‘Jake, what if no one comes? What happens if no one ever comes?’
‘Shut up Tony, someone will come poking around same as we did.’
‘But Jake, we didn’t know about the pit, that’s how we fell into it’ Tony sobbed a little, tears running down his dusty face.
He was sixteen, not a kid, not a man yet either. They had been trapped down a mineshaft for three days, no one had been by.
Maybe no one would come around the old mines for a long time.
Tony was past the initial hopefulness, reality was settling in hard.
Jake and him had come to steal tools from the mineshack. They were hoping to find explosives too, that would be cool.
It was dark, and they didn’t see the open pit until the old car was over the edge. It went straight down, sixty feet or so, and the doors coudn’t open. Standing on the upended trunk after breaking out the back window is still way too far down. The sides crumble when they try to climb them.
Three days, no water, they are very dry and very tired. Their voices are hoarse, almost a croak from shouting for help. Now it is getting dark again up there, it’s always dark down in the pit. The bats start to flutter upward and begin diving for insects in the last of the light.
Ears straining, they listen to every noise, Jake lit matches the first night, whenever he heard a noise, thinking someone may see the light and investigate. The noises are mostly dirt clods falling, with a rain of sand sifting down after them. He lit more matches the second night, but he is almost out of matches now.
They tear pieces of upholstery and the visors to fuel a signal fire if there is any sign of anyone around.
‘Go to sleep Tony,’ Jake says, ‘I’ll stay up for a while, then you stay awake so I can sleep.”
Tony tries to sleep, but twitches awake every few minutes. He startles up, and kicks out before he has his eyes open. The area they are lying on is uncomfortable and cramped, they rearrange themselves, and settle down again.
The bats flutter past again, deeper into the pit. Night passes into another stifling desert day.
‘If I could get to the radiator, we could get water.’ Tony says. ‘If you could’ says Jake.
‘Jake, If I get out of here, I’m never stealing again, it’s like karma, we brought bad luck down on us.’
Tony got the pen out of the glove compartment, and wrote his name on the overhead liner. Then he put his birthdate and the date they fell in. He said, ‘should I put your name Jake, or you wanna do it?’
‘Shut up Tony, don’t be such a sap, do whatever you want.’
Tony wrote Jakes name and his birthdate and the day they fell in for him, too. Then he made three hash marks.
He thought he should say a prayer, so he did, then he wrote ’I’m sorry, to his Mama, his Gramma, and his Sisters, and to the Dad he barely remembered.
He wrote ‘I love you’ after that. He was crying then, and couldn’t see to write anymore.
Jake sat on the trunk for hours, he had worn his fingers raw and bleeding trying to climb the sides. He was mumbling prayers. Tony left him alone.
The day stretched endless, and the night fell hard.
Tony was sore and weak, his mouth was dry, he could barely speak.
Jake was worse off, he didn’t seem to have any strength left. He was silent.
They didn’t bother to try to keep watch, yet neither slept, really. They started awake, mumbling, over and over. They didn’t know yet, but they were dying.
Jake thought he heard something. He was dreaming.
He heard a car in his dream, his Grandfather was coming to get him.
He was so happy to see his Grandfather in his dream, he cried.
His Grandfather said,' I sent someone for you Jacob, wake up.'
Jake scrambled to the open end. He did hear something! An engine sound, real!
Tony! Tony! A car!
He lit the last of two matches, tried to get it to catch on the plastic and velour scraps. It sputtered and died before the fire caught.
The engine sounds were more distinct. Tony whispered, ‘this is the last match! Cut it in half, give us another chance.’ Jake carefully split the match, struck it…it sparked and died. They could still hear an engine, they shouted hoarsely.
Jake gave it a last try, he struck the half match holding it close to the scraps. It caught, and a small flame grew.
The fire began smoking, it got larger, the engine sounds continued.
Tony and Jake were crying, screaming, though little sound escaped.
A voice called to them, ‘Someone down there? I got a winch, grab onto it.’
There was a jerrycan of water in the truck bed. Warm, delicious water.Life.
The miner put his old truck into gear, and bounced along the rutted dirt road in the dark. ‘What are you guys doing so far from the road?
You’re lucky I came by to check my tool shack, thieves break in to it once in a while.’
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