The Simeon Chamber Read Free Page A

loose earth behind him. He did not open his eyes or turn his head until the task was completed. By then nausea and panic had nearly overwhelmed him. He crawled toward the end of the tunnel, taking only shallow breaths of the fouled air. He had to dig quickly. Freedom lay in this direction. And now the only other avenue of escape was retreat—
    over the rotting corpse.
    He dug savagely for nearly twenty minutes. The ground was hard now and the digging slower, but the labor brought purpose to his endeavor and calm to his mind. His face was covered with a solution of grime and perspiration when he finally rested his shovel and steeled himself to look upon the face of his dead companion. He shifted the light of the candle and aimed the flame back up the passage toward the mound of discarded earth and the corpse. The head was caked with dirt, the features indistinguishable. The left arm was outstretched, the hand locked in a death grip around what appeared to be a small brick—perhaps used for hammering the point of a pick or shovel into the harder earth that now confronted Huber.
    Hesitating, he reached toward the dead man’s hand for the brick. The lifeless grip was like a vise and Huber had to move closer to the body and use both hands to pry the tool loose. With his fingers he scraped the caked earth from the edge of the brick for a better grasp. Suddenly he stopped. Under the grime-laden sweat Huber’s face was ashen. Blood drained from his head as full recognition of the object reached his brain. There, locked in the rigored grip of the dead man, was a brick of pure gold bullion.
    Overhead and a hundred feet to the east in the prison stable Huber could not see the restless shifting of the draft horses or hear their whinnied cries. In the still night air an inexplicable ripple spread across the water in their trough and lapped at the edges.
    In his subterranean passage Huber moved the candle closer to the hand of his grim companion and the gold bar locked in its clutch. The xxxi light caught the glimmer of a shiny round object in the dirt just beyond the outstretched, stiff arm. It was a coin of irregular shape but unmistakable specie. His eyes ran in a line toward the cavity left by the excavated body. A trail of gold coins carpeted the floor, disappearing into the impression left in the dirt by the man’s head and shoulders.
    Huber moved toward the end of the tunnel and began to excavate the area. More coins appeared with every shovelful of earth, and with each stroke of the spade his excitement grew. He lost all track of time as he tore and ripped at the earth. The path of the tunnel veered sharply to the left, running laterally inside the prison wall, and took a sixty-degree plunge as he followed the course of the coins. Fatigue was overcome by frenzy. The mangled shovel and pry bar were abandoned in his wake, as hard dirt turned to mud and the odor of brine replaced the stench of rotting flesh. He continued to claw at the dirt with his hands and finally he uncovered the side of a wooden cask. Bashing at the staves of the barrel with the heel of his boot, he splintered the rotting wood. Instantly Huber found himself awash in an effluent of mud and gold coins.
    The rumble began deep in the bowels of the earth, indistinct at first, then gaining momentum. Slowly the noise was transformed into motion, a slow gyration punctuated by more disturbing vibrations.
    Five miles to the south, city streets buckled and brick chimneys collapsed through the roofs of houses, burying the occupants. Water mains ruptured like brittle straw, and the iron rails of the Southern Pacific twisted and writhed in a bizarre geologic dance. Unattended church bells clanged with an aimless and discordant din, and the ground wrenched as if in the grip of some horrific giant.
    Huber never heard the first sounds or felt the initial movement. He was lost in a frenzy of discovery as he pulled the remains of the broken barrel from the dirt and unearthed a