The Hollow Pit Mine

By Bakerj

***

Everyone knew the story of Hollow Pit Mine.  The richest vein of gold ever to be found beneath the Washoe Hills.  When the picks swung, and the dynamite exploded, the Paiutes shook their heads and mumbled about evil spirits.  But the mine owners laughed at the foolish heathens and their silly superstitions.  Greed drove them on, and the picks continued to fly, expanding the wound gouged into the mountainside, the gold flowing into the waiting hands of the greedy owners. 

Then, the strange tales began.  Whispers of unnatural noises and disturbing sights permeated the workforce.  Injuries, sickness, and disasters grew.  Cave-in after cave-in drove the workers away, and one by one, the owners disappeared, never to be found.  Eventually, the mine lay barren and empty, and the fortune held beneath its shrouded depths remained untouched. 

But the lure of gold is hard to resist.  Over the years, tales were told of men brave or foolish enough to take on Hollow Pit.  Those who returned were forever changed.  Men who went grey within a week and never spoke of what they saw.  Men with eyes that looked like they’d stared into the gates of hell, who never again sat alone in the dark. 

Time moved on, and silver replaced gold.  The Comstock Lode built a city of thousands, and fortunes ran higher than ever before.  When the silver began to wane, and hungry men roamed the streets, the name Hollow Pit rose from the past, and thoughts once more turned to that vein of gold. 

***

Side by side, the two were as different as men could be, yet their posture and expressions mirrored each other exactly.  They stared at the lopsided, battered sign.  The words ‘Hollow Pit’ faded and almost lost to time.  Over the top, someone had slashed the words ‘STAY OUT’ in red. 

A rusting cart tipped on its side lay to the left of them.  Various broken tools, buckets, and other mining essentials lay scattered in the dirt.  Collapsed structures that once held up tents and old sites of fires were signs of long-since deserted camps.  A forlorn air hung over the area, and the slighter man noticed that no birds sang.  Tilting his head, he pouted at the grim opening.  “I don’t know about this.”

“You know Pa.  He wants facts.  He gets facts.”

“Yeah.  But why do we have to be the ones to go in there and get them?”

His older brother cut him a look filled with impatience.  Because, Joseph, you said since we’d be returning from Carson, it wouldn’t take much time for us to ride all the way up here.”

Joe pulled a face.  He had volunteered them, but his enthusiasm for the task was fading fast.  Too late to back out now, he took a resigned breath and tightened the grasp on the lantern he carried.  “Okay.  Let’s get it over with.”

The brothers marched forward, and like the twisted mouth of an ancient beast, the mine snarled out of the mountain to swallow them whole. 

Joe’s free hand spread out, checking for obstacles.  “Damn, it’s dark in here.”  They hadn’t come that far, but the place seemed to eat the light.  Hoss struck a match and lit the lantern.  Holding it high, Joe peered ahead of him down the shaft.  “Can’t see much.”

Hoss’s grunt of agreement followed.  “Yeah.  Didn’t reckon on it being this dark.  We should’ve brought a lantern each.”

Ever hopeful, Joe tapped his older brother’s chest with a forefinger.  “Let’s go home, grab another, and come back.”

Hoss shook his head, grabbed Joe’s arms, and turned him around.  “We’re here, and we’re gonna get this done.”

Giving in to the inevitable, they moved on.  The tunnel was narrower and lower than expected, as if the rock proved too stubborn to dig out further.  Standing in the middle, they almost touched either side, and Hoss had to remove his hat or lose it.  The air turned thick and stale, adding to the oppressive silence that dampened their every step.

Hoss prodded the wood.  “Rotten all the way through.”

Watching as his finger sank into another of the massive timbers, Joe agreed.  “This whole section will need replacing.”

“These shouldn’t be more’n twenty years old.  How’d they rot through so bad?”

“Maybe there’s water getting through.”  Joe reached out to run his hand down the wall.  Snatching it away, he massaged his numb palm.  “Darn rocks cold as ice.”

“Yeah.  Odd, ain’t it?”

His brother walked on.  For a second, Joe held back.  The lantern cast eerie shadows around him.  He shuddered.  Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut when Pa brought up checking this place?

The two men moved deeper into the mine.  Treading either side on the small tracks laid for the heavy iron carts, they followed the shaft that dug into the mountain.  After ten minutes, the shaft opened up, revealing a cave-like area used for storing tools and equipment.  A rusting cart sat in the middle.

“Look at this.”  Handing the lantern to Hoss, Joe picked up the lunch pail and flipped open the lid.  “Still got his lunch in there.”

“Yeah, an’ it’s not the only one.”

Around them, more pails and other items lay scattered, abandoned in the dust, and on a makeshift bench, tools lay deserted in the middle of being repaired.

“Someone left in a hurry.”

“Seems like.”  Hoss set the lantern down and moved away to check the truck. 

Joe continued his examination of the abandoned belongings.  “What d’you think?  Cave-in?”

“Yeah.  Hollow Pit was sure said to be unlucky in its day.  That’s what Pa’s worried about.”

“Can’t say I blame him.”

Joe snapped his head around when he caught the movement.  The change of light, or was it a lifting of the gloom as the shadows shifted?  He squinted to look closer.  When nothing moved, he shrugged.  This place made him jumpier than a bullfrog. 

Curious, he went back to the abandoned belongings.  Moving from item to item, he picked some up and turned them over with his fingers.  Setting down a hat, he lifted his head and froze.  Something did move.  Taking a step forward, he peered into the blackness.  When the angle of the light changed, he spun to see Hoss had picked up the lantern. 

“Joe, take a look at this.”

With a last glance over his shoulder, he walked over to join his brother, who was examining the side of the disused truck.  Brown, rusty splotches were sprayed all along and up the metal.  Joe ran a finger over one.  The crusty dust brushed off under his fingertips.  “What is it?”

“I reckon it’s blood.”

“Some kind of accident?”

“Must be.”

The two separated again.  Joe stopped when he felt something under his boot and stooped to pick it up.  The bone handle of the jackknife was smooth and fit comfortably in his hand.  The slip joint moved with ease when he opened the first blade.  He tested it against his thumb, feeling the sharp edge.  Initials were burned into the side.  This was someone’s prized possession, chosen with care.  It seemed strange to see it discarded in the dirt. 

He looked about him.   Once, this place would’ve rung with the rumble of the carts and the cheerful conversations of the men gathered to take a break.  Now, the silence pressed in, filling the space like another presence.  Needing to hear a voice, Joe asked, “Why would anyone leave this?”

“What’s that?”

“A knife.  You might leave your lunch, but your knife?”

“They could’ve dropped it.”

“I guess.”  He couldn’t say why, but Joe didn’t think so.

It didn’t seem right to toss the knife back where he found it, so instead, he placed it carefully on a rock.  He jumped when the light and dimness shifted again.  Creeping forward, he leaned in to look.  His gaze fixed ahead of him into the inky well of nothing.  He caught his breath when the blackness rippled, and the walls moved.

The hand that dropped on his shoulder sent him leaping two feet to the side.  He let loose a yell that erupted around the cave.  Dragging in a breath, he stared back at Hoss and squeaked, “You trying to give me an apoplexy?”

He heard the amusement in his brother’s voice.  “Did I scare you?”

“You startled me, that’s all.” 

Hoss bit his lip.  “Right.  Come see this.” Joe took another look at the solid walls and shook his head at his rampant imagination before following.  Piled against one side of the cavern were boxes imprinted with the word DYNAMITE.  Bundles of the explosive had been stacked around them, and from one, a fuse waited to be lit.  “Looks to me like someone was planning on blowing this place to smithereens.”

Dropping onto his knee, Joe picked up one of the bundles.  “Still dry.  Still good.”

“Yeah.  Let’s leave them that way.”

With two fingers, Joe set the stack back.  The whole thing gave him the shivers, even more than the temperature in the tunnel, which sank through to his bones, chilling each one. 

The crunch of grit and stone under their boots filled the air again.  With every step, the tunnel wrapped its icy tendrils around him.  The smell of coal oil mingled with the chill he breathed in, and he huddled close to Hoss, staying within the tiny orb of light cast by the lamp.  “Can’t you turn that up?”

Hoss stopped and showed him the lantern.  “It’s up all the way.”

“Then why can’t we hardly see?”

“Just too dark, I guess.”

Grumbling under his breath about how that statement made no sense, Joe kept behind his brother, who led the way.  Every footstep took them deeper into the mine, and Joe had to fight the feeling they were entering a tomb.  When the passage widened and split into six tunnels, Hoss stopped.

Stepping around his bulk, Joe groaned.  “Oh, great.  What do we do now?” 

Hoss sucked one side of his mouth.  “Pick one.”

None of the openings looked inviting.  Two had collapsed.  Their beams smashed like broken jaws, and rocks scattered out into the mine tunnel like teeth.  That at least cut their choices. 

Walking forward, Joe took a closer look at the nearest option.  That’s when he heard it – a faint scratching sound, like nails scraping against rock.  It came from deep in the tunnel ahead, where the light of the lantern couldn’t reach.  Straining his ears, he listened, but it had gone.  “Did you hear that?”

“What?”  His brother leaned in, holding up the light.

“I heard something scratching.”

“Probably some critter.”

It had to be that, and yet he hadn’t seen one living thing since they’d entered the Hollow Pit.  Pushing the thought aside, Joe stepped inside the tunnel and made out yet another cave-in.  Moving to the next, he stiffened when he heard that same deep scratching, like something clawing at the walls.  But what caught his eye banished the noise from his mind.

His fingers ran over the surface of the wall, dipping into the ridges and pits that made up the twisted and grotesque face sculpted into the rock.  “Look at this.  What d’you suppose it is?”

Hoss held the light close to allow them a good look.  “Indian carving?  Or maybe it’s someone’s idea of a joke.” 

Raising the lantern, they made out more chiseled, tortured, screeching faces.  Joe’s lip curled at the artist’s ghoulish imagination, and a chill skittered up his spine.  “I don’t think it’s very funny.”

Prodding the timber that supported the shaft, the wood crumbled under Joe’s touch.  A deep frown cut into his brother’s forehead when he showed him his dust-covered fingers.  Never one to take chances, Hoss dismissed that tunnel.  “Let’s check the others.”  The timber on the next appeared sound, but the hand Hoss ran over the wood froze.  “Look here.”

Joe frowned at the large patches of discoloration.  “Blood.”

Their eyes met, and the younger man almost proposed that they cut and run.  But pride held the words back.  The way this place was getting to him wasn’t something he wanted to admit.  In silent agreement, they turned away from that tunnel and took the next. 

After fifty feet, Joe grabbed Hoss’s arm and hissed, “Listen.”

Whispering out of the darkness in front of them, the insidious scratching returned.  

“It’s just some critter,” Hoss snapped and shook off his brother’s hand.

Joe cut a glance at his brother, hearing the edge in his voice.  Every instinct told him to turn back, but when Hoss moved, and the impregnable black cloak threatened to wrap around him, he hurried on.  He almost ran into Hoss, who’d stopped a few feet ahead.  In front of them, rocks piled up, blocking the rest of the tunnel.  That was the final straw.  “C’mon, Hoss.  This place is a dead loss.”

Taking a couple of steps forward, Hoss tripped.  The gasp he released brought Joe to his side to see what caught his attention.

Bones.  Human bones.  Piles of them, half-buried in the dirt and rocks.  Some were shattered and broken.  Others still had shreds of tattered clothing and even hair clinging to them.  At first, they thought these were victims of the cave-in, but when they took a closer look, the light revealed something even more disturbing.  The bones had been clawed with deep gouges, as if by hands that were no longer human.

“D’you think a bear got to them?” Joe asked.

A desperate suggestion, he wasn’t surprised when Hoss dismissed the idea.  Then it came again.  From deep within the blackness, even the walls themselves, they heard it – the soft, insistent scraping of nails against rock.

Hoss stood.  “Let’s get out of here.”

Relief breathed through Joe in one long sigh, and he turned back down the tunnel.  Fresh air and daylight called to him worse than a beer on a Saturday night.  When the light went out, plunging them into blackness, dismay gripped Joe.  “Why’d you blow out the lamp?”

“Dadburnit, I didn’t.”

“A lamp doesn’t just go out by itself.”

“You think I don’t know that!”

Joe might be twenty-seven, but Hoss was still his Big Brother.  The fear that laced his words turned the younger man’s stomach.  “Okay, well, light it.”

Shifting from foot to foot, Joe waited, listening to Hoss fumble around.  Even his brother’s large outline was impossible to make out.  Around him, the darkness pressed in.  Sweat trickled down his neck.  “C’mon, what’s taking so long?”

“I can’t find my dadblamed matches.”

“What?  Wait.  Take mine.”  Joe stretched out his hand into the light-devouring blackness.  He waved around, searching until his fingers touched something solid.  A hand slid down his arm to close over his.  He jumped at the unearthly coldness of the fingers that gripped him, sending goosebumps prickling over his skin.  “Hoss?” he whispered.  His voice quivered as he forced out the words, “You got them?”

Silence suspended the air around him for a heartbeat too long.  Out of the murk, his brother’s voice drifted back to him, “No.  Where are you?”

Joe yanked himself free.  His back slammed into the hard rock wall.  He flailed around the impenetrable void, searching for his brother.  His voice cranked up a notch as panic tightened his chest.  “Hoss!”

“I’m here.”  Those large, familiar arms closed around the younger man, and a trembling hand pressed the matches into his brother’s large palm.  “What’s wrong?”

“Light the lamp!”

The flame burst into life.  Joe turned away from its brightness before snatching the lamp from Hoss.  Holding it out, he spun in a circle, revealing nothing but an empty passage.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“There was someone here.”

“What?”

“A hand took mine when I held out the matches.”

Grabbing the lamp back, Hoss swung it around.  The shaft was empty, still, and silent except for the sound of their ragged breathing. 

“Hoss, I swear—”  His brother’s hand clamping over his arm cut him off.

Turning to follow Hoss’s fixed gaze, his mouth dried, seeing that same shifting of the dark.  It rippled and pulsed like a living thing.  His brother’s hand tightened its grip.  He saw it, too.  They came together, backing up like cornered deer.  The shadows peeled off from the tunnel walls and began to form into something human, but not human.

His brother’s meaty fist closed around his collar to haul him away.  “Run!”

The lantern careened, its light throwing crazy patterns around them.  Their boots slipped over loose rocks and metal tracks, but nothing held them back.  Before long, the only sound that echoed around the tunnel was the pounding of their footsteps and Hoss’s panting.

Back at the cavern, Joe jolted to a halt.  “Wait!”  He pointed to the dynamite.  “We need to finish what they started.  Blow this place.”

Hoss stomped back.  “Good idea.”

“Give me the matches and get going.”

“I ain’t leaving you.”

“Look!  I’m faster than you.  I’m gonna cut the fuse to five minutes and then wait five.  Give you time to get halfway down that tunnel.  Then I’m lighting it up.”

“Now wait a dadburn minute—”

Joe held his brother’s gaze.  “No arguments, Brother.”

The light from the lantern threw stark shadows over the worry lines on Hoss’s face as he gnawed his bottom lip.  “I’ll run.  Wait three minutes.” 

When he went to set down the lantern, Joe told him, “Take it.”

“Joe—”

“I mean it.  I don’t need the light to do this, and I don’t wanna see what’s coming.”

“All right.  Three minutes.  No longer, y’hear?”

“Okay.  And, Hoss.  Step careful.” 

Hoss lifted a hand in acknowledgment and turned to dissolve into the gloom.  The sound of feet thudding on the hard rock let Joe know his brother kept his word and ran.  Slicing the fuse, he began to count the minutes.  His breath puffed out in little clouds.  Shivering, he wriggled deeper into the soft cotton of his shirt and corduroy jacket as if that could gain him more warmth. 

The quiet played tricks on his mind, repeating the scratching sound in his head.  When the sound grew louder, a pit opened up in his stomach.  It wasn’t his imagination.  He tried to ignore it and concentrate on his counting, but hearing the clawing draw nearer and nearer, his eyes slid sideways.  The stench of rotting wood pervaded the air.  Was it wood?  Or something else?  Sweat trickled down his neck, where the arctic chill froze it to his flesh.  Despite himself, he eased his head around, but the weight of the darkness proved too heavy to penetrate. 

His hands shook with relief when he reached the end of the count, but he managed to light the match.  The tiny flame of light exploded like the beacon of hope that lit inside him.  He waited just long enough to make sure the fire took hold of the fuse.  Then, placing his life in faith, hope, and luck, he bolted for the entrance.    

The dark coiled around him, refusing to let go.  He didn’t remember the tunnel being this long.  Behind him, the scratch, scratch, scratching rose to a shriek.  Visions of those ghoulish faces flashed across his mind.  Long, wispy fingers plucked at his jacket, sending his heart from rapid beating to pounding.  When a large rock rolled beneath his boot, he stumbled.  Then, through the ink-black emptiness, his brother’s voice sliced the void, pushing back the monsters.  “Run, Joe!  You’re almost there.  Don’t look back.  Just keep coming!”

Shoving heels hard into the dirt, he sprinted toward that voice and safety.  Head down, he barreled for the entrance and only stopped when he slammed into his brother, sending them sprawling.  Pulled to his feet, Hoss dragged them to cover behind the tipped cart. Ripped from the belly of the mountain, rocks, dirt, and dust spewed into the air, choking out the light. The two brothers covered their heads and let it come.

Joe clambered to his feet.  The mountainside had collapsed, and the Hollow Pit Mine was no more.  He reached out to place a hand on his brother’s arm, needing the reassurance of touch.  “Thanks.  For a minute there—”

“Don’t say it.  Whatever that was, it’s buried and gone.  We don’t hav’ta think about it no more.”

Joe glanced back at where the mine entrance once stood.  The memory of those fingers sent a shudder through him.  What had Hoss seen chasing him?  He turned but read the determination in his brother’s eyes.  He wasn’t talking, and it wasn’t up for discussion.  Joe let it go.  Whatever lurked inside the mine lay buried forever under tons of rock.  “What’re we gonna tell Pa?”

“The truth.”  Startled, Joe opened his mouth to protest when Hoss held up a hand to silence him.  “There was a cave-in, and we were lucky to get out alive.”

Joe grinned and slapped his brother on the back, raising a billow of dust.  “That’ll do it.  C’mon.  Let’s get outta here.”

Brushing themselves off, they walked back to the stand of cottonwood trees where they’d left their horses.  Mounting, Joe lifted his face to the warmth of the sun and sucked in the blissful smell of fresh air.  Turning their mounts, the two brothers rode away into the light.

***

The side of the mountain rose and fell like a man’s chest.  Rocks bubbled and pushed up from below to tumble and skitter down the slope and settle on the ground.  The light from the sun glinted off the membrane that ran through the stone.  The gold gleamed, seductive and inviting.  It lay patient and waiting, ready to entice the next passing soul into the mountains’ embrace.

*** The End ***

Oct 2024