Private Gold

Chapter 24

Joey and Isobel raced down the tunnel. Joey’s flashlight shone on the walls, glimmering off the shards of minerals trapped in the dark bedrock and the piles of ore stored along the tunnel’s sides.

As they ran, the noise increased, becoming a pandemonium.

The clanging of tools, the scream of metal on rock. The desperate cries of men coming from deeper underground, although there were too many voices to make out the words.

“What’s happening?”

“A rock fall, a gas leak, a flood...” Scenarios spun through Joey’s head as he sprinted to the tunnel’s end, keeping his head down to avoid the low, rough ceiling. Here was the shaft, but there was a grate over it — a massive structure that must weigh half a ton. And below the grate, somebody had run a pipe through a gap in the rock. Gas was hissing through it, coming from a large machine that was rattling nearby.

“Air!” Now he could hear some of the cries clearly. “Help us! Air!”

“They can’t get out,” Isobel said, her voice filled with horror. “They’re trapped down there. How can we lift the grate?”

Moving it with manpower alone would be impossible for two people; this was a job for ten. But Joey realized there was a more serious issue.

“What’s going through that pipe?” Leaning forward, Joey examined the machine. If the miners’ escape route had been deliberately blocked, it was likely that these fumes were toxic. Somebody was making sure these men would not get out alive.

“We’re here to help you!” he shouted down.

In answer came more desperate cries. “Air, please! Air.”

Something as basic as carbon monoxide from a simple gasoline engine would swiftly be lethal in the confined space where the zama zamas worked, and this looked like a gasoline engine to him.

“Stop shouting!” he yelled to the men below. “Save your breath — breathe slowly, stand still. I’m going to try and get you out of here.”

He thought they’d heard and understood, because gradually, the shouting and banging subsided.

First step — turn this damn thing off.

“Where the hell is the ignition switch?” he muttered.

“Here?” Isobel pointed to a steel panel. “Perhaps it’s behind this.”

“It’s been locked.” Joey’s heart sank. The panel looked to be a homemade addition, simple but effective. It had been welded onto the engine, and the switch was indeed behind it.

“If we can’t turn it off, let’s pull it up. That should buy them a little more time. At least they won’t be getting directly flooded by it.”

“Good idea.”

With his heart pounding hard, Joey pulled up the hose, working as fast as he could. The pipe felt warm to the touch, throbbing as the fumes pulsed through it. Drawing it through the narrow gap was a difficult job, and he was aware of the seconds ticking inexorably by as more contaminated air gathered in the space below. Sweat trickled down his temples and he shook it away.

Finally, it was up. He grabbed the end of the hose and ran with it, back toward the entrance, dropping it as far from the grate as he could. It didn’t stretch very far, but at least now the fumes were not being channeled directly into the rocky chamber.

Of course, the downside was that the fumes were now spewing into the badly ventilated passage where Joey and Isobel needed to work.

“How much time do we have?” Isobel sounded anxious.

“A few minutes, I hope.” Joey coughed as the petrol fumes caught in his throat. In the precious time that remained, they had to figure out how to lift the heavy grate, so that they could free the zama zamas.

Joey shone the flashlight round, looking for anything that could help. A ladder lay nearby that must have been pulled up before the grate was lowered. So where had the grate been before that?

On the opposite wall was a thick steel hook that must have held it up. But now it was lowered, there was no way of lifting it again, and nothing to secure it with.

He had rope in his car, though... lots of it.

Joey was starting to feel dizzy and light-headed. His head was pounding.

“Outside,” he gasped.

The clean night air poured into his lungs, flooding him with oxygen again. Beside him, he saw Isobel breathing deeply, but her face was drawn.

“How are we going to move that grate?”

Out here in the fresh night air, his head felt suddenly clearer.

“We can use the rope and the hook. Create a pulley system.”

“Using the car!” Isobel completed his thought. “Run the rope from the grating, up through the hook, then out to the car’s tow hitch. Drive the car forward, and it will lift the grating up to the hook.”

“It could just work.”

“It has to work,” she replied.