Ghost Canyon (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 7) Anthony Strong (popular romance novels .TXT) 📖

“Will you look at that,” Corey McDaniel said, speaking for the first time since exiting their own, much newer truck. “I’ll bet this was a beauty before she ended up here rotting away.”

“There are relics like that all around the town.” Robyn moved them past the old truck without pause. “There’s even the wreckage of a light aircraft further up the canyon. It crashed in the seventies after developing engine trouble and trying to make an emergency landing. Miraculously, the pilot walked away unscathed.”

“That’s one lucky guy,” Fenton commented. “I would not want to bring a plane down on this terrain.”

“That’s probably why he crashed,” Carlos said.

The mine entrance was in view now. Robyn led them the last few yards and stopped. She glanced toward the jagged hole in the mountain's side, now blocked by a pair of sturdy metal gates she had installed to keep trespassers out after blasting the rubble from the entrance. “Did you want me to wait for you here?”

“No need,” Fenton said. He donned his hardhat. “It’ll probably take us an hour or two to do our job. We’ll go further in than you’ll be taking tourists, just to be on the safe side. We can find our way back down on our own once we’re done.”

“Perfect. I have a lot to do,” Robyn said. “I’ll be in town, then.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Fenton placed the toolbox on the floor and put on his fluorescent jacket. He opened the toolbox and removed three small yellow boxes with LED screens. He clipped one to his jacket and handed the others to his companions.

“What are those for?” Robyn asked.

“Multi-gas detectors,” Fenton replied. “They will alert us instantly if methane or other harmful gasses are present in the mine.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t worry too much, though. It’s just a precaution. Like I said, we’re unlikely to encounter much this close to the surface. The air flow should be pretty good, and gasses mostly accumulate deeper underground.”

He closed the toolbox and waited for the others to activate their detectors, and then made his way to the mine entrance.

Robyn produced a key and removed the chain and padlock holding the gates closed. She swung them open.

Fenton turned on his helmet light and checked his equipment. Then he crossed the threshold into the abandoned mine with his colleagues a step behind.

Chapter Three

The darkness beyond the Ghost Canyon Mine’s entrance would have been absolute if it were not for the flashlights and lamps attached to the hardhats of the three geologists who now pushed their way deep within the mountain.

They were probably the first individuals to set foot this far inside the mine for almost a century and a half. Knowing this, they proceeded with caution, picking their way along and playing their flashlights to the left and right, looking for any sign of instability in the tunnels.

About fifty feet in, old mining carts blocked the passage. These had once been used to transport ore from the deeper sections of the mine back to the surface for processing. The three men edged their way past the decaying equipment and continued on, soon losing sight of the opening through which they’d gained access.

“This looks like a suitable spot to take some readings,” Fenton said, not long after they passed the ore carts. He stopped and placed the toolbox on the ground and opened it, removing a handheld anemometer. Used to check air temperature and flow, it looked like a chunky TV remote control with a fan on top. Even though the hard rock mine was underground, there was a cool breeze moving through the passageways, a sign that air was entering the mine through passages and ventilation shafts that remained unblocked.

“How far in do you want to go?” Carlos asked.

“Half a mile should do it,” Fenton replied, returning the anemometer to the toolbox before starting off along the passage again. “Maybe a bit further if we see anything of concern.”

“I’m not seeing much so far,” McDaniel said, glancing up at the wooden support beams and timber braces that lined the tunnel walls and ceiling. “It all looks pretty tight for a mine that’s been closed this long.”

“I agree.” Fenton nodded. He paused, lifted the DSLR camera and took a shot of the tunnel. The automatic flash lit up the rocks in stark relief. He took a few more from different angles before continuing onward. “They’ll have to install permanent monitoring equipment and string lights down here, but it shouldn’t be that big a deal to run tours. It’s all nice and clean.”

“I don’t get why folk want to pay good money to wander around old mines.” Carlos shook his head. “I can think of better things to do with my cash.”

“What, like feed it to the slot machines on Fremont Street?” McDaniel chuckled.

“Everyone needs a hobby.” Carlos adjusted the lamp on his helmet as they continued deeper into the mine. “If you must know, I’ve made a tidy pile of cash playing those slots.”

“No, you haven’t. You’re always complaining about how much you lost.”

“Not saying I win all the time, but I have a system. I come out on top in the long run.” Carlos glanced sideways toward his colleague. “Besides, I don’t see you raking in the winnings.”

“That’s because I’m not stupid enough to waste my money in casinos,” McDaniel retorted. “It’s a mug’s game.”

“Yeah, well, you do what you want, and I’ll do the same.”

“I wasn’t getting at you.” McDaniel shook his head. “I don’t care what you do with your money. I was just pointing out that you aren’t some freaking slot genius.”

“Knock it off, you two,” Fenton growled, glancing back toward his companions. Up ahead, the passageway widened into a small, excavated room with new passages running off at forty-five degrees from each other.

The three men came to a halt.

“Which way, boss?” Carlos asked, absentmindedly scratching his chin.

“Let’s take the right-hand passage first and see what