‘Mine isn’t much better . . . The White House wanted this place closed down and they needed evidence of the shenanigans going on down here. We decided to pool with the feds in the end but, well, you know better than anyone how that one ended . . . It was my stupid ego that killed me. I could’ve got out earlier but I had to go that one step beyond where I was asked to.’
‘Yeah, that’ll do it sometimes.’
‘How’d you get in here without our help?’
‘I didn’t. My lot conned the White House into running a security exercise.We offered to test the prison - see if I could escape from it.’
‘They bought that?’
Stratton put out his hands - he was the proof.
‘So how’s it going?’
‘I’m still working on it.’
They both chuckled.
The lights suddenly went dimmer.
‘The thought of Mandrick getting away with this really pisses me off,’ she said.
‘Maybe he won’t.’
‘I’d like to know it, though . . . I hope the lights don’t go off completely,’ Christine said, her fears momentarily getting the better of her.
‘There’s a box of candles in that room up there,’ Stratton said, indicating the transformer room.‘We won’t sit in the dark.’
She looked at him again. ‘You’re very comforting, aren’t you? You been in this business long?’
‘A few years . . . I always believed there was a solution, even to the most desperate situation. Somewhere, somehow there’s one for this. Now, maybe it requires a much higher intelligence or strength than we possess to find it.’
‘Or luck.’
‘Or luck . . . But it’s there.’
Christine noted that the water had risen several inches since they’d climbed the rack. ‘I think we should head for a higher spot to sit or we’ll soon have to swim—’
‘Shh!’ Stratton interrupted.
She obeyed, watching him, his brow furrowed, eyes searching the far wall for something.
Stratton had picked up on a sound that did not belong with the others. It came again. A single short ping, like metal striking metal, but muffled as if it was a long way away.
Christine heard it too. ‘Others made it down here.’
That was a possible explanation but Stratton had another on his mind.
The noise came again. He jumped off the rack into the water that was now close to his shoulders, started to wade through it, then changed to the breaststroke and powered himself towards the door.
‘What makes you think they’re in any better situation than we are?’ she shouted.
He ignored her and swam through the door. The lights flickered. Christine was suddenly alone.
‘I’ll check it out with you,’ she called out. She jumped in and followed him.
She caught him up outside and he headed deeper into the main tunnel, the surface of the water now close to the ceiling. Stratton stuck to the side closest to the scrubber room, hoping to find an opening or a corridor that would lead to where the noise had come from. He considered the possibility of not being able to return to the scrubber room but he still felt compelled to find the source of the noise. He could never ignore his instincts when they were this strong.
Stratton came to the top of a door and glanced back to see that Christine was closing in on him. He ducked beneath the surface to feel if it was open.
It was slightly ajar and he heaved against it, wedging his body into the gap and pushing the door open wide enough to get through.
He broke the surface to find himself in a small room with a raised floor. A single emergency light provided some weak illumination. He pulled himself out of the water onto the raised ground.
Christine broke the surface and swam to the edge of the floor. After pulling herself out of the water she stood beside Stratton, rubbing her arms against the cold that was gripping her. Stratton put a finger to his lips. They were in a miners’ storeroom. There were piles of picks, hammers and shovels, drill bits and chisels, mining helmets, harnesses and overalls. Stratton tested the light on one of the helmets. It worked and he left it on to provide more light.
The sound came again, still with the muffled effect that made it seem like it was coming from beyond the walls although now it was louder than before. Stratton put his hands on the wall as if trying to feel where the noise was coming from.
Christine looked back at the water rising above the top of the door they had just come through. She wondered if they would be able to make it back to the scrubber room.
The metallic tap came again. Stratton followed the wall to the edge of the floor where it disappeared under the water and he crouched to examine the spot. He climbed off the platform into the water and quietly sank below the surface.
Christine watched as the water was disturbed further along the wall.
A moment later Stratton surfaced. ‘There’s a way through.’
‘Can you tell me why we’re doing this?’ she asked.
‘Not exactly,’ he replied.
She nodded. ‘OK.’
‘It’s a hole, right below me, a metre or so down. I’ll see you on the other side.’ He ducked below the surface again and was gone. Christine did not lack courage and lowered herself into the water. The cold attacked her immediately. She was blindly following a man she didn’t know into oblivion and was doing so without much of a second thought. It didn’t feel like the wrong thing to do, either. She took a breath and ducked under the water.
Stratton surfaced inside a large natural cave that was brightly illuminated by a string of small halogen spotlights hooked onto the walls. There was a large rudimentary triangular metal framework made up of dozens of pieces of iron lengths welded or fixed together with clamps, bolts and cables. An acetylene bottle and gun leant against a wall. A pulley hung from the apex of the framework near the ceiling with a cable running through it, one end disappearing into the water, the other over a rocky plateau above him.
Christine surfaced beside him, wiped the water from her face and eyes and looked surprised at the contents of the cave.
Stratton climbed out onto the plateau to see Hamlin propped against a winch that was secured to the rock floor. He had a hammer in one hand and a chisel in the other. He looked as if he was asleep. Christine climbed out of the water as Stratton went to Hamlin’s side and put a hand on his chest.
Hamlin opened his eyes and took a moment to focus on the face above him. ‘Ahh, the ferryman,’ he said, a smile forming on his lips. ‘Come to take me to Hades? I do believe I’m finally ready.’
The end of the cable that came from the pulley at the top of the derrick-like construction was secured onto the winch drum which Hamlin had evidently been trying to free.
‘How you doing, Tusker?’ Stratton asked in a soft, friendly voice.
‘Not too good . . . Gann screwed me up,’ Hamlin said, releasing the hammer and chisel. ‘I warned you he was a son of a bitch.’
‘If it makes you feel any better he isn’t any more.’
Hamlin nodded approval and as he took in a breath it was accompanied by a gasp of agony. Several of his ribs were clearly cracked or broken. He took a moment to concentrate on his breathing, keeping it as shallow as possible to reduce the pain. ‘Gettin’ outta here is all I’ve ever wanted to do,’ he said.
‘You can still make it,’ Stratton said, fishing for the ‘how’ of Hamlin’s escape plan, wondering how lucid the older man was and if he would share whatever it was he had been coveting. Stratton had no doubt that Hamlin had hatched some kind of plan.
Hamlin shook his head in disagreement. ‘Gettin’ through that goddamned sump nearly killed me . . . You know how many times I’ve swum through there? Gotta be more’n a thousand.’
‘How’d you find this place?’
‘They let me alone for hours at a time to repair the mining stores next door. I found it when I was snoopin’ around one day. I flooded it so they’d never find it. Last two years’ve been the most enjoyable I’ve had in any prison. Maybe even beats some years when I wasn’t . . . Building it a little at a time, day by day, gave me something to wake up to.’