“What are the chances that our friends are alive back there?”

Ghosh pointed at the trickle of murky yellow water now running in the ricket. “The water-make is down to almost nothing. Supervisor, if they are alive, if they are holed up, depending upon the amount of space they have . . .” He swallowed hard. “You know how much water was running out of that head rock. Given the little that we have running now, it means the collapse is acting like a dam, backing it up.”

Ituri couldn’t meet her eyes. “Most likely, if they’re still back there, they’ll drown before they suffocate, ma’am.”

Fists knotted at her sides, eyes squinted, Kalico snapped. “Well, what are you standing here for? Those are our people in there. Why isn’t the mucking machine from the Number Two already down here? That’s all loose cave-in. Let’s get the tunnel mucked out and . . .”

Ghosh—also unable to look her in the eyes—was shaking his head. “Can’t, ma’am. We’re talking tons of rockfall. The more we pull out, the larger the void migration. As it is, the falling rock is loose, so it has more volume. Eventually it will slow, the loose stuff taking up the space. The bigger the hole we make, the more room the rock has to fall as the void is enlarged. Eventually it will bring down the whole mountain. What they call a glory hole. You get that, right?”

But to just do nothing? Those were two of her people in there. A yawning emptiness began to grow in her gut.

Ituri added, “And the tremors we’re feeling? If they are not void migration, they’re the tunnel collapsing that last couple of meters to the working face.”

“I don’t care! I want every effort made. Even if we have to go in and haul that rock out by hand.”

She started for the portal. All her imagination could do was fix itself on the women trapped behind all those thousands of metric tons of rock. On their desperation, entombed as they were in the silent midnight black. Terrified as cold water rose up around their legs. Kalico could feel their fear, the knowledge that they were going to die.

She was just inside the portal when the ground shook, a muffled thump sounding from the rock around her. She felt it—hard through her feet—terrifying in its own promise of finality.

Kalico stopped, staring at the darkness. “Where are the lights?”

“Shorted out, ma’am,” Ituri called from behind her shoulder. “If we’re going in, we need head lights and . . . .”

She jumped as another thump sounded ominously from above. Not two heartbeats later, a loud bang, sort of like a muffled lightning strike, preceded a rumble. The floor twitched under her as a puff of air blew past.