Fred barked, ran back toward the entrance, then turned around to look at me, and barked again. The hair along his spine looked like porcupine quills.
I hurried back to the entrance and grabbed his collar when he started to growl. “What is it, boy? Is someone out there?”
Fred acted like he’d seen a Yeti and wanted to eat him for lunch. I couldn’t see any snowmen or anyone else, so I went to the edge of the tailing pile for a better look. I began to wish I’d brought binoculars. Maybe Fred could see something I couldn’t. The four-wheelers had moved on, along with their dust, but there was someone parked on the road. A chill ran up my spine when I thought I recognized the car that had been following us earlier. It had to be my overactive imagination, for I knew there was no way a two-wheel-drive sedan with only inches of ground clearance could have come this far. It was probably a vehicle belonging to one of the off-roaders or some hikers. I finally convinced myself that was what Fred must have heard, and went back to the mine.
For some stupid reason, the name Cerberus popped into my head when I saw the splintered floor again. It was the name of the dog guarding Hades I couldn’t remember earlier. The shaft consisted of a series of platforms with a ladder between each level. The rescue workers didn’t risk the danger of going below the level where they found the kids. It was a wonder the second platform didn’t collapse from the impact of their fall.
Paul Wilson said the pack had fallen to a lower level. Only a fool would have gone any further, and while I never claimed to be a genius, I had a trump card most fools didn’t. My Jeep had a winch with two hundred feet of cable I could use to lower myself into the pit. There was no question in my mind about retrieving the backpack. All I had to do was get the Jeep up to the mine without killing myself.
I let Fred play sentry, watching for Yeti, while I climbed back down to my Jeep and prepared to climb the pile of tailings. Going up the mule trail was out of the question because of the narrow switchbacks. The Jeep could never make those turns without tumbling sideways. The only option was to make it climb straight up the tailing pile and over the top. The ancient Jeep had manual lock-out hubs and a little switch in the glove compartment that would make all four wheels spin when needed. Unlike modern four-by-fours, where only one wheel per axle worked, the old Quadra-track’s used all their wheels.
No sooner had I started my ascent than I felt the Jeep going sideways. I began to wish I had used the winch to pull it to the top instead, but it was too late. Rocks and gravel were flying everywhere, and I was within seconds of the Jeep rolling down the hill and squashing me like the bug this place was named for.
My first instinct was to let up on the gas, but I knew that would be suicide, so I turned the wheel in the opposite direction of the slide, and floored the gas pedal. The tires bit into the gravel and propelled the Jeep to the top, like I knew what I was doing. Fred was a lot smarter than his master and had stayed behind to watch the show from a safe distance.
All of a sudden I heard hooting, horns, and whistling. The off-road riders had returned and stopped to watch the idiot in his old Jeep try to kill himself. The last thing I needed now was for one of them to leave the road and come up to join us. I didn’t worry about another four-wheeler trying it, but motorcycles were something else. I knew if we stayed here, it would be only minutes before one of the dirt-bike riders came to see if we needed help, so I summoned Fred into the Jeep, and pretended to leave.
The mule trail lead away from the mine and on toward Leadville, so I put the Jeep back into regular four-wheel drive, and acted like climbing the tailing had simply been to gain access to the trail. I didn’t have to go far before we were out of sight from the riders below where I stopped the Jeep and waited.
Fred jumped out and ran over to some rocks. The trail had been cut through an ancient landslide and there were rocks and boulders on both sides of it. I saw a creature scoot from under one pile and run for cover under another. It looked like a marmot, but Fred must have thought it was Chatter. I was so intent on watching the show that I nearly jumped out of my skin when my cell phone went off.
“Jake?” It was a voice I knew well.
“Bonnie! How are you?”
“Where have you been, Jake? I’ve been trying to get you all day.”
“I’m up on Mosquito Pass. Reception up here is pretty bad. I’m surprised you got me now.”
“What are you doing up there?”
“Enjoying the view while Fred chases Chatter’s cousin. You should see it, Bon. I found a little mule trail that must have been cut into the mountain by whoever dug the mine. I can see all the way to Leadville from here.”
“Are you crazy, Jake? Two people already lost their lives in there. Please don’t make it three.”
“It’s already three, don’t forget Drake. He was the first.”
When she didn’t respond quickly enough, I knew without the benefit of seeing her face that she didn’t like my wise-aleck reply. “Sorry, Bon Bon. I appreciate your concern, but Wilson thinks the kids had Julie’s copy of Tom Sawyer and I’ve got to get it back.”
“Please don’t go in there, Jake.”
“It okay, I’ll lower myself with my winch so there’s no danger of falling. Now tell me why you called. Are you okay?”
“I called to see if you wouldn’t mind coming to get me. Margot is driving me crazy. She won’t let me smoke, and doesn’t have a drop of booze anywhere.”
I laughed. “Is she there, Bon? I’d like to talk to her.”
Bonnie hesitated. Was I that transparent? “She’s not my mother, Jake. You don’t need her permission.”
“Sorry, Bon.”
“For your information, I’ve never felt better. The physical therapist can come to my home in Evergreen, just as she does here. I’ve already ordered a treadmill. All you have to do is pick it up for me on the way home.”
“Okay, Bon. Is tomorrow morning okay? Wherever you bought the treadmill will be closed by the time I get there tonight.” I knew Margot wouldn’t let her leave if she wasn’t all right.
“Tomorrow is fine if you promise not to go in that mine until I’m there. Otherwise, I’m calling Deputy White and tell him you’re up there.”
“You win, Bon. It’s getting too dark anyway. See you first thing tomorrow.” I didn’t like lying to her, but the last thing I needed right then was to have White know I was up there.
***
The sun was setting behind the snow-covered mountains on the west side of Leadville by the time I got off the phone with Bonnie. If memory served me right, those were Colorado’s two tallest peaks: Mount Elbert and Mount Massive. It would be dark soon and I needed to get back to work, but I had to capture the moment by taking a picture with my cell phone. The sun was moving so fast on the city below, it looked like one of those time-lapse movies on TV.
“Stand there a minute, Fred, so I can get your picture,” I said when he came running back.
He stopped long enough for me to capture a shot I was sure would go viral on YouTube. He could have been the poster boy for Bark magazine. His head was blocking out the sun, making it look like he had a halo.
***
The off-roaders and the mystery car were gone from the road below when we got back to the mine, reminding me of what little time I had before it got too dark to see, so I positioned the Jeep as close to the mine as I could and started playing out the cable. The surface there was flat and level. The only obstruction was the remains of tracks from an old ore cart that must have been used to haul debris from the mine, creating the pile of tailings I drove up earlier.
“Stay here and let me know if we get any visitors, Fred,” I said as I lowered myself down the shaft. I had thought about locking him in the Jeep, but knew my cell phone would be worthless inside the mine. He was all I had to go get help if something went wrong.