The Zero Game

“Thanks,” I laugh back, anxious to change the subject.

“No, thank you – if it weren’t for you guys, this place woulda still been boarded up. Once the gold was plucked, we didn’t think we had a shot.”

“Yeah, well… happy to help, Garth.” I throw in his name to get his attention – and to keep him from staring at Viv. As always, it does the trick. “So how’s it look otherwise?” I ask as he turns back to me.

“Right on time. You’ll see when you get down there. Everything’s in place,” he explains. “I should really get back, though… We got another shipment coming in. I just wanted to make sure we had the space ready.”

With a wave, he gets back in the man-car and starts the engine. The shrill scream of the chirping pierces the entire tunnel. Just a warning system as he drives through the dark – like the beeping sound when a big truck goes in reverse. As he races past us, the chirping fades just as fast.

“Whattya think?” Viv asks as I watch him disappear in the darkness.

“No idea. But from the sound of it, there’s no gold left down here.”

Nodding, Viv heads deeper into the mine. I stay with the man-car, making sure it’s gone.

“By the way, how’d you remember his name?” she adds.

“I don’t know – I’m just good with names.”

“See, nobody likes people like that.”

Behind me, I hear her feet crunching against the rocks. I’m still focused on the man-car. It’s almost gone.

“Hey, Harris…” she calls out.

“Hold on, I want to make sure he’s-”

“Harris, I think you should take a look at this…”

“C’mon, Viv – just gimme a second.”

Her voice is dry and flat. “Harris, I think you should take a look at this now...”

I turn around, rolling my eyes. If she’s still worried about the-

Oh, jeez.

Up ahead… at the very end of the tunnel… I have to squint to make sure I’m seeing it right. The man-car was blocking it before, but now that it’s gone, we’ve got a clear view. Down at the lowest part of the tunnel, two brand-new shiny steel doors gleam in the distance. There’s a circular glass window cut into each one, and while we’re too far to see through them, there’s no mistaking the bright white glow that seeps out through the glass. Two pinholes in the darkness – like the fiery white eyes of the Cheshire cat.

“C’mon…” Viv calls out, dashing toward the doors.

“Wait!” I call out. It’s already too late. Her mine light bounces as she runs, and I chase behind the lightning bug as she weaves deeper into the cave.

The truth is, I don’t want to stop her. This is what we came for. The actual light at the end of the tunnel.

47

SLAMMING BOTH HANDS against the polished steel double doors, Viv pushes as hard as she can. They don’t budge. Behind her, I stand on my tiptoes to get a look through the windows, but the glass is opaque. We can’t see inside. The sign on the doors says, Warning: Authorized Personnel Only.

“Let me try,” I say as she steps aside. Shoving my shoulder against the center of the doors, I feel the right one give slightly, but it doesn’t go anywhere. As I step back for another pass, I see my warped reflection in the rivets. These things are brand-new.

“Hold on a second,” Viv calls out. “What about ringing the doorbell?”

On my right, built into the rock, is a metal plate with a thick black button. I was so focused on the door, I didn’t even see it. Viv reaches out to push it.

“Don’t-” I call out.

Again I’m too late. She rams her palm into the button.

There’s a tremendous hiss, and we both jump back. The double doors shudder, the hiss slowly exhales like a yawn, and two pneumatic air cylinders unfold their arms. The left door opens toward me; the right door goes the other way.

I crane my head to get a better look. “Viv…”

“I’m on it,” she says, pointing her light inside. But the only thing that’s there – about ten feet ahead – is another set of double doors. And another black button. Like the doors behind us, there’s a matching set of opaque windows. Whatever’s giving off that light is still inside.

I nod to Viv, who once again presses the black button. This time, though, nothing happens.

“Press it again,” I say.

“I am… It’s stuck.”

Behind us, there’s another loud hiss as the original steel doors begin to close. We’ll be locked in. Viv spins around, about to run. I stay where I am.

“It’s okay,” I say.

“What’re you talking about?” she asks, panicking. The doors are about to squeeze shut. This is our last chance to get out.

I scan the cave walls and the exposed rocky ceiling. No video cameras or any other security devices. A tiny sign on the top left-hand corner of the door says, Vapor-Tight Door. There we go.

“What?” Viv asks.

“It’s an air-lock.”

There’s less than an inch to go.

“A what?”

With a heavy thunk, the outer doors slam shut and the cylinders lock into place. A final, extended hiss whistles through the air, like an old-fashioned train settling into the station.

We’re now stuck between the two sets of doors. Twisting back to the black button, Viv pounds it as hard as she can.