Abandon, стр. 49
“It’s okay. These are happy tears. God is so good.”
Harriet cocked her head. “Where are all the injuns?” she asked.
“How old are you, Harriet?”
“Six years.”
“I think you’re old enough to know something. Last night, God spoke to me. He told me that His judgment was coming down upon Abandon, that I was to be the instrument of His wrath, His brimstone and fire.”
“So there weren’t ever any heathens?”
“No, although at times today, God allowed me to believe there were. He let me see the heathens when I was standing at the Sawblade. Let me believe the lie. Showed me how to use it.”
“Then where’d everbody go?”
“Do you believe in God, Harriet?”
“Yes.”
“Does your father ever get upset with you? Like when you’re disobedient? When you don’t listen to what he says?”
“Yeah, when Mama’s gone, he hits my bottom real hard with the metal part of his belt.”
“But that’s his job to punish you when you misbehave. In the same way, God is the father of Abandon, and all the people who live here are His children. But do you know what?”
“What?”
“The people of this town were very wicked.”
“Why?”
“They were greedy. Sinful. They didn’t love God. Thought only of themselves and what they wanted. They were obsessed with gold, and some of them were very evil and did terrible things to others. They took what didn’t belong to them. Caused incredible pain.”
“That’s wrong. You’re supposed to be nice.”
“Yes, you are. And that’s why God decided to punish everyone who lived in Abandon.”
“What about Bethany and Mama?”
“Even them.”
“But they aren’t evil, are they?”
“Listen, Harriet. We can’t start questioning God. Why He chooses to punish some but not others. We might not understand, but that’s our shortcoming. We can only love and obey Him.”
Her bottom lip began to quiver. “I wanna see Mama.” “Come on, sweetie. Listen to me. God told me not to punish you. That He loves you. That your heart is good. He wants me to take care of you.”
“What about Mama and Daddy?”
“You need to shuck that question. Don’t ask it again.”
Harriet turned away from him and stared into the flames. Stephen put his hands on her delicate shoulders. “Let’s walk to my cabin,” he said. “I’ll build another fire and make us supper.”
“Did God punish Samantha?”
“No, sweetheart.” “She’s alone and scared at home on my bed.”
Stephen stood up, so tired that he felt he could lie down on his pine-bough mattress and sleep for thirty years.
“We’ll stop by your old house and get her.”
Stephen helped Harriet up and took her by the hand. Then the preacher and the child walked out of the church together.
The night was clear, the moon full and rising.
Infuse me with a peace that passeth all understanding.
Pinpoints of starlight twinkled, among them the rusty bulb of Mars.
Abandon lay dark and silent in its canyon, and from high above, Stephen heard a faint sound like a distant stamp mill.
They were beating on that iron door inside the mountain.
2009
SIXTY
A
bigail approached the iron door—no handle, no doorknob, no keyhole. Lawrence came up and pushed against it and yelled Quinn’s name.
She tried to rein back the fear in her voice. “Did that just happen?”
Lawrence backpedaled, then ran at the door and drove the heel of his boot into the metal.
It made a clatter that resonated through the cavern and died.
He collapsed on the rock and squeezed his ankle, wincing from the pain. Around the door’s perimeter, the rock had been worn down, chipped away. Abigail shone her headlamp over the surface of the metal. It was covered in marks of desperation—dings and numerous indentations, as if someone had assaulted the door with an assortment of implements. She saw bullet grooves, scattered dimples created by buckshot. In the middle section, a large swath of metal had been dented in, and she imagined only a boulder carried by a group of men could have made such an impression in the indomitable door.
June wandered over from the chamber. “What happened?” she asked.
“Quinn locked us in.”
“Why in the world would he do that?”
“No idea.”
June spent a moment pushing on the door. She suddenly screamed Quinn’s name.
“Save your energy,” Abigail said. “I think people have tried everything to break it down. Even ramming a boulder into it. And they, um, they obviously didn’t make it out.”
“Oh my God. We’re gonna die in here like the rest of them.” She staggered back and began to hyperventilate. “How is this . . . how is this—”
“Okay, hang on.” Lawrence struggled up off the rock. “Let’s everybody just take a breath. We can all get horrified and hysterical, but how’s that gonna save our lives? We’re still gonna be right here when we finally calm down, locked inside this mountain. So let’s skip the part where everyone freaks out. Most important thing now is light. It’s as important as oxygen, and it’s running out. We only need one headlamp going. Turn yours off. I’ll keep mine on.” Two headlamps went dark. “All right. Backpacks. Let’s find out what supplies we have to work with. I think I left . . . Fuck.” Lawrence ran over to the alcove and swept his headlamp in the vicinity of the ten burlap sacks. “It isn’t here. I left my pack near the gold, and now it’s gone. I had some rope. Batteries. Water.”
“Mine’s gone, too,” June said. “I left it by the door before we walked into the chamber. All I have is Em’s camera.”
“I still have mine,” Abigail said. She unclipped her hip belt and knelt down on the rock and unzipped it as Lawrence provided light. “So, I’ve got . . . not much. Gloves. Hat. Note pad. Roll of film. Two granola bars. Matches. Two water bottles, but only one’s full. Damn, I thought I had extra batteries.”
“All right, let’s sit down and talk this out. I’m turning my headlamp off for now.”
They sat together in the perfect darkness, fifteen feet from the iron door. Abigail closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths in an attempt to slow her heart and settle her mind.
Lawrence said, “I know it’s creepy in here, and we’re surrounded by the remains of people who died because they were locked in this mine, but I would urge us to keep them and their fate as far from our thoughts as possible.”
June wept softly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m trying not to.”
Abigail reached out, took hold of her hand.
“We have three headlamps, and the brutal truth is, if we run out of light before we find a way out, we will die in here. We should store the headlamps we aren’t using in Abby’s pack so they don’t get damaged. We also have thirty-two ounces of water. That’s barely more than a glass each. We’ll drink in small sips, every few hours, make it last as long as possible. Hopefully, there’s water somewhere in this cave. Who knows if it’s fit to drink, but we may have to try. Same deal with the granola bars. We’ll ration them out in little bites over time.”
“How long can we survive once the water runs out?” June asked.
“Three days. Maybe longer, since heat’s not gonna be an issue. So now we have an important decision to make. We can’t just sit here and hope to be rescued, because even if search-and-rescue comes to Abandon looking for us, they sure as hell won’t find us in here.”
“Maybe we could get some rocks and chip away around the door,” June said.
Abigail said, “That’s one option, but I looked at the door, and it’s my sense that that’s the big mistake the residents of Abandon made. They tried to break down the door or to chip around it. But this is hard, hard rock in here, and I’m certain we’d die of thirst before we made any real progress. I bet that most of the people in here wore themselves out fooling with that door. Then all they could do was lie down in that chamber to die, with no strength left to go look for more water or another way out.”