"From here on out we whisper," Lewis said. "Ah don' know if'n the mine's got people out here'r not, but Ah wouldn' be supprised. Their security men are the nastiest summabitches ya'd ever wanna meet."
"Tell me about it. How far is the cleft?"
"A ways. That motorbike a yourn ain't exactly sneaky quiet."
Matt pulled the bike off into the woods and secured it to a tree. Then he took his compass out of his jeans pocket and checked it with a penlight.
"Which direction's your farm?"
"Back thar."
Southeast, Matt noted, maybe five miles.
"We go thet way," Lewis said, motioning along the track.
They walked for ten minutes — about half a mile. From somewhere to the right they had begun to hear running water.
Overlaying it were the noises of insects and peepers, and the occasional call of an owl. The forest at night.
"Where's that stream go?" Matt asked.
"It cuts down inta the hill rot whar wer headed. Runs unner-groun' fer quite a ways, then comes out in the valley."
"Where's it come from?"
"Runs past the farm. Thas all Ah know. Ready?"
"Ready."
Lewis indicated a spot up ahead. Matt could make out a change in the darkness, but little else. Moments later he realized the change in shading was the steep side of a rocky hill. From their right, the stream, perhaps eight feet wide, raced into an opening in the rock.
"They's a bunch a ways inta the caves," Lewis said. "But this un's the cleft, an' that's what yer mystry man writ. It's also the one ain't likely ta be watched. Don' seem lak nobody's about, but we'd best keep it down jes the same."
They stepped into the stream and ducked beneath a ledge to enter the hill through an opening that was about five feet high and three feet wide — the cleft. The water churned and deepened to their knees as it rolled through with them, then broke sharply to the right and over a foot-high drop to a long, dark pool.
"Lak Ah done said, this is jes one a the ways inta the hill," Lewis whispered. "They cain't brang the barrels in by this way, though. Too narrah with too many drop-offs."
"Then how?"
"Some a t'other paths are wider, else they jes haul 'em back through the mine."
"This tunnel goes all the way through the hill to the mine?"
"It does jes thet. Downhill all the way. The mine entrance is way below whar we are. The storage cave's plumb in the middle."
"Lewis, how long has it been since you worked for the mine?"
"Well… we ain't done none for ten year or more."
"I'm surprised they let you live, knowing what you do."
"Oh, they considered sendin' men out, all rot, but then they got smart an' sent money instead."
"They've been bribing you for ten years?"
"Ah s'pose ya could say that, yes."
"Lewis, you know I'm going to close that dump down, if it takes the rest of my life."
"Ah know."
"Well, I don't know how much money you guys will lose when your payments stop, but I want to tell you how much I appreciate your doing this."
"Ya bin good ta us," Lewis said simply.
Matt panned his flash over the tunnel ahead. The walls, ceiling, and floor appeared to narrow like a corridor in Alice in Wonderland.
"How low and narrow does this get?" he whispered.
"Ya kin make it through," Lewis said. "Jes don't take no deep breaths." He snickered.
"Lewis, I don't know how to tell you this, but I… I have trouble with tight, enclosed places. Always have. I get, like, panicky in them."
"Now, whar in the hell did a Wes Verginny boy come up with their1 Ya gonna make it jes fine, Doc. They's only a few places whar yer gonna have ta crawl an' squeeze through."
"Jesus," Matt muttered.
"It's bin a while since Ah bin in here, so we'd best move slowly. Tain't the tight places ya got ta worry about. It's the drop-offs."
Keeping their lights fixed on the damp stone floor, the two of them headed steadily downward into the mountain. The sound of running or falling water was a constant, at times seeming quite close, at times echoing through a side tunnel. Twice they had to press against a wall and walk sideways along the edge of a precipice. Once, Matt deliberately kicked some pebbles into the dark maw. The splash was barely audible.
"Ah don' thank y' wanna fall down thar," Lewis said.
The narrow tunnel took a number of turns, and Matt began to wonder if they would have trouble making their way out again. But Lewis seemed to be moving with confidence through the stale, heavy air. Once, an especially low, tight passage forced him to his knees. Matt could not get down low enough and had to negotiate ten or twelve feet wriggling along on his belly, Marine style. His pulse instantly began pounding. He found himself thinking about cave hunters and wondering how they could possibly experience anything but terror traversing narrow slits in rock with no hope of being able to kneel, turn around, or even roll over, and no certainty that the way wouldn't suddenly end. The notion made him queasy and tightened the muscles between his shoulder blades.
Shortly after they were able to stand, the tunnel widened and began to receive broad tributaries from the left. The air became less oppressively heavy.
"Thar," Lewis whispered, pointing down one such tunnel. "Thet's one a the ways we brung the barrels in. Hauled 'em on dollies, we did."
"Who does it now?" Matt asked.
"Beats me. Per all Ah know, they done stopped."
"I don't think so… Wait. Do you smell that?"
"Ah do. The cave wer after ain't too far ahead."
The odor was of chemicals — sweet, pungent, and slightly nauseating. Gasoline, toluene — Matt tried to pin it down, but couldn't with certainty. Gotcha! he thought. The frustrating years of trying to show the public what sort of morality was running Belinda Coal and Coke were about to bear fruit. In addition to the chemical smell, the sound of rushing water was again echoing off the damp stone walls. To their left, just beyond where Lewis was standing, Matt could make out a small river, bursting through a wide rent in the rock. His flashlight beam reflected off the dark water and lit the open space beyond. Overhead, the ceiling sloped upward. The organic odor was now intense. Whatever sorts of chemicals were up ahead certainly weren't well contained.
"Lewis," he whispered, "is this it?"
"Rot thar," Lewis said, waving his light ahead, then cutting it off.
For nearly a minute, the two men stood together in the darkness. The sound of the rushing river filled the cavern, which Matt now sensed was quite vast.
"Go easy, an' move right," Lewis ordered. "No more light 'til wer sure we got no compny."
"I can see them, Lewis," Matt said excitedly. "I can see the barrels!"
Looming ahead, filling only a fraction of the chamber, were two huge pyramids of oil drums, twenty feet across at the base and ten feet high. A third stack was just taking shape. Beyond the barrels, almost 180 degrees from the tunnel through which they had entered, was another, wider access, probably coming from the mine. A pale film of light, filtering in from somewhere deep in that tunnel, was what was backlighting the barrels.
They remained pressed against the chamber wall, still some distance from the barrels. Lewis switched on his flash, which was considerably more powerful than Matt's, and handed it over. The sight in front of them brought a knot of anger and sadness to Matt's chest. Many of the oil drums appeared to be in decent shape, but some of them were corroded. Several of those — six or seven that he could see from where they stood — had emptied onto the stone floor. Not ten yards behind the stacks, a broad stream was rippling through the cavern, headed in the general direction of the mine. It was impossible to believe the toxins weren't passing through major work areas, and from there into the environment.
"Son of a bitch," he murmured. "We'd best move quickly, Lewis, I have no idea what these fumes are doing to our lungs or brains."