We’re now stuck between the two sets of doors. Twisting back to the black button, Viv pounds it as hard as she can.
There’s an even louder mechanical hiss as the doors in front of us rumble. Viv looks back at me. I expect her to be relieved. But the way her eyes jump around… She’s hiding it well, but she’s definitely scared. I don’t blame her.
As the doors churn open, a burst of bright light and a matching gust of cold wind come whipping through the hairline crack. It blows my hair back, and we both shut our eyes. The wind dies fast as the two zones equalize. I can already taste the difference in the air. Sweeter… almost sharp on my tongue. Instead of sucking in millions of dust particles, I feel a blast of icy air cooling my lungs. It’s like drinking from a dirty puddle, then having a glass of purified water. As I finally open my eyes, it takes me a few seconds to adjust. The light is too bright. I lower my eyes and blink back to normalcy.
The floor is bright white linoleum. Instead of a narrow tunnel, we’re in a wide-open, stark white room that’s bigger than an ice-skating rink. The ceiling rises to at least twenty feet, and the right-hand wall is covered with brand-new circuit breakers — top-notch electricals. Along the floor, hundreds of red, black, and green wires are bundled together in electronic braids that’re as thick as my neck. On my left, there’s an open alcove labeled Changing Station, complete with cubbies for dirty boots and mine helmets. Right now, though, the alcove’s filled with lab tables, a half-dozen bubble-wrapped computer hubs and routers, and two state-of-the-art slick, black computer servers. Whatever Wendell Mining is doing down here, they’re still setting up.
I turn to Viv. Her eyes are locked on the stacks of cardboard boxes piled all around the immaculate white room. On the side of each box, there’s one word written in black Magic Marker: Lab.
She looks down at the oxygen detector. “21.1 percent.”
Even better than what we had up top.
“What the hell’s going on?” she asks.
I shake my head, unable to answer. It doesn’t make any sense. I look around at the polished chrome and the marble tabletops and replay the question over and over in my head: What’s a multimillion-dollar laboratory doing eight thousand feet below the surface of the earth?
48
Down in the basement of the red brick building, Janos stopped at the charging station for the battery packs and mine lights. He’d been there once before — right after Sauls hired him. In the six months since, nothing had changed. Same depressing hallway, same low ceiling, same dirt-caked equipment.
Taking a closer look, he counted two openings in the charging station — one on each side. Thinking they were playing the odds, they gambled, he realized. That’s how it always is, especially when people are panicking. Everybody gambles.
As he moved further up the hallway, Janos stepped past the wooden benches and entered the large room with the elevator shaft. Avoiding the shaft, he headed for the wall with the phone and fire alarm. No one goes down without first making a call.
“Hoist…” the operator answered.
“Hey, there — was hoping you could help me out,” Janos said as he pressed the receiver to his ear. “I’m looking for some friends… two of them… and was just wondering if you sent them down in the cage, or if they’re still up top?”
“From Ramp Level, I sent one guy down, but I’m pretty sure he was alone.”
“You positive? He should’ve definitely been with someone…”
“Honey, all I do is move ’em up and down. Maybe his friend went in up top.”
Janos looked up through the elevator shaft at the level that was directly above. That’s where most people came in… but Harris and Viv… they’d be looking to keep it quiet. That’s why they would’ve followed the tunnel down here…
“You sure he didn’t just go down by himself?” the operator asked.
But just as Janos was about to answer, he stopped. His first wife called it intuition. His second wife called it lion’s instinct. Neither was right. It’d always been more cerebral that that. Don’t just follow your prey. Think like them. Harris and Viv were trapped. They’d be searching for a safety net… and they’d look everywhere to find it…
Gripping the edge of the short wall, Janos slid around to the opposite side, where a square piece of wood held fifty-two nails. He focused on the two metal tags labeled 15 and 27. Two tags. They were still together.
Swiping both tags from the board, he looked down at them in his hand. Everybody gambles, he said to himself — but what’s most important to remember is that at some point, everybody also loses.
49
“Think they know we’re here?” Viv asks, shutting off her mine light.
I look around, checking the corners of the laboratory. The brackets are attached to the wall, and exposed wiring dangles down, but the surveillance cameras aren’t up yet. “I think we’re clear.”
As I said, she’s done taking my word for it. “Hello… anyone home?” she calls out.
No one answers.
Stepping deeper into the lab, I point to the trail of muddy footprints along the otherwise stark white floor. It weaves back and toward the far left corner of the room, then down another corridor in the rear. Only one way to go…
“I thought you said Matthew authorized the land transfer to Wendell a few days ago,” Viv points out as we head toward the back corner. “How’d they get all this built so quick?”
“They’ve been working on the request since last year — my guess is, that was just a formality. In a town like this, I bet they figured no one would mind the sale of a dilapidated mine.”
“You sure? I thought when you spoke to the mayor… I thought you said he was rumbling.”
“Rumbling?”
“Angry,” she clarifies. “Raging.”
“He wasn’t angry — no… he was just mad he wasn’t consulted — but for everyone else, it still brings life back to the town. And even if they don’t know the full extent of it, as far as I can tell, there’s nothing illegal about what Wendell’s done.”
“Maybe,” she says. “Though it depends what they’re building down here…”
As we head further down the hallway, there’s a room off to our right. Inside, a large wipe-off board leans against a four-drawer file cabinet and a Formica credenza. There’s also a brand-new metal desk. There’s something strangely familiar about it.
“What?” Viv asks.
“Ever see one of those desks before?”
She takes a long hard look at it. “I don’t know… they’re kinda standard.”
“Very standard.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“They just redid some of our staff offices. We got the same ones for all our legislative assistants. Those desks… they’re government issue.”
“Harris, those desks are in half the offices in America.”
“I’m telling you, they’re government issue,” I insist.
Viv looks back at the desk. I let the silence drive home the point.
“Time-out… time, time, time — so now you think the government built all this?”
“Viv, take a look around. Wendell said they wanted this place for the gold, and there’s no gold. They said they were here to mine, and there’s no mining. They said they’re a small South Dakota company, and they’ve got the entire friggin’ Batcave down here. It’s all right in front of our face — why would you possibly believe that they’re really who they say they are?”
“That doesn’t mean they’re a front for the government.”