Algorithm - Book 1 - The Medallion

Chapter 5

Just then, there was a rapid knock on the door. Luke opened it cautiously, revealing a nervous, blackened face sporting a wide grin and an impressive gap where two front teeth had once resided.

"Mihal!  What're ya doin' here?"

"Luke. I know I promised not to tell."

Luke's eyebrow instantly shot up while his mouth turned sour.

"Who'd ya tell?"

"Herman. After you left, he cornered me and looked at me with that there stare o' his."

"Oh, crap," sighed Luke, recollecting the many times he'd seen the same frightening look himself, and wished he hadn't.

"Don't be mad at me, Luke. Herman said he'd get us some help in the morning and we could all share."

Likely as not, Herman would take the main share, if not the whole share, which pissed off Luke to no end. In any event, what's done is done, and they exchanged their 'good nights' and settled in, with Luke assigned the chore of reheating his stew.

***

In the morning Hedda cooked up a hearty breakfast and sent Luke off to work with a kiss. It was always good to see him start the day off with a clean face, shirt and pants. Just the soapy smell of him was enough to cheer her up. It was an ordinary winter morning with the lingering strains of last night's cold mist hugging the ground. As Luke began his trek up the rise, Hedda reached into her apron pocket and looked at the gold rod for about the tenth time that morning, imagining what the rod might be part of. This was certainly something out of the ordinary and something this exciting almost never happened in these parts. She hummed to herself as she attended to her daily chores, making sure that the dishes were clean, the floors swept, and bedspreads tucked. It was a ritual she looked forward to—a reassuring set of motions and objectives, providing a timeless sense of security and continuity. After it was all done, she sat quietly on the lumpy living room sofa near the window, and took up her needle and yarn. Just before noon disaster struck.

The Knox Coal Company breaker whistle filled the valley with instant dread. The continuous shriek had a singular and terrible purpose - to call everyone to the mines because a catastrophe had occurred. Hedda threw on an overcoat and ran out into the street in her slippers, joining other housewives, off-duty miners and retired folks, some carrying small children swaddled in blankets. They walked, they ran, and they all headed up the street, over the rise to the Knox colliery barely visible and more than a mile away. Even from this distance Hedda made out the ominous peaked outline of the breaker, looming over the colliery and the small town of Port Griffith. Fearful looks were exchanged in silence as she joined other streams of people solemnly marching in the same direction, toward the ever louder steam whistle. When she reached the colliery gates Hedda found herself in the midst of hundreds of distraught people swarming over each other at the gate entrance. A miner with a megaphone stood on a box trying to be heard over the deafening thrum. The whistle stopped, and as if on cue, the crowd ceased its chatter.  Hedda began to make out some of the announcements. She snaked her way a bit closer through the crush of people and began piecing events together. Part of the mine was flooding. It seems the river broke through and operations were underway to rescue trapped miners, and they were asking for volunteers to help out. Hedda felt her body go limp.