Endless Night

By Anita Sanchez

 

 

A sudden gust of wind blew twigs and dried leaves up from the ground in a little scurry of dust. Heyes pulled his hat lower over his eyes, and reined in his horse to look back over his shoulder. “Getting darker,” he said uneasily.

 

“It’s at least two hours before sundown,” remarked Kid. “That’s a storm blowing in, feel that cold wind?” They both paused on the crest of a low hill, looking to the west, where a dark rim of clouds drowned the light of the setting sun.

 

As they rode on, Heyes kept looking back at the black clouds rising higher over the bare sandstone hills behind them. “We’ll never get to Henleyville before the storm breaks, it’s another ten miles at least,” he called, noticing that he had to raise his voice to be heard over the rising wind.

 

“I know, it’s gonna come down in torrents any minute,” Kid called back. A low rumble of thunder sounded, and Kid’s horse jolted sharply sideways, almost throwing him. He managed to hang on, and pulled back on the reins gently. “Hey, hey, take it easy,” he said soothingly.

 

“This storm’s gonna be a humdinger,” said Heyes. “We better get under cover somewhere.”

 

“Nothing but bare rock and scrub-brush,” said Kid, looking around at the low red hills.

 

Heyes pointed to a dark opening in one of the hillsides. “Look, that’s gotta be an old mine. All kinds of old abandoned tin workings around here.”

 

“It’ll do, I guess,” said Kid. “Any port in a storm.” A few heavy drops of rain began to spatter down on the dry ground. They rode hastily over to the mouth of the mine, a low, semicircular hole in the side of the hill, supported by sagging beams propped on each other. Kid’s horse shied nervously again as they approached the dark opening. They dismounted and peered in cautiously, feeling a cool draft of air flowing into their faces. “Black as your hat in there,” said Kid doubtfully.

 

“Well, we’re not going to live here, I just want to get out of the rain,” said Heyes.

 

“You’re like a cat who hates to get its paws wet,” said Kid. “A little rain won’t melt you.”

 

“Fine, you wait out there, and tell me when it lets up,” said Heyes. He led his horse into the dark opening. Kid looked up at the black sky. A sudden rattle of hail made his horse snort and shake its head, backing. “Oh, well, why not,” Kid said.  “A little dark never hurt anyone.”

 

They went in thirty feet or so, to get out of the wind that whistled uncomfortably down the tunnel, their footsteps echoing off the rock walls on either side. Where the tunnel bent at a slight angle, the wind let up, but it was almost pitch dark. “This’ll do,” said Heyes. “Let’s leave the horses here.” They dropped the reins, and the horses stood, heads down.

 

“Now what?” asked Kid. “It isn’t very cozy.”

 

“Let’s explore a little further in,” said Heyes. “If there’s any old posts or wood lying around, maybe we can get a fire going. There’s no moon tonight, it’ll be too dark to travel soon. We might as well spend the night.” They walked deeper into the tunnel, but it wasn’t long till they came to a dead end, a sheer face of rock.

 

“Looks like it peters out here,” Kid said, glancing around the dark walls. “Somebody sure went bust working this mine.”

 

Suddenly a crack of thunder echoed in the tunnel, shockingly loud. They both jumped, and whirled around to see Kid’s horse toss its head and snort, backing and sidling in fear. Kid started down the tunnel towards the animals, but another bang of thunder made both horses plunge and rear in fright. One horse skidded and fell, in a jumble of flailing legs and eerily human screams. Plunging in panic, the horse scrambled up, then fell sideways again, crashing into the wooden post that supported the roof.

 

“Look out!” Heyes yelled. He heard a deeper rumbling mix with the crash of the thunder, and flung himself backward as stones from the roof  fell, first small ones, then big chunks of rock, smashing to the floor. Then a cascade of dirt began flowing from the roof like a waterfall. The light vanished, and the hollow muffled booming turned to a deafening roar that shook the ground.

 

When the noise finally subsided, Heyes found himself lying face down on the cold, dusty rock of the mine floor. He coughed, dust filling his lungs and clogging his mouth and nose. He spat out dust and coughed and spat again, and finally sat up, panting. He scrubbed the dust out of his eyes with his sleeve, and looked around. It was dark, utterly, completely dark. “Kid?” he said, and was relieved to hear a scuffling sound nearby, and Kid’s voice grunt, “Yeah, right here. You okay?”

 

“I guess,” said Heyes, moving his arms and legs experimentally. Everything seemed to be in one piece. “You?”

 

“Yeah. God, it’s dark in here.” This was an understatement, Heyes thought. He stretched his eyes as wide as they would go, but could see not the smallest trace of light. He put his hand in front of his face, and moved the fingers an inch from his nose. He couldn’t see his fingers, or Kid, or the walls, or anything, anything at all.

 

He stood, swaying and finding it hard to keep his balance in the utter dark. He put his hands in front of him and felt at the empty air like a blind man. “Where’s the wall?” he said, longing to feel something solid, some point of reference in the emptiness. 

 

“I don’t know,” Kid muttered. “I can’t see a thing.”  They shuffled around, groping, till Heyes heard a thunk. “Ow!” said Kid’s voice, off to his left. “Here it is.”  Heyes went towards the sound till his outstretched fingers hit the solid rock. They both felt at the cold, dusty surface. “Well, it’s a wall, all right,” said Kid. “Which way’s the way out, that’s the question.”

 

“This is solid rock, it’s the mine wall, said Heyes. “Feel around till we hit the pile of dirt, that’s the way out.” They bumped into each other. “Get out of the way,” growled Kid.

 

“Go to the right,” said Heyes, and he went left, scrabbling and feeling at the wall. It was only a few steps till he came to a corner, and he could feel the piled-up dirt and stones as high as he could reach.  “Over here,” he said. “This is where it caved in, I can feel the loose dirt.”

 

“I’ll go all the way around,” said Kid. Heyes could hear his shuffling footsteps; they were the only sound in the heavy silence beside his own breathing. In a minute or two the footsteps were beside Heyes again. “That’s it,” Kid said. “Just about the size of a cheap hotel room. We were damned lucky the rest of the roof didn’t fall in on our heads.” 

 

“That’s so,” Heyes agreed. “Come on, let’s get out of here, I don’t care if it’s raining cats and dogs outside. I’ve explored all I want to in this mine.” They began to scratch at the invisible wall in front of them, heaving the big rocks loose, and scooping handfuls of dirt out from between the close-packed stones.  It was hard work, and they began to pant. 

 

“Man, I could eat a horse,” Kid said. “I could eat two horses. I was planning on a turkey dinner when we got to town...”

 

“Stop talking about food,” Heyes snapped, throwing a rock over his shoulder. “It just makes it worse.”

 

“Turkey with gravy and cornbread stuffing...” said Kid dreamily.

 

“No talking about food, that’s the rule,” said Heyes firmly.

 

“Oh, yeah, since when do you make the rules?” said Kid.

 

“It’s just common sense, that’s all,” Heyes explained. “Talking about food makes you hungrier. As soon as we dig out of here, you can talk about all the turkey you want.” They worked away at the pile of rock, expecting any minute to see daylight. But they dug and scratched for a long time, and still there was rock, and dirt, and more rock piled up in front of them.

 

“Break time,” said Heyes, and they sat down on the floor, backs against the rough cold stone. Heyes stretched his tired arms, and tried to brush the dirt off his hands and face. He could hear Kid’s quiet breathing next to him in the dark.

 

“How long you figure it’ll take to dig out?” asked Kid.

 

“A while,” Heyes said ruefully.  “Lot of rock came down, that’s for sure.” He lay back

against the wall, trying to think about anything but the back-breaking work ahead of them.

 

“Kid?” he said at last.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What do you want to do, I mean, after we get out of here.”

 

“Eat,” replied Kid.

 

Heyes smiled. “I mean later, after we’ve been out of here for a while.”

 

“So do I.”

 

Heyes resisted the impulse to heave a rock in the direction of Kid’s voice. “No, really...I mean, later, next year, after we get the amnesty and all. What you want to do then?”

 

There was such a long silence that he wondered if Kid had fallen asleep. Finally Kid said. “Oh, I don’t know...settle down in some little town maybe...have a few kids...get married...”

 

“I think you’ve got the order a bit mixed up,” Heyes told him.

 

“Not necessarily,” Kid retorted, and Heyes could imagine his grin.. “I don’t know, never really thought too much about it. Nothing much. Just something...quiet, I guess. Not having to look over our shoulders all the time, not having to watch everybody, you know?” 

 

“I know,” said Heyes.

 

“But I never really think about it, seems like it’s bad luck to plan too far ahead. Like counting your chickens before they hatch.”

 

“Don’t talk about food,” said Heyes, and heard Kid give a snort of laughter. There was a pause.

 

“What do you want to do?” asked Kid.

 

“Oh, I don’t know.”

 

“Yes, you do,” said Kid promptly. “You always say ‘oh I don’t know’ in that casual tone when you’ve got it all figured out and you know I’m not gonna like it.” Heyes gave a rueful laugh.

 

“Well?” demanded Kid.

 

“Well, I was thinking... just sort of toying with the notion, you know...”

 

“Yes?” Kid prodded.

 

“Of being a Bannerman man.”

 

“A what!”

 

“You heard me,” said Heyes with irritation.

 

“I must be going deaf. You want to be Harry Briscoe when you grow up?”

 

“Not a Bannerman man like him. But think about it, Kid, who’d be better at catching criminals than us? We’d be great at it, we know all the tricks of the trade. And it’s got to pay pretty good...” He heard Kid chuckling quietly in the dark. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.

 

“I don’t know,” said Kid. “It might not be bad at that. Come on, before you can be a Bannerman man, and I can have dinner, we got a lot of digging to do.” Heyes nodded, then remembered Kid couldn’t see him, and got heavily to his feet. He could hear from Kid’s slow movements that he was just as tired. Heyes wondered how much longer they’d have to dig before they saw daylight. His eyes seemed to be aching for a sight of the sun.

 

They dug at the rock and dirt that were heaped between them and the way out, scratching like animals with their bare hands. “I wish I had a pick,” Heyes grunted.

 

“If wishes were horses,” said Kid. “Why don’t you just wish for a doorway outta here, and be done with it.”

 

“I’d settle for a pick,” Heyes said. “I’d pay a hundred dollars for a pick.”

 

“Before this is over you might be willing to pay more than that,” Kid said, and there was a grim note to his voice that made Heyes shiver a bit. He began to consider the possibility that they  might be facing more than just the annoying chore of having to dig through some rock and dirt. Who could tell how much of the ceiling had collapsed? He had been assuming it was just a small section, but what if the mine roof had caved in all along its length? He felt a cold shudder down his back, trying to remember exactly how far back in they had walked. He began to dig at the wall again, using a piece of rock to pry loose the tight-packed dirt and stones.

 

There was no way to gauge time in the total absence of light. Heyes kept wondering what time it was, and feeling at the watch in his shirt pocket, but it was as useless as if he were a blind man. It had been well after noon when the cave-in had occurred, so he supposed it must be dusk now. He thought longingly of being outside, with the rain pouring on his face, drinking the raindrops from the sky. It felt like they had been digging for hours when he heard Kid stop and slump down on the floor with a sigh. Heyes stopped, too, and sat down beside him. The air was warm and sticky against his face, and smelled stale and close.

 

Finally Kid spoke into the blackness. “Maybe this is our punishment.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, my ma always said those that live by the sword will die by the sword.” Heyes opened his mouth, and Kid snapped, “And don’t make any smart remarks about me using a gun instead of a sword!” and he shut it again.

 

“I mean, we’ve done a lot of bad things, you and me,” Kid went on after a pause. “Remember that old man we robbed that time? And all the money we’ve stolen.”

 

“Yeah, but we’ve never really hurt anybody. Not bad, I mean.” Heyes protested.

 

“I’ve killed a few men,” Kid said.

 

“Well, no one that didn’t deserve killing.”

 

“Maybe,” Kid said, and Heyes could hear his sigh..

 

“What was she like, your ma?” asked Heyes curiously.

 

“I can’t hardly remember, she’s been dead so long,” Kid said. “Can you remember your ma?”

 

“Nah,” said Heyes, and sat with his eyes wide open in the utter darkness, remembering. There was a long silence. “So what other things did your ma say?” he asked, to fill the silence and get his mind on another subject. 

 

“Well, she used to say everyone had their end already determined when they were born,” Kid said slowly. Heyes shivered a little. “Everyone, every little baby, even, had a fate that was planned, and they couldn’t avoid it.”

 

“That’s crazy,” said Heyes. “I’ve heard some of those Bible-thumping preachers say that, they’re just trying to scare people.”

 

“She really believed it,” said Kid. “She used to say, “Every night and every morn, some to misery are born, every morn and every night, some are born to sweet delight. Some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night.”

 

“Oh, that’s cheerful,” said Heyes. They sat for a while. “I don’t think it works like that, Kid,” he added. “I think the chips just fall where they may. Look at all the rich bastards out there, and the poor, good folks who die young. There’s plenty of folk done a lot worse than us, who die peacefully in bed.”

 

“Maybe,” said Kid.  There was a long pause. The darkness seemed to press down on their heads, like a living thing.

 

“Maybe I was wrong,” said Kid slowly.

 

“About what?” asked Heyes.

 

“Maybe I was wrong when I said we were lucky the roof didn’t fall on our heads.”

 

Heyes had been having the same thought for the last hour or so. “Shut up,” he said roughly. “Come on, let’s get back to it.”

 

They dug wearily at the endless wall in front of them. Heyes scratched at the dirt, his fingers sore and aching, and heard the steady trickle and clatter of stones and pebbles falling on the ground. Kid’s words kept running uncomfortably around in his head. Endless night...endless night. It was getting harder to tell if it was minutes or hours that were passing.

 

He came to a large rock embedded in the dirt, about as high as his head. He felt around it, scratching the dirt from underneath, but couldn’t get a good hold to work it free. He pulled and pushed at the stone, trying to get a grip on the rough surface, and shaking the edges in attempt to get it loose. He worried at it more and more desperately, clawing at the stone, and began to curse under his breath. Finally he pounded his fists against the dark stone in front of him. He felt Kid’s hand on his shoulder, and flung it off, pounding at the rock and calling it every dirty name he could think of.  

 

Heyes felt a firm grip on both shoulders, and he was hauled a few steps backwards. “Hey, hey, hey,” Kid said, in the quiet voice Heyes had heard him use to calm the spooked horse. “Take it easy, partner. Take it easy.”

 

Heyes stood shaking, fists clenched, then slowly drew a deep breath. “Sorry,” he muttered. He felt Kid lightly ruffle his hair, and they went back to digging in silence. 

  

Heyes woke up slowly, from an oppressive nightmare about being in jail. He opened his eyes, and the blackness all around reminded him that they were in a place worse than jail. Endless night, he thought tiredly, wishing he could get the phrase out of his head.  He rolled over, his back aching from the hard rock floor beneath him, and glanced around. He could see Kid a few feet away, curled up in a miserable huddle on the ground, just a dark blur in the dense shadows. Heyes put his head down on his arms, and closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep. Even the worst nightmare was preferable to the grim reality of the trap they were in.

 

He supposed they should start again at the hopeless task of digging. He had a vision of the two of them, twenty years from now, dry bones lying on the floor in the pitch darkness, their dead hands still scratching at the wall. He shook his head to get rid of the idea, and coughed. The air smelled stuffy and foul, and his throat was bone-dry.

 

As he lay with his head on his arms, a flicker of a thought came to him. It gleamed in his mind like the tiny glow of a firefly, and he considered it. Then he raised his head and looked again at Kid, the dark shape huddled against the darker wall, and leaped up with a yell that brought Kid wide awake and staring.

 

“What’s the matter, have you gone loco?” Kid demanded blearily, sitting up with his gun in his hand. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your fool head off.”

 

“I can see you!” shouted Heyes. “I can see you!"

 

“Well, so what?” Kid shrugged, shoving the gun back in the holster. “Our eyes are just getting used to the dark.”

 

“No! No! There’s no light at all in a cave like this, there’s got to be light coming from a crack somewhere!” He looked around frantically, and Kid scrambled to his feet and stood staring, too. Sure enough, the mine, although they would have described it as pitch black a day ago, had a slight illumination, so that he could see Kid as a dim, moving shadow. “Over there, it’s brighter in this corner,” Heyes cried, and darted over to the area that seemed least dark. There, between two large slabs of rock, he saw a pinprick of light that shone with the blazing fierceness of a diamond.

 

They clawed at the speck of light, tearing the dirt and rocks away from it.. “Why didn’t we see it before?” shouted Kid over the noise of the flying dirt and pebbles.

 

“It was dark and stormy when the roof fell in, and it was a moonless night,” said Heyes, panting. “But the night’s over, now, Kid, the night’s over!” They scrabbled at the tiny opening, and the dirt fell on their upturned faces. The glare stabbed their eyes with pain, and they both stopped for a second, covering their faces, blindly slapping each other on the back and jigging up and down with wild laughter. Then they threw themselves at the crack, feeling it widen with every minute. 

 

Their celebratory dinner in the hotel that night was long, hilarious, and accompanied by at least twelve mugs of beer apiece. The other diners in the hotel looked at them wonderingly, as they roared with laughter and toasted each other again and again. Finally Heyes began to fear they were a little too conspicuous, and they decided to head upstairs to bed. They were still surprisingly sober, Heyes thought, although they weaved up the stairs, clinging to the bannisters. He lit the kerosene lamp, and looked around at the dingy little room, two narrow iron bedsteads, peeling wallpaper, and a washstand with a large pitcher of water.

 

He caught Kid’s eye. “Beautiful place, ain’t it?’”he said, grinning.

 

 

Endless Night

By Anita Sanchez

 

 

A sudden gust of wind blew twigs and dried leaves up from the ground in a little scurry of dust. Heyes pulled his hat lower over his eyes, and reined in his horse to look back over his shoulder. “Getting darker,” he said uneasily.

 

“It’s at least two hours before sundown,” remarked Kid. “That’s a storm blowing in, feel that cold wind?” They both paused on the crest of a low hill, looking to the west, where a dark rim of clouds drowned the light of the setting sun.

 

As they rode on, Heyes kept looking back at the black clouds rising higher over the bare sandstone hills behind them. “We’ll never get to Henleyville before the storm breaks, it’s another ten miles at least,” he called, noticing that he had to raise his voice to be heard over the rising wind.

 

“I know, it’s gonna come down in torrents any minute,” Kid called back. A low rumble of thunder sounded, and Kid’s horse jolted sharply sideways, almost throwing him. He managed to hang on, and pulled back on the reins gently. “Hey, hey, take it easy,” he said soothingly.

 

“This storm’s gonna be a humdinger,” said Heyes. “We better get under cover somewhere.”

 

“Nothing but bare rock and scrub-brush,” said Kid, looking around at the low red hills.

 

Heyes pointed to a dark opening in one of the hillsides. “Look, that’s gotta be an old mine. All kinds of old abandoned tin workings around here.”

 

“It’ll do, I guess,” said Kid. “Any port in a storm.” A few heavy drops of rain began to spatter down on the dry ground. They rode hastily over to the mouth of the mine, a low, semicircular hole in the side of the hill, supported by sagging beams propped on each other. Kid’s horse shied nervously again as they approached the dark opening. They dismounted and peered in cautiously, feeling a cool draft of air flowing into their faces. “Black as your hat in there,” said Kid doubtfully.

 

“Well, we’re not going to live here, I just want to get out of the rain,” said Heyes.

 

“You’re like a cat who hates to get its paws wet,” said Kid. “A little rain won’t melt you.”

 

“Fine, you wait out there, and tell me when it lets up,” said Heyes. He led his horse into the dark opening. Kid looked up at the black sky. A sudden rattle of hail made his horse snort and shake its head, backing. “Oh, well, why not,” Kid said.  “A little dark never hurt anyone.”

 

They went in thirty feet or so, to get out of the wind that whistled uncomfortably down the tunnel, their footsteps echoing off the rock walls on either side. Where the tunnel bent at a slight angle, the wind let up, but it was almost pitch dark. “This’ll do,” said Heyes. “Let’s leave the horses here.” They dropped the reins, and the horses stood, heads down.

 

“Now what?” asked Kid. “It isn’t very cozy.”

 

“Let’s explore a little further in,” said Heyes. “If there’s any old posts or wood lying around, maybe we can get a fire going. There’s no moon tonight, it’ll be too dark to travel soon. We might as well spend the night.” They walked deeper into the tunnel, but it wasn’t long till they came to a dead end, a sheer face of rock.

 

“Looks like it peters out here,” Kid said, glancing around the dark walls. “Somebody sure went bust working this mine.”

 

Suddenly a crack of thunder echoed in the tunnel, shockingly loud. They both jumped, and whirled around to see Kid’s horse toss its head and snort, backing and sidling in fear. Kid started down the tunnel towards the animals, but another bang of thunder made both horses plunge and rear in fright. One horse skidded and fell, in a jumble of flailing legs and eerily human screams. Plunging in panic, the horse scrambled up, then fell sideways again, crashing into the wooden post that supported the roof.

 

“Look out!” Heyes yelled. He heard a deeper rumbling mix with the crash of the thunder, and flung himself backward as stones from the roof  fell, first small ones, then big chunks of rock, smashing to the floor. Then a cascade of dirt began flowing from the roof like a waterfall. The light vanished, and the hollow muffled booming turned to a deafening roar that shook the ground.

 

When the noise finally subsided, Heyes found himself lying face down on the cold, dusty rock of the mine floor. He coughed, dust filling his lungs and clogging his mouth and nose. He spat out dust and coughed and spat again, and finally sat up, panting. He scrubbed the dust out of his eyes with his sleeve, and looked around. It was dark, utterly, completely dark. “Kid?” he said, and was relieved to hear a scuffling sound nearby, and Kid’s voice grunt, “Yeah, right here. You okay?”

 

“I guess,” said Heyes, moving his arms and legs experimentally. Everything seemed to be in one piece. “You?”

 

“Yeah. God, it’s dark in here.” This was an understatement, Heyes thought. He stretched his eyes as wide as they would go, but could see not the smallest trace of light. He put his hand in front of his face, and moved the fingers an inch from his nose. He couldn’t see his fingers, or Kid, or the walls, or anything, anything at all.

 

He stood, swaying and finding it hard to keep his balance in the utter dark. He put his hands in front of him and felt at the empty air like a blind man. “Where’s the wall?” he said, longing to feel something solid, some point of reference in the emptiness. 

 

“I don’t know,” Kid muttered. “I can’t see a thing.”  They shuffled around, groping, till Heyes heard a thunk. “Ow!” said Kid’s voice, off to his left. “Here it is.”  Heyes went towards the sound till his outstretched fingers hit the solid rock. They both felt at the cold, dusty surface. “Well, it’s a wall, all right,” said Kid. “Which way’s the way out, that’s the question.”

 

“This is solid rock, it’s the mine wall, said Heyes. “Feel around till we hit the pile of dirt, that’s the way out.” They bumped into each other. “Get out of the way,” growled Kid.

 

“Go to the right,” said Heyes, and he went left, scrabbling and feeling at the wall. It was only a few steps till he came to a corner, and he could feel the piled-up dirt and stones as high as he could reach.  “Over here,” he said. “This is where it caved in, I can feel the loose dirt.”

 

“I’ll go all the way around,” said Kid. Heyes could hear his shuffling footsteps; they were the only sound in the heavy silence beside his own breathing. In a minute or two the footsteps were beside Heyes again. “That’s it,” Kid said. “Just about the size of a cheap hotel room. We were damned lucky the rest of the roof didn’t fall in on our heads.” 

 

“That’s so,” Heyes agreed. “Come on, let’s get out of here, I don’t care if it’s raining cats and dogs outside. I’ve explored all I want to in this mine.” They began to scratch at the invisible wall in front of them, heaving the big rocks loose, and scooping handfuls of dirt out from between the close-packed stones.  It was hard work, and they began to pant. 

 

“Man, I could eat a horse,” Kid said. “I could eat two horses. I was planning on a turkey dinner when we got to town...”

 

“Stop talking about food,” Heyes snapped, throwing a rock over his shoulder. “It just makes it worse.”

 

“Turkey with gravy and cornbread stuffing...” said Kid dreamily.

 

“No talking about food, that’s the rule,” said Heyes firmly.

 

“Oh, yeah, since when do you make the rules?” said Kid.

 

“It’s just common sense, that’s all,” Heyes explained. “Talking about food makes you hungrier. As soon as we dig out of here, you can talk about all the turkey you want.” They worked away at the pile of rock, expecting any minute to see daylight. But they dug and scratched for a long time, and still there was rock, and dirt, and more rock piled up in front of them.

 

“Break time,” said Heyes, and they sat down on the floor, backs against the rough cold stone. Heyes stretched his tired arms, and tried to brush the dirt off his hands and face. He could hear Kid’s quiet breathing next to him in the dark.

 

“How long you figure it’ll take to dig out?” asked Kid.

 

“A while,” Heyes said ruefully.  “Lot of rock came down, that’s for sure.” He lay back

against the wall, trying to think about anything but the back-breaking work ahead of them.

 

“Kid?” he said at last.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What do you want to do, I mean, after we get out of here.”

 

“Eat,” replied Kid.

 

Heyes smiled. “I mean later, after we’ve been out of here for a while.”

 

“So do I.”

 

Heyes resisted the impulse to heave a rock in the direction of Kid’s voice. “No, really...I mean, later, next year, after we get the amnesty and all. What you want to do then?”

 

There was such a long silence that he wondered if Kid had fallen asleep. Finally Kid said. “Oh, I don’t know...settle down in some little town maybe...have a few kids...get married...”

 

“I think you’ve got the order a bit mixed up,” Heyes told him.

 

“Not necessarily,” Kid retorted, and Heyes could imagine his grin.. “I don’t know, never really thought too much about it. Nothing much. Just something...quiet, I guess. Not having to look over our shoulders all the time, not having to watch everybody, you know?” 

 

“I know,” said Heyes.

 

“But I never really think about it, seems like it’s bad luck to plan too far ahead. Like counting your chickens before they hatch.”

 

“Don’t talk about food,” said Heyes, and heard Kid give a snort of laughter. There was a pause.

 

“What do you want to do?” asked Kid.

 

“Oh, I don’t know.”

 

“Yes, you do,” said Kid promptly. “You always say ‘oh I don’t know’ in that casual tone when you’ve got it all figured out and you know I’m not gonna like it.” Heyes gave a rueful laugh.

 

“Well?” demanded Kid.

 

“Well, I was thinking... just sort of toying with the notion, you know...”

 

“Yes?” Kid prodded.

 

“Of being a Bannerman man.”

 

“A what!”

 

“You heard me,” said Heyes with irritation.

 

“I must be going deaf. You want to be Harry Briscoe when you grow up?”

 

“Not a Bannerman man like him. But think about it, Kid, who’d be better at catching criminals than us? We’d be great at it, we know all the tricks of the trade. And it’s got to pay pretty good...” He heard Kid chuckling quietly in the dark. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.

 

“I don’t know,” said Kid. “It might not be bad at that. Come on, before you can be a Bannerman man, and I can have dinner, we got a lot of digging to do.” Heyes nodded, then remembered Kid couldn’t see him, and got heavily to his feet. He could hear from Kid’s slow movements that he was just as tired. Heyes wondered how much longer they’d have to dig before they saw daylight. His eyes seemed to be aching for a sight of the sun.

 

They dug at the rock and dirt that were heaped between them and the way out, scratching like animals with their bare hands. “I wish I had a pick,” Heyes grunted.

 

“If wishes were horses,” said Kid. “Why don’t you just wish for a doorway outta here, and be done with it.”

 

“I’d settle for a pick,” Heyes said. “I’d pay a hundred dollars for a pick.”

 

“Before this is over you might be willing to pay more than that,” Kid said, and there was a grim note to his voice that made Heyes shiver a bit. He began to consider the possibility that they  might be facing more than just the annoying chore of having to dig through some rock and dirt. Who could tell how much of the ceiling had collapsed? He had been assuming it was just a small section, but what if the mine roof had caved in all along its length? He felt a cold shudder down his back, trying to remember exactly how far back in they had walked. He began to dig at the wall again, using a piece of rock to pry loose the tight-packed dirt and stones.

 

There was no way to gauge time in the total absence of light. Heyes kept wondering what time it was, and feeling at the watch in his shirt pocket, but it was as useless as if he were a blind man. It had been well after noon when the cave-in had occurred, so he supposed it must be dusk now. He thought longingly of being outside, with the rain pouring on his face, drinking the raindrops from the sky. It felt like they had been digging for hours when he heard Kid stop and slump down on the floor with a sigh. Heyes stopped, too, and sat down beside him. The air was warm and sticky against his face, and smelled stale and close.

 

Finally Kid spoke into the blackness. “Maybe this is our punishment.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, my ma always said those that live by the sword will die by the sword.” Heyes opened his mouth, and Kid snapped, “And don’t make any smart remarks about me using a gun instead of a sword!” and he shut it again.

 

“I mean, we’ve done a lot of bad things, you and me,” Kid went on after a pause. “Remember that old man we robbed that time? And all the money we’ve stolen.”

 

“Yeah, but we’ve never really hurt anybody. Not bad, I mean.” Heyes protested.

 

“I’ve killed a few men,” Kid said.

 

“Well, no one that didn’t deserve killing.”

 

“Maybe,” Kid said, and Heyes could hear his sigh..

 

“What was she like, your ma?” asked Heyes curiously.

 

“I can’t hardly remember, she’s been dead so long,” Kid said. “Can you remember your ma?”

 

“Nah,” said Heyes, and sat with his eyes wide open in the utter darkness, remembering. There was a long silence. “So what other things did your ma say?” he asked, to fill the silence and get his mind on another subject. 

 

“Well, she used to say everyone had their end already determined when they were born,” Kid said slowly. Heyes shivered a little. “Everyone, every little baby, even, had a fate that was planned, and they couldn’t avoid it.”

 

“That’s crazy,” said Heyes. “I’ve heard some of those Bible-thumping preachers say that, they’re just trying to scare people.”

 

“She really believed it,” said Kid. “She used to say, “Every night and every morn, some to misery are born, every morn and every night, some are born to sweet delight. Some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night.”

 

“Oh, that’s cheerful,” said Heyes. They sat for a while. “I don’t think it works like that, Kid,” he added. “I think the chips just fall where they may. Look at all the rich bastards out there, and the poor, good folks who die young. There’s plenty of folk done a lot worse than us, who die peacefully in bed.”

 

“Maybe,” said Kid.  There was a long pause. The darkness seemed to press down on their heads, like a living thing.

 

“Maybe I was wrong,” said Kid slowly.

 

“About what?” asked Heyes.

 

“Maybe I was wrong when I said we were lucky the roof didn’t fall on our heads.”

 

Heyes had been having the same thought for the last hour or so. “Shut up,” he said roughly. “Come on, let’s get back to it.”

 

They dug wearily at the endless wall in front of them. Heyes scratched at the dirt, his fingers sore and aching, and heard the steady trickle and clatter of stones and pebbles falling on the ground. Kid’s words kept running uncomfortably around in his head. Endless night...endless night. It was getting harder to tell if it was minutes or hours that were passing.

 

He came to a large rock embedded in the dirt, about as high as his head. He felt around it, scratching the dirt from underneath, but couldn’t get a good hold to work it free. He pulled and pushed at the stone, trying to get a grip on the rough surface, and shaking the edges in attempt to get it loose. He worried at it more and more desperately, clawing at the stone, and began to curse under his breath. Finally he pounded his fists against the dark stone in front of him. He felt Kid’s hand on his shoulder, and flung it off, pounding at the rock and calling it every dirty name he could think of.  

 

Heyes felt a firm grip on both shoulders, and he was hauled a few steps backwards. “Hey, hey, hey,” Kid said, in the quiet voice Heyes had heard him use to calm the spooked horse. “Take it easy, partner. Take it easy.”

 

Heyes stood shaking, fists clenched, then slowly drew a deep breath. “Sorry,” he muttered. He felt Kid lightly ruffle his hair, and they went back to digging in silence. 

  

Heyes woke up slowly, from an oppressive nightmare about being in jail. He opened his eyes, and the blackness all around reminded him that they were in a place worse than jail. Endless night, he thought tiredly, wishing he could get the phrase out of his head.  He rolled over, his back aching from the hard rock floor beneath him, and glanced around. He could see Kid a few feet away, curled up in a miserable huddle on the ground, just a dark blur in the dense shadows. Heyes put his head down on his arms, and closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep. Even the worst nightmare was preferable to the grim reality of the trap they were in.

 

He supposed they should start again at the hopeless task of digging. He had a vision of the two of them, twenty years from now, dry bones lying on the floor in the pitch darkness, their dead hands still scratching at the wall. He shook his head to get rid of the idea, and coughed. The air smelled stuffy and foul, and his throat was bone-dry.

 

As he lay with his head on his arms, a flicker of a thought came to him. It gleamed in his mind like the tiny glow of a firefly, and he considered it. Then he raised his head and looked again at Kid, the dark shape huddled against the darker wall, and leaped up with a yell that brought Kid wide awake and staring.

 

“What’s the matter, have you gone loco?” Kid demanded blearily, sitting up with his gun in his hand. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your fool head off.”

 

“I can see you!” shouted Heyes. “I can see you!"

 

“Well, so what?” Kid shrugged, shoving the gun back in the holster. “Our eyes are just getting used to the dark.”

 

“No! No! There’s no light at all in a cave like this, there’s got to be light coming from a crack somewhere!” He looked around frantically, and Kid scrambled to his feet and stood staring, too. Sure enough, the mine, although they would have described it as pitch black a day ago, had a slight illumination, so that he could see Kid as a dim, moving shadow. “Over there, it’s brighter in this corner,” Heyes cried, and darted over to the area that seemed least dark. There, between two large slabs of rock, he saw a pinprick of light that shone with the blazing fierceness of a diamond.

 

They clawed at the speck of light, tearing the dirt and rocks away from it.. “Why didn’t we see it before?” shouted Kid over the noise of the flying dirt and pebbles.

 

“It was dark and stormy when the roof fell in, and it was a moonless night,” said Heyes, panting. “But the night’s over, now, Kid, the night’s over!” They scrabbled at the tiny opening, and the dirt fell on their upturned faces. The glare stabbed their eyes with pain, and they both stopped for a second, covering their faces, blindly slapping each other on the back and jigging up and down with wild laughter. Then they threw themselves at the crack, feeling it widen with every minute. 

 

Their celebratory dinner in the hotel that night was long, hilarious, and accompanied by at least twelve mugs of beer apiece. The other diners in the hotel looked at them wonderingly, as they roared with laughter and toasted each other again and again. Finally Heyes began to fear they were a little too conspicuous, and they decided to head upstairs to bed. They were still surprisingly sober, Heyes thought, although they weaved up the stairs, clinging to the bannisters. He lit the kerosene lamp, and looked around at the dingy little room, two narrow iron bedsteads, peeling wallpaper, and a washstand with a large pitcher of water.

 

He caught Kid’s eye. “Beautiful place, ain’t it?’”he said, grinning.

 

 

Endless Night

By Anita Sanchez

 

 

A sudden gust of wind blew twigs and dried leaves up from the ground in a little scurry of dust. Heyes pulled his hat lower over his eyes, and reined in his horse to look back over his shoulder. “Getting darker,” he said uneasily.

 

“It’s at least two hours before sundown,” remarked Kid. “That’s a storm blowing in, feel that cold wind?” They both paused on the crest of a low hill, looking to the west, where a dark rim of clouds drowned the light of the setting sun.

 

As they rode on, Heyes kept looking back at the black clouds rising higher over the bare sandstone hills behind them. “We’ll never get to Henleyville before the storm breaks, it’s another ten miles at least,” he called, noticing that he had to raise his voice to be heard over the rising wind.

 

“I know, it’s gonna come down in torrents any minute,” Kid called back. A low rumble of thunder sounded, and Kid’s horse jolted sharply sideways, almost throwing him. He managed to hang on, and pulled back on the reins gently. “Hey, hey, take it easy,” he said soothingly.

 

“This storm’s gonna be a humdinger,” said Heyes. “We better get under cover somewhere.”

 

“Nothing but bare rock and scrub-brush,” said Kid, looking around at the low red hills.

 

Heyes pointed to a dark opening in one of the hillsides. “Look, that’s gotta be an old mine. All kinds of old abandoned tin workings around here.”

 

“It’ll do, I guess,” said Kid. “Any port in a storm.” A few heavy drops of rain began to spatter down on the dry ground. They rode hastily over to the mouth of the mine, a low, semicircular hole in the side of the hill, supported by sagging beams propped on each other. Kid’s horse shied nervously again as they approached the dark opening. They dismounted and peered in cautiously, feeling a cool draft of air flowing into their faces. “Black as your hat in there,” said Kid doubtfully.

 

“Well, we’re not going to live here, I just want to get out of the rain,” said Heyes.

 

“You’re like a cat who hates to get its paws wet,” said Kid. “A little rain won’t melt you.”

 

“Fine, you wait out there, and tell me when it lets up,” said Heyes. He led his horse into the dark opening. Kid looked up at the black sky. A sudden rattle of hail made his horse snort and shake its head, backing. “Oh, well, why not,” Kid said.  “A little dark never hurt anyone.”

 

They went in thirty feet or so, to get out of the wind that whistled uncomfortably down the tunnel, their footsteps echoing off the rock walls on either side. Where the tunnel bent at a slight angle, the wind let up, but it was almost pitch dark. “This’ll do,” said Heyes. “Let’s leave the horses here.” They dropped the reins, and the horses stood, heads down.

 

“Now what?” asked Kid. “It isn’t very cozy.”

 

“Let’s explore a little further in,” said Heyes. “If there’s any old posts or wood lying around, maybe we can get a fire going. There’s no moon tonight, it’ll be too dark to travel soon. We might as well spend the night.” They walked deeper into the tunnel, but it wasn’t long till they came to a dead end, a sheer face of rock.

 

“Looks like it peters out here,” Kid said, glancing around the dark walls. “Somebody sure went bust working this mine.”

 

Suddenly a crack of thunder echoed in the tunnel, shockingly loud. They both jumped, and whirled around to see Kid’s horse toss its head and snort, backing and sidling in fear. Kid started down the tunnel towards the animals, but another bang of thunder made both horses plunge and rear in fright. One horse skidded and fell, in a jumble of flailing legs and eerily human screams. Plunging in panic, the horse scrambled up, then fell sideways again, crashing into the wooden post that supported the roof.

 

“Look out!” Heyes yelled. He heard a deeper rumbling mix with the crash of the thunder, and flung himself backward as stones from the roof  fell, first small ones, then big chunks of rock, smashing to the floor. Then a cascade of dirt began flowing from the roof like a waterfall. The light vanished, and the hollow muffled booming turned to a deafening roar that shook the ground.

 

When the noise finally subsided, Heyes found himself lying face down on the cold, dusty rock of the mine floor. He coughed, dust filling his lungs and clogging his mouth and nose. He spat out dust and coughed and spat again, and finally sat up, panting. He scrubbed the dust out of his eyes with his sleeve, and looked around. It was dark, utterly, completely dark. “Kid?” he said, and was relieved to hear a scuffling sound nearby, and Kid’s voice grunt, “Yeah, right here. You okay?”

 

“I guess,” said Heyes, moving his arms and legs experimentally. Everything seemed to be in one piece. “You?”

 

“Yeah. God, it’s dark in here.” This was an understatement, Heyes thought. He stretched his eyes as wide as they would go, but could see not the smallest trace of light. He put his hand in front of his face, and moved the fingers an inch from his nose. He couldn’t see his fingers, or Kid, or the walls, or anything, anything at all.

 

He stood, swaying and finding it hard to keep his balance in the utter dark. He put his hands in front of him and felt at the empty air like a blind man. “Where’s the wall?” he said, longing to feel something solid, some point of reference in the emptiness. 

 

“I don’t know,” Kid muttered. “I can’t see a thing.”  They shuffled around, groping, till Heyes heard a thunk. “Ow!” said Kid’s voice, off to his left. “Here it is.”  Heyes went towards the sound till his outstretched fingers hit the solid rock. They both felt at the cold, dusty surface. “Well, it’s a wall, all right,” said Kid. “Which way’s the way out, that’s the question.”

 

“This is solid rock, it’s the mine wall, said Heyes. “Feel around till we hit the pile of dirt, that’s the way out.” They bumped into each other. “Get out of the way,” growled Kid.

 

“Go to the right,” said Heyes, and he went left, scrabbling and feeling at the wall. It was only a few steps till he came to a corner, and he could feel the piled-up dirt and stones as high as he could reach.  “Over here,” he said. “This is where it caved in, I can feel the loose dirt.”

 

“I’ll go all the way around,” said Kid. Heyes could hear his shuffling footsteps; they were the only sound in the heavy silence beside his own breathing. In a minute or two the footsteps were beside Heyes again. “That’s it,” Kid said. “Just about the size of a cheap hotel room. We were damned lucky the rest of the roof didn’t fall in on our heads.” 

 

“That’s so,” Heyes agreed. “Come on, let’s get out of here, I don’t care if it’s raining cats and dogs outside. I’ve explored all I want to in this mine.” They began to scratch at the invisible wall in front of them, heaving the big rocks loose, and scooping handfuls of dirt out from between the close-packed stones.  It was hard work, and they began to pant. 

 

“Man, I could eat a horse,” Kid said. “I could eat two horses. I was planning on a turkey dinner when we got to town...”

 

“Stop talking about food,” Heyes snapped, throwing a rock over his shoulder. “It just makes it worse.”

 

“Turkey with gravy and cornbread stuffing...” said Kid dreamily.

 

“No talking about food, that’s the rule,” said Heyes firmly.

 

“Oh, yeah, since when do you make the rules?” said Kid.

 

“It’s just common sense, that’s all,” Heyes explained. “Talking about food makes you hungrier. As soon as we dig out of here, you can talk about all the turkey you want.” They worked away at the pile of rock, expecting any minute to see daylight. But they dug and scratched for a long time, and still there was rock, and dirt, and more rock piled up in front of them.

 

“Break time,” said Heyes, and they sat down on the floor, backs against the rough cold stone. Heyes stretched his tired arms, and tried to brush the dirt off his hands and face. He could hear Kid’s quiet breathing next to him in the dark.

 

“How long you figure it’ll take to dig out?” asked Kid.

 

“A while,” Heyes said ruefully.  “Lot of rock came down, that’s for sure.” He lay back

against the wall, trying to think about anything but the back-breaking work ahead of them.

 

“Kid?” he said at last.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What do you want to do, I mean, after we get out of here.”

 

“Eat,” replied Kid.

 

Heyes smiled. “I mean later, after we’ve been out of here for a while.”

 

“So do I.”

 

Heyes resisted the impulse to heave a rock in the direction of Kid’s voice. “No, really...I mean, later, next year, after we get the amnesty and all. What you want to do then?”

 

There was such a long silence that he wondered if Kid had fallen asleep. Finally Kid said. “Oh, I don’t know...settle down in some little town maybe...have a few kids...get married...”

 

“I think you’ve got the order a bit mixed up,” Heyes told him.

 

“Not necessarily,” Kid retorted, and Heyes could imagine his grin.. “I don’t know, never really thought too much about it. Nothing much. Just something...quiet, I guess. Not having to look over our shoulders all the time, not having to watch everybody, you know?” 

 

“I know,” said Heyes.

 

“But I never really think about it, seems like it’s bad luck to plan too far ahead. Like counting your chickens before they hatch.”

 

“Don’t talk about food,” said Heyes, and heard Kid give a snort of laughter. There was a pause.

 

“What do you want to do?” asked Kid.

 

“Oh, I don’t know.”

 

“Yes, you do,” said Kid promptly. “You always say ‘oh I don’t know’ in that casual tone when you’ve got it all figured out and you know I’m not gonna like it.” Heyes gave a rueful laugh.

 

“Well?” demanded Kid.

 

“Well, I was thinking... just sort of toying with the notion, you know...”

 

“Yes?” Kid prodded.

 

“Of being a Bannerman man.”

 

“A what!”

 

“You heard me,” said Heyes with irritation.

 

“I must be going deaf. You want to be Harry Briscoe when you grow up?”

 

“Not a Bannerman man like him. But think about it, Kid, who’d be better at catching criminals than us? We’d be great at it, we know all the tricks of the trade. And it’s got to pay pretty good...” He heard Kid chuckling quietly in the dark. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.

 

“I don’t know,” said Kid. “It might not be bad at that. Come on, before you can be a Bannerman man, and I can have dinner, we got a lot of digging to do.” Heyes nodded, then remembered Kid couldn’t see him, and got heavily to his feet. He could hear from Kid’s slow movements that he was just as tired. Heyes wondered how much longer they’d have to dig before they saw daylight. His eyes seemed to be aching for a sight of the sun.

 

They dug at the rock and dirt that were heaped between them and the way out, scratching like animals with their bare hands. “I wish I had a pick,” Heyes grunted.

 

“If wishes were horses,” said Kid. “Why don’t you just wish for a doorway outta here, and be done with it.”

 

“I’d settle for a pick,” Heyes said. “I’d pay a hundred dollars for a pick.”

 

“Before this is over you might be willing to pay more than that,” Kid said, and there was a grim note to his voice that made Heyes shiver a bit. He began to consider the possibility that they  might be facing more than just the annoying chore of having to dig through some rock and dirt. Who could tell how much of the ceiling had collapsed? He had been assuming it was just a small section, but what if the mine roof had caved in all along its length? He felt a cold shudder down his back, trying to remember exactly how far back in they had walked. He began to dig at the wall again, using a piece of rock to pry loose the tight-packed dirt and stones.

 

There was no way to gauge time in the total absence of light. Heyes kept wondering what time it was, and feeling at the watch in his shirt pocket, but it was as useless as if he were a blind man. It had been well after noon when the cave-in had occurred, so he supposed it must be dusk now. He thought longingly of being outside, with the rain pouring on his face, drinking the raindrops from the sky. It felt like they had been digging for hours when he heard Kid stop and slump down on the floor with a sigh. Heyes stopped, too, and sat down beside him. The air was warm and sticky against his face, and smelled stale and close.

 

Finally Kid spoke into the blackness. “Maybe this is our punishment.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, my ma always said those that live by the sword will die by the sword.” Heyes opened his mouth, and Kid snapped, “And don’t make any smart remarks about me using a gun instead of a sword!” and he shut it again.

 

“I mean, we’ve done a lot of bad things, you and me,” Kid went on after a pause. “Remember that old man we robbed that time? And all the money we’ve stolen.”

 

“Yeah, but we’ve never really hurt anybody. Not bad, I mean.” Heyes protested.

 

“I’ve killed a few men,” Kid said.

 

“Well, no one that didn’t deserve killing.”

 

“Maybe,” Kid said, and Heyes could hear his sigh..

 

“What was she like, your ma?” asked Heyes curiously.

 

“I can’t hardly remember, she’s been dead so long,” Kid said. “Can you remember your ma?”

 

“Nah,” said Heyes, and sat with his eyes wide open in the utter darkness, remembering. There was a long silence. “So what other things did your ma say?” he asked, to fill the silence and get his mind on another subject. 

 

“Well, she used to say everyone had their end already determined when they were born,” Kid said slowly. Heyes shivered a little. “Everyone, every little baby, even, had a fate that was planned, and they couldn’t avoid it.”

 

“That’s crazy,” said Heyes. “I’ve heard some of those Bible-thumping preachers say that, they’re just trying to scare people.”

 

“She really believed it,” said Kid. “She used to say, “Every night and every morn, some to misery are born, every morn and every night, some are born to sweet delight. Some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night.”

 

“Oh, that’s cheerful,” said Heyes. They sat for a while. “I don’t think it works like that, Kid,” he added. “I think the chips just fall where they may. Look at all the rich bastards out there, and the poor, good folks who die young. There’s plenty of folk done a lot worse than us, who die peacefully in bed.”

 

“Maybe,” said Kid.  There was a long pause. The darkness seemed to press down on their heads, like a living thing.

 

“Maybe I was wrong,” said Kid slowly.

 

“About what?” asked Heyes.

 

“Maybe I was wrong when I said we were lucky the roof didn’t fall on our heads.”

 

Heyes had been having the same thought for the last hour or so. “Shut up,” he said roughly. “Come on, let’s get back to it.”

 

They dug wearily at the endless wall in front of them. Heyes scratched at the dirt, his fingers sore and aching, and heard the steady trickle and clatter of stones and pebbles falling on the ground. Kid’s words kept running uncomfortably around in his head. Endless night...endless night. It was getting harder to tell if it was minutes or hours that were passing.

 

He came to a large rock embedded in the dirt, about as high as his head. He felt around it, scratching the dirt from underneath, but couldn’t get a good hold to work it free. He pulled and pushed at the stone, trying to get a grip on the rough surface, and shaking the edges in attempt to get it loose. He worried at it more and more desperately, clawing at the stone, and began to curse under his breath. Finally he pounded his fists against the dark stone in front of him. He felt Kid’s hand on his shoulder, and flung it off, pounding at the rock and calling it every dirty name he could think of.  

 

Heyes felt a firm grip on both shoulders, and he was hauled a few steps backwards. “Hey, hey, hey,” Kid said, in the quiet voice Heyes had heard him use to calm the spooked horse. “Take it easy, partner. Take it easy.”

 

Heyes stood shaking, fists clenched, then slowly drew a deep breath. “Sorry,” he muttered. He felt Kid lightly ruffle his hair, and they went back to digging in silence. 

  

Heyes woke up slowly, from an oppressive nightmare about being in jail. He opened his eyes, and the blackness all around reminded him that they were in a place worse than jail. Endless night, he thought tiredly, wishing he could get the phrase out of his head.  He rolled over, his back aching from the hard rock floor beneath him, and glanced around. He could see Kid a few feet away, curled up in a miserable huddle on the ground, just a dark blur in the dense shadows. Heyes put his head down on his arms, and closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep. Even the worst nightmare was preferable to the grim reality of the trap they were in.

 

He supposed they should start again at the hopeless task of digging. He had a vision of the two of them, twenty years from now, dry bones lying on the floor in the pitch darkness, their dead hands still scratching at the wall. He shook his head to get rid of the idea, and coughed. The air smelled stuffy and foul, and his throat was bone-dry.

 

As he lay with his head on his arms, a flicker of a thought came to him. It gleamed in his mind like the tiny glow of a firefly, and he considered it. Then he raised his head and looked again at Kid, the dark shape huddled against the darker wall, and leaped up with a yell that brought Kid wide awake and staring.

 

“What’s the matter, have you gone loco?” Kid demanded blearily, sitting up with his gun in his hand. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your fool head off.”

 

“I can see you!” shouted Heyes. “I can see you!"

 

“Well, so what?” Kid shrugged, shoving the gun back in the holster. “Our eyes are just getting used to the dark.”

 

“No! No! There’s no light at all in a cave like this, there’s got to be light coming from a crack somewhere!” He looked around frantically, and Kid scrambled to his feet and stood staring, too. Sure enough, the mine, although they would have described it as pitch black a day ago, had a slight illumination, so that he could see Kid as a dim, moving shadow. “Over there, it’s brighter in this corner,” Heyes cried, and darted over to the area that seemed least dark. There, between two large slabs of rock, he saw a pinprick of light that shone with the blazing fierceness of a diamond.

 

They clawed at the speck of light, tearing the dirt and rocks away from it.. “Why didn’t we see it before?” shouted Kid over the noise of the flying dirt and pebbles.

 

“It was dark and stormy when the roof fell in, and it was a moonless night,” said Heyes, panting. “But the night’s over, now, Kid, the night’s over!” They scrabbled at the tiny opening, and the dirt fell on their upturned faces. The glare stabbed their eyes with pain, and they both stopped for a second, covering their faces, blindly slapping each other on the back and jigging up and down with wild laughter. Then they threw themselves at the crack, feeling it widen with every minute. 

 

Their celebratory dinner in the hotel that night was long, hilarious, and accompanied by at least twelve mugs of beer apiece. The other diners in the hotel looked at them wonderingly, as they roared with laughter and toasted each other again and again. Finally Heyes began to fear they were a little too conspicuous, and they decided to head upstairs to bed. They were still surprisingly sober, Heyes thought, although they weaved up the stairs, clinging to the bannisters. He lit the kerosene lamp, and looked around at the dingy little room, two narrow iron bedsteads, peeling wallpaper, and a washstand with a large pitcher of water.

 

He caught Kid’s eye. “Beautiful place, ain’t it?’”he said, grinning.