And Julie had allowed Matt to walk her to the Jeep and drive away from the old Tonopah Mine without her son. She wanted to scream at them all, to tell them there was no way in holy hell she was going to be able to rest until Tim was back home where he belonged. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, she wouldn’t be able to rest, she wouldn’t be able to eat. She just simply would not be able to do it.
But she didn’t scream at them, didn’t do much of anything, in fact. Matt strapped her into the passenger’s seat and drove home, the Jeep bouncing and jolting along the old rutted path just as it had done on the way in.
She walked into the house, her insides simultaneously empty and filled with fear. What if the searchers never found Tim? What if her son simply disappeared, just as those miners supposedly had a hundred years ago, lost forever without a trace? What if that happened?
The moment she entered the house, Julie crossed the living room and walked straight down the short hallway to Tim’s room. She had to sit on his bed, to smell his pillow, hold one of his T-shirts in her hands. She had to. It was a visceral need. She needed to feel her son’s presence and convince herself of his existence and that she really was going to see him again.
She opened his bedroom door and her breath caught in her throat.
Lying unmoving on the bed, staring up at her with unblinking eyes, was Tim McKenna.
He was filthy. Dirt and dust covered his clothing. It was smeared through his hair and on every inch of exposed skin. His sneakers, formerly white, were now a dull brown. The pillow behind his head had morphed from white to brown as well, and so had the bed covers under Tim’s prone body.
Julie crossed the room to his bed, sobbing without realizing she was doing so, and leaned down to hug her son. He stiffened slightly but otherwise did not move. He didn’t cry or laugh or return her hug. He lay on the bed, staring at nothing.
Julie leaned back, her eyes wet with tears, and gazed into the face of her son. “Thank God you’re okay,” she said. “What were you thinking going out to that awful mine, especially all by yourself?”
He didn’t respond.
Julie turned and saw Matt standing in the doorway. He was watching with a look on his face that Julie could not decipher. “We need to let the searchers know he’s okay…”
He nodded. “I’ll make the call,” he said, and retreated down the hallway toward the phone in the kitchen.
“Look at you,” she fretted. “Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?”
“I’m fine,” Tim answered, and his voice sounded somehow… muted. Unlike his normal voice. Almost inhuman, she thought, and quickly pushed the notion away. Where had that come from?
Julie realized with a start that those were the first words her normally gregarious son had spoken since she walked into his room. Well, of course he’s a little off. He’s been through a terrible ordeal. He’ll be okay. He just needs some rest and then he’ll be himself again.
4
Matt watched as Tim McKenna sat in the stuffed chair in front of the big-screen TV in the living room, answering questions from Tonopah Police detectives while his mother hovered protectively a few feet away. The chair was normally reserved for Matt, but this afternoon Julie had commandeered it for Tim to use during the police interview. The boy was small and the chair was large; it looked as though he was in the process of being devoured by the thing.
Matt tried to stay out of the way, standing in the background watching the interaction, an indefinable uneasiness eating away at him. He had struggled to make a connection with his girlfriend’s son in the year since the two of them had moved from Harrisburg to Tonopah, there was no question about that, so he was used to awkward conversations and stilted silences. They were par for the course where Tim was concerned, especially when his mother wasn’t around.
But this was different. Every time he was asked a question — by the investigators or by his mom — he answered in almost exactly the same way.
“Why in the world did you go out to that old abandoned mine?
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you realize it could be dangerous?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did you manage to fall into the mine shaft? Did you slip and fall?”
“I don’t remember.”
And then the biggie, the question Matt himself was struggling with: “How did you get out of the shaft all by yourself?” He had seen the tunnel while waiting with Julie at the old mining camp, and it sloped dangerously downward just a few feet inside the entrance, becoming almost vertical. It didn’t seem possible that a twelve year old boy, alone and with no equipment, could fall into it and manage to get himself back out again.
That question, like all the others, was answered the same way: “I don’t remember.”
It wasn’t just the words Tim was speaking; the whole vibe he gave off was disturbing: Body posture rigid, eyes unfocused and staring into the distance. It was as if the spark of life had disappeared from the kid’s face. The worst part wasn’t even something the police officers would notice. The worst part, well, Matt couldn’t even be sure he was seeing it himself.
Tim seemed to be… changing, physically. Becoming somehow bulkier, like he had started working out, only the changes were happening too fast to be from some workout regimen. Besides, Tim wasn’t working out, he knew that. And his hands looked bigger, fingernails longer, almost… claw-like. Matt blinked twice and stared at Julie’s son, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. He was almost certain.
Matt could sense the frustration of the officers. He knew they would give up soon. After issuing a stern warning to the boy to stay away from the old mine, they would look at each other, shrug their shoulders and go home, chalking the entire incident up to childish foolishness, thanking their lucky stars they had recovered the kid alive.
Maybe that was what they believed. Maybe that was even what Julie believed. And maybe that was how it had started. But Matt Hardiman had lived in Tonopah, Pennsylvania his whole life. He had heard all the stories about the Tonopah Mine. Hell, he even knew a couple of guys who’d had relatives — great-grandfathers, he thought it was — vanish without a trace way back around 1900.
So Matt knew better. Tim had gone into the Tonopah Mine and somehow come out a changed person. And that scared the shit out of him.
The bedroom felt stuffy and hot; Matt tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Julie had sat up with Tim for a couple of hours after his usual bedtime, trying to comfort him or maybe just trying to get a handle on what the hell had happened to her son. She kept talking about how Tim had undergone such a horrible trauma and would be himself soon, just wait and see, but to Matt it sounded like so much wishful thinking. In his opinion she was whistling past the graveyard.
Matt had stayed up for a while, too, but he had to work in the morning — trauma or no trauma, bills still had to be paid — so eventually he said goodnight and shuffled off to bed. Julie had offered up a wan smile and Tim seemed not to notice when Matt tousled his hair. He stared straight ahead, body stiff and unmoving, as had become his habit since returning from the mine.
Later, Matt had no idea what time it was, Julie slid in beside him, mumbling something about Tim finally falling asleep. She had gone on to say there was no way she way she would be able to get any rest tonight, but a few minutes later had dropped off into what seemed to be a deep sleep.