Inhabited (2 page)

Clarence was rewarded with silence. Except for his breathing, he was unable to detect the sound of his own movement.
 

He heard another sigh behind him and he froze. The sound was from back down the shaft. He decided to sacrifice some of his stealth for speed.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Clarence gained confidence as he strode into the dark. He trailed his fingers down the rough wall to make sure he kept going in the correct direction. Using his mental map of the mine, Clarence held his other hand out in front. He led with the knife. He expected to run into…

He found it! Now he was certain that he was on the right trail. His hand found the wall before his face hit it. All he had to do was follow this shaft for a little bit and then he could make his final turn. Clarence held himself to a medium pace. He only slowed down when he scuffed his foot. He still didn’t think he could afford to make that much noise.

His wall ran out. This was more good news. That meant he just had to make one more turn. Everything was lining up. Clarence wanted to run, but this would be the worst time. It was in this shaft that chains hung down from some of the support beams. If he ran into one of those, it would make a terrible racket. He brushed by one of the posts and could picture how it would look. The ground got softer towards the mouth of the mine and these supporting arches were spaced every ten to fifteen feet.

Clarence blinked and peered as he walked. He imagined a dark-blue rectangle of night sky in the distance, but it could just be random firings of his optic nerve. The only way to tell would be to keep going.

After two more support columns, he was sure of it. There was the faint glow of moonlight in the distance. He could see the hanging shapes of a couple of the chains. As long as he kept close to the wall, he might be able to run without hitting them.

He ran out of wall.

Clarence stopped. It was the room. There was a gap in the wall where the shaft led to the big room. He’d heard that at one time the room had stored supplies for the civil defense shelter. If that was true, the supplies had been completely cleared out. He had searched every corner of the room and never found anything more substantial than the skeleton of a bat.

Compared to the glow at the end of the shaft, the room was a return to pure black. He didn’t like standing next to it. It felt as dangerous as the deep darkness behind him. Clarence rushed past the opening to the room and his hand found the wall again on the far side. He rushed to be closer to the moonlight. Soon, he could see the shadow his legs were casting on the mine floor. His heart soared to be so close to freedom.

His hand rested on the final support post, just below the “No Trespassing” sign emblazoned with a skull and crossbones. Clarence turned back to look into the darkness. Guilt swept through him. Somewhere back there, Joan was lying on the floor of the mine in the dark.
 

She had committed the crime of curiosity. Was he even sure she was dead?

He shook his head. Of course he was sure. Her heart had stopped and her blood had been everywhere. He had touched it and smelled it.

Maybe it was a joke.

If so, it was a very elaborate and mean joke. Hell, if she was going to play a joke like that, she deserved to be left in the mine. His mind was made up—he would drive home as fast as he could and he would wake up his father. His old man worked for the fire department, but he was nearly a doctor. If anyone could help Joan, it was him.

Clarence folded his knife and tucked it back into his pocket. He reached for his keys. They were gone. A thin film of sweat jumped instantly to his skin and Clarence began to frantically pat his pockets. He looked back into the black hole of the mine and remembered where he’d last had them. He had been standing right next to Joan’s body. There was no way he could go back. Even if there was nothing in there, even if Joan’s death had been a complete accident, he would never find his keys in the dark.

With desperation taking over, he shoved his sticky hand deep into his front pocket. Hope washed through his veins when his fingers found something hard. Below the change, he found his keys, right where he had left them. Clarence fished them out and squeezed them tight in his fist. He turned towards the trail that led to where he had parked.

He nearly made it.

Clarence took one step out into the safety of the night before the thing slinked out of the dark and looped twice around his ankle. It jerked back, sending Clarence towards the ground. He smacked into the hard rock and the keys bounced from his grip. He reached for them as his body was dragged backwards into the darkness of the mine.

Y
EARS
LATER
…

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Where else?” Justin asked.

“I don’t know… Anywhere?” Travis asked.

Justin shook his head. He pushed open the gate and let the spring pull it back. As he descended the concrete steps, he felt the difference in temperature. It was a stifling night. It almost hurt to breathe the hot air. He knocked twice on the basement door.

“Come on,” Ryan said.
 

Justin was already halfway through the door anyway. He left it cocked open for Travis.

Ryan was sitting on the couch. He fired up his lighter and touched the flame to the bowl of his bong as he inhaled. Travis pressed the door shut behind him. Justin and Travis took chairs as Ryan turned his face to the side and exhaled into a pillow.

“What’s happening?” Ryan asked. His voice produced little more than a croak.

“We need a new hang,” Travis said.
 

Justin shrugged.

“Where else?” Justin asked again. “And what’s wrong with this place anyway? Ryan’s got his own entrance. It’s private enough.”

Travis didn’t answer. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

“He’s right,” Ryan said after clearing his throat. “This place just has that oppressive parent vibe seeping down from upstairs. I feel it.” He coughed again.

“They’re not even home half the time,” Justin said.

“Yeah, but which half?” Travis asked. “The point is that you never know. We should get out of here this weekend, you know? Let’s do Vegas. We can try to get comped and eat at shitty buffets.”

“Come on,” Justin said. “It’s a day’s pay up and back. And it’s only cheap there if you have money to spend. It’s oxymoronic.”

The door banged open. When the young man slipped through he slammed it shut behind himself and then pressed back against it. “Holy shit, holy shit!”

They all just stared at him.

Eventually, Ryan said one word. “What?”

Ryan slid over and made room on the couch. Miguel took a place in front of the bong. He put up a finger to ask them to wait while he took a hit.

Travis raised his eyebrows and tapped his foot impatiently. Miguel waved for the pillow and then coughed into it. On the couch next to him, Ryan frowned and scratched his nose as he watched.

“Listen,” Travis said, clearing his throat. “Nothing
ever
happens here. Nothing is interesting. Nothing is exciting. Barstow is a fucking desert that doesn’t even know how to be a decent desert. So when you come in here like you’ve got big news and then you leave us all hanging, you’re really just making a bad situation worse. So just spit out your shitty news and quit making us wait for it.”

“Yeah,” Justin said. “Suspense requires reward.”

“What he said,” Travis said.

“There’s gold in Old Hang,” Miguel said.

The room was silent for several seconds.

Everyone erupted at once.

“Bullshit,” Travis said.

“Fuck you,” Ryan yelled. He smacked Miguel’s shoulder.

“I’m serious,” Miguel said. “Totally serious.”

“This is a work, right?” Justin asked. “Just admit it now and we’ll all stay friends. You and Travis are trying to work us.”

“What are you talking about?” Miguel said.

“Travis had that stupid story last week about how some guy named Cameron,” Justin started.

Travis interrupted him—“Clarence.”

“Some guy named Clarence took his girlfriend into Old Hang and they both got eaten by some monster. Then you show up and start talking about gold. Then one of you is going to say, ‘I think we should go looking for gold down there.’ And we end up underground while Jordan or Carlos jumps out and scares the shit out of us, right?”

Miguel shook his head. “I didn’t even know about Travis’s story. Some guy and his girlfriend died?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “This is a work.”

“It wasn’t his girlfriend,” Travis said. “And this was back in the seventies. They’re missing and presumed dead, but since they never found the bodies, nobody knows for sure.”

“Yes,” Ryan said. He picked up his bong and used a set of tweezers to pick through the char in the bowl. “This is definitely a work. I agree with Justin.”

“Tell me about the couple,” Miguel said to Travis.

“Like I said, it was the seventies. Some guy named Clarence was trying to get with this girl named Joan. They went down there, but they were never seen again. His car was found up by the Nook. That’s how they know they went in the mine,” Travis said.

“That’s creepy,” Miguel said.

“Let me ask you something,” Justin began. “If they never found the bodies or anything, how did you have all that detail about exactly what happened to them down in the mine? Were there cameras? Did psychics reconstruct the details of the doomed expedition?”

“It’s just basic storytelling, man,” Travis said.

“So these people could be anywhere then. They could have moved to Alaska to work at a salmon packing plant. They could be in Georgia, selling peanut butter door to door,” Justin said. He shifted in his chair to face Travis.

“You never believe in anything,” Travis said. “You’re so pessimistic.”

“Me? You’re convinced that every moment of every day has to be torture. You’re convinced that you live in the shittiest place in the world, and you’re never going to have the life you want. And you call me pessimistic?”

“I’m open to new experiences,” Travis said. “But I’m not going to sugarcoat reality.”

“It’s so frustrating to be around such a negative attitude all the time,” Justin said. “Maybe I will take a hit off of that bong.” He leaned forward and Ryan pulled the bong back towards himself protectively.

“Wait,” Ryan said. “First tell me about the peanut butter.”

Both Travis and Justin laughed.
 

“There is no peanut butter, man,” Justin said. “Never mind, I don’t want to get that fucked up. Miguel, tell us more about your bullshit gold story.”

Miguel shook his head. “It’s not bullshit, man. I found out all about it. They’re going to start mining on it pretty soon and then everyone is going to know. But if we could get in there before they start up, we could grab some of the easy stuff right off the walls and we would clean up.”

“Old Hang was a gypsum mine,” Justin said. “There’s no gold in a gypsum mine.”

Travis surprised Justin by agreeing with him. “He’s right. Besides, why would they just walk away from gold in the walls? At the very least, high school kids would have snarfed that shit up years ago. Why would it still be there for the taking?”

“Two reasons,” Miguel said. “Wait, is there peanut butter?”

Ryan looked up, hopeful.

“No,” Justin and Travis said.
 

“Anyway,” Miguel said. “You can’t get to the spot easily. There’s no lateral entrance for the shaft—you have to either climb up from the tailings, or rope down from the winze.”

“Does he know what he’s talking about?” Justin asked Travis. Travis shrugged.

“Second,” Miguel started, “most people think that area is haunted and dangerous. Maybe that’s because of that Clarence guy who died.”

“That was a bullshit story,” Justin said.
 

“Third,” Miguel said, “it’s not in the gypsum part of the mine. It’s from where the mine shaft intersected with a natural limestone cave. In the limestone there was a vein of quartz. In the quartz, there was gold. The miners didn’t trust the cave so they never went in there.”

“So on the dozens of expeditions that have been in that mine over the years, how come nobody knows about this?” Justin asked. “And that was
three
reasons. You said
two
.”

“You don’t listen,” Miguel said. “They
do
know about it. They’re getting ready to start mining on it pretty soon. We have to get in there before they get all the permits and everything. Right now, it’s government property. Every citizen has the right to go down there. Once they get all their permits, it will be illegal for anyone else to go in there and take gold. We’re screwed once that happens.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” Travis said.
 

Justin nodded. “You can’t just take gold. And that place is condemned. It’s trespassing to go in there.”

“Oh yeah?” Miguel asked. Before anyone could answer, he lifted his butt off the couch and began digging his hand into his pocket. He fished out a plastic baggie and dropped it on the coffee table with a hand flourish. “Then what’s that?”

Justin twisted his mouth into a scowl.

Travis reached forward and picked up the bag.

“Gross. It’s all sweaty,” Travis said.

“That’s right,” Miguel said. “The world is sweaty. It’s a damn
sweatpocalypse
out there.”

Travis lifted the bag and held it up to the overhead light.

“The moisture you feel on that bag is one-hundred percent Venezuelan ball sweat.”

“Ugh,” Travis said, dropping the bag back to the table. It thumped when it hit.

Justin leaned forward and picked up the bag by the corner. He teased apart the plastic zipper and shook the bag to rearrange the contents. Most of the rock was cloudy grey and white quartz, but he saw distinct threads of shiny gold. Justin pulled the biggest chunk from the bag. It was a golf ball of rock. He picked at the quartz and pulled off a flake to reveal a big deposit of gold.

“Hey,” Miguel said.