Page 25 of Sinistram
“If they had allthese big mine fires and collapses, why weren’t there more protests?” Brent asked as Travis drove toward what was left of the town of Mammoth and its coal mine.
“There were,” Travis replied, “About three months after the Mammoth disaster, there was a huge march by a thousand workers on the Morewood Works, another nearby mine. The local police fired into the crowd, killing nine of them, and the officers were acquitted. The law and the powers-that-be weren’t on the side of the workers.”
Brent’s sour expression made his feelings clear.
“Did you look at those videos I sent you, with the urban explorer who went into the Mammoth Mine?” Travis asked.
“Yeah, he’s either brave or crazy,” Brent agreed. “The whole place looked like it could come down on his head at any moment.”
The Mammoth Mine had actually been two mines, a shaft mine and a slope mine. Parts of it had continued to operate even after the 1907 explosion that killed over one hundred miners, not closing for good until 1927. At the time, there had been a huge setup including massive brick coke ovens, breakers, and tipples, along with rail lines and engines.
“It did look pretty sketchy.” Travis shuddered. “I was surprised that the mine company left so much equipmentbehind. Rail cars, drills, all kinds of specialized tools. Just abandoned.”
“A lot of it was big stuff,” Brent pointed out. “Getting it out and moving it somewhere else wouldn’t have been easy.”
“Yeah, but the buddies of the guys who owned the mine owned the railroad. I guess they just didn’t care,” Travis replied.
“We’re not going inside, right?” Brent double-checked. He couldn’t help sounding a little nervous. The explorer’s footage of twisted metal, gaping deep holes, dark tunnels, and rock slides had brought out a claustrophobia he hadn’t realized existed.
Travis chuckled. “No. The mine entrances have been blocked off completely now. And even if they weren’t, we take enough risks without asking for trouble. But from the videos, it’s only been a couple of years since people could get at least some of the way inside.”
“Is there anything left around the mine?” Brent couldn’t help being curious. “And what does ‘coke’ have to do with anything?”
“They superheated coal to refine it into a harder substance called coke, which was used in iron and steel manufacturing,” Travis said. “I guess I watched a few more videos than you did.”
Travis glanced at the GPS on his phone before he went on. “There were massive ovens near the mine to refine the coal to coke, but those are gone now, along with the other big buildings that got the coal out of the mine and broke it up. There’s a concrete dynamite shack, a boiler house, and a gigantic man-made mountain of slate they used to call a boney pile.”
“Did anyone get in trouble for the disaster?” Brent figured he already knew the answer, but he needed to ask.
“Not really. The mine inspector had just cleared the mine as safe days before. People are still arguing over whether the inspection missed something big or whether the explosive and suffocating gases seeped in through cracks in the rocks,” Travis said. “But of course, the owners weren’t liable.”
They passed a granite marker and a historic location sign, turning off the main road onto a paved driveway that led to a large expanse of green lawn with the old boiler house at one end.
Brent spotted the boney pile right away, looming gray and ugly in the background. Over to the side, he saw where an entrance to the mine had been sealed up.
“The news reports said that when the explosion happened, there were bodies strewn over sixty acres,” Travis said. “They were burned, crushed by rock falls, and slammed into the walls. Many couldn’t be identified. The company buried them in two long trenches.”
“Shit. No wonder the place is haunted.” On such a bright, sunny day, it was difficult for Brent to reconcile the horrific history with the peaceful green hills.
“Can you sense them?” Brent asked after he parked and they got out.
Travis concentrated, closing his eyes. “They’re out there, but they’re hanging back,” he said after a few quiet moments.
“What about the gnome? Do you think it played a role in the disaster?” Brent asked.
“I don’t know. It could have moved in after the people left,” Travis replied. “There were enough dangers that mines didn’t necessarily need monsters to make them explode. The carnage would have been a feast for any creature close enough to gorge itself.”
Brent nodded. “If they kept the mine going, the gnome could probably snack a little at a time. Once the mine closed, did it go to sleep? Did the explorers wake it up? Is it getting by on what it can grab from hikers, hunters, and explorers?”
Travis shrugged. “Maybe. For all we know, it left and came back again. But it’s here now, people are getting killed, and we need to get rid of it.”
“Does any of this look like your vision?” Brent asked.
Travis shook his head. “No. The entrance is all wrong. So I still have no idea what I saw or why it matters.”
As they drew closer to the mouth of the old mine, Brent felt a cold breeze and caught a whiff of stale air.
“Look there.” He grabbed Travis by the shoulder and pointed. “Something’s opened the entrance.”
