PROLOGUE
The cat was old.
He crouched amongst some discarded limbs in the dappled shade of an ancient black oak while a cloud of flies circled his tawny head. From time to time the cat twitched his ears and blinked, startling those bolder flies who sipped at the viscous tears in the corners of his eyes. It had been three days since he had eaten. And the dog had been small and skinny, barely worth the effort. But he was too slow to run down a deer. His joints hurt and he had no wind. Age had reduced him to scavenging garbage and pets. And this was his favorite place to scavenge, especially when the man was in the hole. And the cat knew that the man was in the hole. He could hear him.
The cat laid back his ears and growled at the piercing shriek of tortured metal.
Like gravel dancing in a hollow gourd, the brittle buzz came out of the dark, reverberating between tunnel walls.
“Get! The man banged his open palm against the side of the ore cart. “Goddam snakes.”
The buzzing grew louder, momentarily insistent.
“Move! Or I’ll run you over.”
The buzzing stopped.
The man splashed through a trickle of water that ran between the narrow rails, the ore cart steady in front of him, his progress marked by the rhythmic shriek of iron wheels crawling along steel tracks towards the light. He paused momentarily at the mouth of the tunnel, squinting against the sudden glare of a late afternoon sun. Then, lowering his head, he leaned into the weight of the cart and methodically pushed it over bunkered tailings to the end of the track, where he stopped again, straightened, put both hands against the small of his back and stretched. He stood for a moment, eyes vacant, staring out over the steep slope in front of him. He shook his head, then sighed, reached down and jerked a steel handle on the side of the cart, releasing a latch. The ore hopper pivoted upward and a steel hinge at the front opened with a shriek of protest.
She tumbled free. Her naked body bouncing over scree and ballast down the steep slope of the tailings, arms and legs flailing at the dust of her passage, finally stopping amidst a pile of rocks where she lay unmoving in a crumpled heap.
The man walked to the front of the cart and squatted down to watch a final trickle of gravel cascade down the slope, bounce over the body and disappear into the rocks. His head sank until his chin touched his chest.
“We got to stop, bro.” He closed his eyes and shuddered. “They’re gonna catch us for sure if we don’t.” He opened his eyes and looked wildly around. A small rock broke free and tumbled erratically down the slope. Eyes tearing, he shouted after it. “Talk to him, Momma. You gotta talk to him.”
His legs gave way and he slumped to the ground to sit spraddle legged in the dirt. Covering his ears with his hands, he rocked back and forth, eyes wild and unfocused, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Talk to him, Momma,” he screamed into the void. “Make him stop.”
