Page 41 of Silent Grave

Sheila and Carol sat in the mobile command center—really just an oversized van with radio equipment—watching monitors that showed various mine exits. The cramped space smelled of coffee and electronics. Outside, the protesters' voices had died down as night settled in, though most of them remained, their camps marked by battery-powered lanterns and the glow of cell phones.

"Tell me more about your sister," Sheila said, studying Carol's face in the blue light of the monitors. "What made her choose to survey these mines?"

Carol's hands were wrapped around a foam cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. "Diana's always been drawn to difficult projects. After the EPA identified potential groundwater contamination, she volunteered to map the extent of the damage." A ghost of a smile crossed her face. "Our father used to say she'd climb into Hell itself if she thought there was interesting geology down there."

"And she's experienced with these mines specifically?"

"She's been surveying them for months." Carol set down her untouched coffee. "Usually with a team, but lately she's been coming alone. Said she needed to confirm something, but wouldn't tell me what."

That caught Sheila's attention. "When did that change? The working alone part?"

"About three weeks ago. Right after, she met with someone from the mining company." Carol frowned, thinking. "She came home agitated that night. Kept going through old survey maps, making calls. The next day, she started carrying a gun."

"A gun?" Sheila leaned forward. "That's a pretty significant change in behavior."

"I thought so too, but she just said it was better to be safe than sorry." Carol's voice cracked slightly. "I should have pushed harder, made her tell me what was really going on."

Sheila watched Carol twist her coffee cup, destroying the foam in tiny, anxious movements. The resemblance between the sisters was clear in the photos Carol had shown her—same silver hair, same sharp features—but where Diana was described as intense and driven, Carol seemed softer, more careful. A retired high school teacher who'd spent her life nurturing others while her sister chased mineral deposits across the world.

"Did Diana mention anything specific about her meeting with the mining company?" Sheila asked. "Any details that seemed odd?"

"She said—" Carol stopped, gathering her thoughts. "She said something about the numbers not adding up. That the official surveys didn't match what she was finding." She looked up at Sheila. "I don't know what that means, exactly. Diana's the scientist. I just know she was upset about it."

Through the command center's windows, Sheila could see the MSHA inspectors still conferring near their vehicles, their headlamps bobbing as they gestured at maps. The ground-penetrating radar equipment was still hours away. Hours Diana might not have.

"What about today?" Sheila asked. "Did she say anything unusual this morning? Give any indication she was worried?"

"She was distracted. Kept checking her pack, making sure she had extra batteries, emergency supplies." Carol's fingers worked at the coffee cup's rim. "I tried to talk her out of going in alone, but she said this might be her last chance before MSHA shut everything down. Said she needed to document something important."

"Document what?"

"She wouldn't tell me. Said it was better if I didn't know, in case—" Carol's voice caught. "In case something happened. God, why didn't I stop her?"

Sheila reached across the small space to touch Carol's arm. "You couldn't have known. And Diana clearly knew what she was doing—taking precautions, carrying protection."

"That's the thing," Carol said. "Diana's always been careful, methodical. Even when we were kids, she was the one who planned everything out. For her to go in there alone, knowing the risks..." She shook her head. "Whatever she found must be important."

A knock on the van's door made them both jump. Finn opened it, letting in a blast of cold mountain air. "Latest perimeter check is clear," he said. "No movement at any of the exits we're watching."

Sheila nodded, checking her watch. Nearly nine PM. Diana had been in the mines for thirteen hours.

"The protesters are finally thinning out," Finn continued, climbing into the van and settling carefully into a chair, mindful of his injury. "Though Riggs and her core group are staying. News crews too."

"Of course they are," Sheila muttered. She turned back to Carol. "You mentioned Diana was going to document something. What kind of equipment would she have with her?"

"Her usual survey gear—specialized GPS unit, digital camera, sampling tools. She always carries a backup light, extra batteries, emergency supplies."

Sheila was about to ask another question when the radio crackled. "Sheriff?" It was Deputy Walker, stationed at Exit Four. "We just heard what sounded like gunshots. Multiple reports, echoing through the tunnel system."

Sheila grabbed the radio. "How many? How far in?"

"Three shots, maybe four. Hard to tell with the echo. Sounded deep, but—"

Another voice cut in—Roberts, at Exit Seven. "Confirming gunshots. Seemed closer to my position."

More reports started coming in, each deputy claiming the shots sounded nearest to their location. The complex tunnel system was playing tricks with the sound, making it impossible to triangulate the source.

Carol had gone pale. "Diana's alive," she whispered. "She must be."

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