Jerimiah's Gold

Chapter 15: Jerimiah's Gold

I approached the massive crater that allowed water to rush down its sides. The humming was a lot more tolerable up close. As I inched myself on its edge, I spotted a crudely made wooden sign: Niagara Falls, established 1679.

So that's what this place is called, I said aloud to myself. I stepped away from the edge, snapping a twig in half in the process. What now? I've made it. I've followed the hum, and the stupid birds, what is it that I am to do now? The hum sounded distant, and with nothing left to do, I listened. That's when it clicked. The hum sounded distant. Surely, it would've made much more sense if the hum grew in intensity the closer to it I got, not dwindle in volume. That is when I realized that I was on the other side of where I needed to be.

See, I had mistaken the hum to be the source of running water that was crashing at a devasting depth. What it actually was, was some kind of machine digging into the ground just beyond the crater. It looked like an oil rig, but it was built differently from the typical rig. The hum was present, but not nearly as intense.

Scratching my head, then rolling my neck along my shoulders to stretch it, I positioned my hat until I remembered it got shot off by that sniper who was posted at the statelines of Michigan. I rolled my eyes at the realization and mounted Wiona, spurring her softly to get her to walk. I wiped the exhaustion and sleep crust from my eyes. Strands of my hair was matted to my forehead like wood, the rest was roughly tied back. I ran a hand atop my head to bring my hair out from my face. I pulled out my last cigar from my breast pocket, and smoked it while Wiona walked to the rig-like structure.

Upon arrival, I could clearly see that it was indeed a rig - or maybe a drill - and it was digging a gargantuous hole with a strong metal rod. I dismounted Wiona and inched myself over the edge of the hole to peer down. Nothing but unadulterated darkness. A chill ran down my spine, whether the cause was anxiety or the bitter cold, I cannot decide. I tilted my head back to look up at the sky and take a deep breath.

I studied the structure and discovered an operating room of sorts. I approached the beaten and kicked in door, and looked through the dirt stained window. From what was visible through the grime, I could see a lever and a switch mounted on a wall. The lever was placed on what appeared to be a table, and looked out of a window that faced the falls.

I looked around to see if there were any signs of people. I still don't know if it was completely necessary for me to do so, but I wanted to be sure. Once I was convinced I was alone, I proceeded to kick the door with heavy blows. My knee and shin ached with each strike on the solid wood. For a door as destroyed as this one, I could not fathom how I wasn't able to just obliterate it upon the first impact.

I gave up, allowing my right leg a break from the incessant kicking. I waited for a moment before wiping the drool from the side of my mouth with my forearm. I stood up straight and exhaled sharply. My clothes barely tethers of cloth by this point of my journey, the only thing that protected my body from the cold was a heavy wool coat I'd skinned - what felt like a lifetime ago. I scanned the operating room once more for any other way inside. The window looking toward the falls, I immediately thought. The only problem is that it faces just off a cliff that falls directly into the gargantuous pit, and there was only barely enough space for me to shimmy across to the other side of the operating room.

I inched towards the ledge and snaked my body around the corner to get a better idea of how much space I had to stand. About a foot, and I'm being gracious in that measurement. I looked around until my eyes fell on a large rock. I knew I had to shatter the window, but how was I to clean the pane from the stubborn glass shards? I figured I'd used the barrel of my revolver to clear the remaining shards.

It'll have to do, I said aloud. I grabbed the rock from the densely packed snow, worms and insects dropped from the bottom of it as I walked over to the window. Holding onto a piece of plywood that stuck out of the structure, I wrapped my arm around the side of the building and began repeatedly striking the window. I heard the faint sound of a crack, and proceeded to strike harder until the window finally gave way, and my rock was sent flying to the other side of the room. I retrieved my Colt from my holster, which had a decently sized barrel to allow greater range, and ran it along the windowsill until I traced the sides and top of the window.

Once all the glass I was able to clear was out of the way, I cautiously grabbed the side of the building - which only barely gave me support - and swung my leg inside the window until I pulled my entire body in the craped operating room. Shards of glass broke and snapped under the pressure of my weight. Snow had forced its way in through an erosion in the roof. I turned my body one hundred eighty degrees to scan the entire room. I found, first, the operating table for the drill. It was simply labelled, so simply that someone with no training or experience with mining could read them, someone like myself. The labels very plainly read that the switch on the wall activated the generator, and the lever on the table activated the drill itself. I decided it was best to stay clear from the table entirely.

There was a trapdoor pressed against the wall, it looked like it led to basement or shaft of sorts. Without any other clue of interest, I opened the trapdoor. The steel hinges screamed from years of neglect as I pried open the heavy pinewood door. Once the door slammed itself on the ground and the hatch was opened, I peered inside. A single ladder descended to darkness. Reluctantly, I slowly and cautiously placed one foot on the top rung, then the other, until I was climbing down into the shaft.