’ll see when you get down there. Everything’s in place,” he explains. “I should really get back, though… We got another shipment coming in. I just wanted to make sure we had the space ready.”

With a wave, he gets back in the man-car and starts the engine. The shrill scream of the chirping pierces the entire tu

“Whattya think?” Viv asks as I watch him disappear in the darkness.

“No idea. But from the sound of it, there’s no gold left down here.”

Nodding, Viv heads deeper into the mine. I stay with the man-car, making sure it’s gone.

“By the way, how’d you remember his name?” she adds.

“I don’t know – I’m just good with names.”

“See, nobody likes people like that.”

Behind me, I hear her feet crunching against the rocks. I’m still focused on the man-car. It’s almost gone.

“Hey, Harris…” she calls out.

“Hold on, I want to make sure he’s-”

“Harris, I think you should take a look at this…”

“C’mon, Viv – just gimme a second.”

Her voice is dry and flat. “Harris, I think you should take a look at this now...”

I turn around, rolling my eyes. If she’s still worried about the-

Oh, jeez.

Up ahead… at the very end of the tu

“C’mon…” Viv calls out, dashing toward the doors.

“Wait!” I call out. It’s already too late. Her mine light bounces as she runs, and I chase behind the lightning bug as she weaves deeper into the cave.

The truth is, I don’t want to stop her. This is what we came for. The actual light at the end of the tu