The Dead Man: Kill Them All by William Lee; Rabkin Harry; Goldberg Shannon Page A

and deliberately. The movements weren’t that foreign to him and his strong arms supported him—he’d climbed up and down hundreds of trees as a lumberjack. Working with one rope wasn’t all that different. As he descended into the shaft, the sunlight shrank above him and his eyesight gradually failed.
    “I’m coming down,” Matt called. “Try to step back out of the way.”
    “Okay.” A female voice. Below him, close now.
    Matt paused for a moment, slipping the goggles on and experimenting. After a few seconds he found the right switches and the gear clicked on. The world turned green and black, images distorted and weirdly flowing, but he could see. As Matt continued to lower himself, hand over hand, he looked down.
    She stood at the bottom of the trench and to one side, a teenage girl in denim shorts and a loose men’s T-shirt. She carried herself well, seeming more scared than injured. That was good, because Matt had to help her climb back out. He dropped down next to her, assessing her expression. Her eyes glowed strangely in the infrared light. He’d almost forgotten that she couldn’t see a thing. He touched her arm and she jumped.
    “Are you thirsty?”
    She nodded, so he opened the water bottle and fed her a few sips, then drank some himself. It was warm but delicious.
    “My name is Matt Cahill,” he said. “What’s yours?”
    “Suzie.”
    “Well, Suzie, I’m going to lead you to a rope. Can you climb?”
    She nodded in the dark. “Just get me out of here. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”
    “Take my gloves,” Matt said. “They’ll help you get back up.” He took Suzie’s hands gently, helped her tug on the work gloves. Then he led her to the rope, almost banging her head with the long nose of the NV goggles. Strange contraption, but remarkably effective. Matt thought, No wonder our soldiers have such an advantage in combat.
    The girl found the rope, and Matt guided her feet to the first footholds. Looking up, he described the climb as best he could, put his hands on her waist and gave her a good start up the wall, then stepped back.
    “Just keep going, Suzie. You’ll see the sunlight soon. If you have to stop and rest, take your time. I’ve got some gear on. I can see okay down here.”
    Matt decided not to tell her he wasn’t fond of creepy crawlies.
    Eventually the girl reached the top—Matt could hear the boy screaming for joy. After testing the rope, Matt began to climb back up. Without the gloves, the rope cut deeply into his hands, but they were calloused from years of physical labor. He kept his eyes on the rock face, just to make sure nothing slimy or furry was planning a sudden assault. Boards and rock groaned and moaned around him, and suddenly the walls began closing in—Matt felt claustrophobic. He wanted to get the hell out of there before something else collapsed. He was born for the mountains, not for a dark cave in the desert.
    As he reached the top, the world went white. Suddenly Matt couldn’t see.
    He cursed, almost let go of the rope. He’d forgotten to turn off the goggles, and the sudden appearance of sunlight as he reached ground level momentarily blinded him. Matt found foot purchase in the rock, let the NV goggles dangle around his neck, and blinked feverishly, then kept his eyes closed for a while, his muscles trembling. White spots gradually turned dark again, and Matt opened his eyes. His vision had returned to normal. Satisfied, he climbed the rest of the way out and rolled into the hot sand, relieved and panting.
    “Mister, we are so damned grateful, I can’t tell you!” Jeb exclaimed.
    Matt sat up. The miner had crawled away and was sitting near a cactus, cradling his claw hammer. Matt waved, “Sorry about that, mister.”
    “It wasn’t my fault,” the man said. A crafty look crossed his pocked features.
    “That Dark Man done it. He pushed her down there. He does all kinds of bad shit.”
    Matt Cahill felt a chill in his bones.