“Oh! Austin! You’re back!”
Channery beams at him from behind the reference desk as he walks through the front door of the library and past the small bank of computers. Austin tries to smile back at her, but doesn’t quite manage it, his lips twitching slightly in an expression that Channery can probably tell isn’t genuine. Her eyebrows furrow a little when he approaches her instead of walking past.
“Are you done helping Monty? Because you know you can have the rest of the day off if you need it.”
“Actually, I was hoping you could help me out,” Austin says. “I have some questions about the Antlers Mining Disaster that I thought you might be able to answer. And, uh, if not, maybe you can point me in the direction of some old newspapers or something?”
The way Channery’s eyes light up almost instantaneously makes Austin crack a genuine grin. He knows it’s not often that she gets asked to help with projects over the summer, once school is out. And as the resident town historian, she almost certainly knows more about the cave-in in the mines than any newspaper article.
“Of course I know about the Mining Disaster! Don’t be silly.”
Channery grabs the plastic Be Back Soon sign from behind the reference desk and props it up where any approaching library-goers can see it. She steps out from behind the desk and primly smooths out her dress before starting to head off in the direction of her office. Austin doesn’t even have to be instructed to keep up - he trails behind her, still grinning a little.
“I’ve actually been doing research on the old mine shafts for the book I’m working on,” Channery continues, without looking back at him. “I did a talk about the Disaster a couple of years ago, you know, and people said it was one of the most informative ones I’ve ever given.”
“That’s pretty much what I was hoping for,” Austin admits.
Channery’s office looks like a file cabinet exploded inside of it - printouts of maps, photographs, and old articles are strewn everywhere, pinned up on the walls, piled on her desk. Several crates of books are lined up against the back wall, and the bookshelf next to her desk is practically bursting at the seams with how over capacity it is. Channery squeezes past it, using one hand to keep any books from jumping ship as she slides into her desk chair.
“Sit, sit.” She motions towards the chair on the other side of the desk. “What do you want to know about the Mining Disaster, exactly?”
Austin sits - he would never argue with Channery - and crosses one leg over the other, hugging his knee with both hands. His teeth work at his bottom lip as he thinks. What does he want to know exactly? Was the monster in the mines already there when it collapsed? Did the miners wake it up? Or is it made out of the dead miners, like the lake entity seemed to think? Regardless of what it was, how was it sealed away?
None of those seem like questions that Channery could reasonably answer, so instead he settles for “Was there any foul play involved in the cave-in?”
“That’s a pretty loaded question.” Channery smiles, and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with one finger. It’s such a Richard-like gesture that it sends a tiny shock down Austin’s spine. “I guess you can’t tell me what you’re working on with Monty, huh?”
“You mean Sheriff Maxwell?” Austin asks, surprised that Channery is seemingly on a first-name basis with Monty. Granted, most of the people working at the Sheriff’s department are, but Channery?
“Oh, please. Monty and I have been friends since long before you turned up, Austin.” Channery waves a hand dismissively. “We’re allowed to have lives outside of work, aren’t we?”
Austin doesn’t know what to do except nod.
“Regardless,” Channery continues, still smiling, “as far as foul play goes, no one was ever able to prove anything. As far as the press was concerned, the cave in was completely unexpected and random. But I’ve talked to some of the families of the miners who died, and some of them are convinced that the higher-ups in the company that owned those tunnels knew that they were unstable, but kept sending miners in anyway because they were digging up so much gold.”
“Really?”
Channery nods gravely. “A lot of the families I’ve spoken to seem to think so. There’s no real evidence to back it up, so it could just be a conspiracy theory, or the need to pin the blame on someone. I’d love to get my hands on something from the mining company so I could know for sure. Memos or something. But I’m sure they’re all gone by now.”
She sighs, leaning her chin in her hands. Austin keeps chewing at his lip. If the miners had unfinished business…or even anger at the higher-ups for getting them killed, that could lead to something like this, couldn’t it? Some kind of poltergeist? But a poltergeist capable of eviscerating people would have to be -
Austin jumps up out of his chair. Channery startles, her eyes widening as she looks at him, and he tries to grin again to assuage her.
“Sorry, I just realized something. I think I am actually gonna take the rest of the day off, if that’s okay?”
“Of course, of course.” Channery waves her hand at him again. “Just stay safe, you hear?”
“I will,” Austin promises her, just like he promised Monty. “And thank you for the help!”
“You’re welcome,” he hears her call after him as he leaves her office, headed for the basement door at a brisk pace - not panicked, but purposeful. He hops down the stairs two at a time, nearly stumbling as he hits the floor, and isn’t surprised to see Richard, Mac, and Susie still down there, though it looks more like they’re just chatting rather than moving objects around, now.
“Back so soon?” Susie asks wryly.
“Only for a second,” Austin says, his voice hoarse as he catches his breath. “Got a question for you, Richard.”
“Shoot,” Richard says.
Austin thinks carefully about his question before asking it, and still isn’t sure that Richard will understand once it’s out of his mouth. It’s a tricky concept. “Is it possible for, like, a bunch of ghosts to…stick to each other? To, I dunno, fuse into some kind of amalgamate…thing? Maybe stronger than a regular ghost or poltergeist?”
“Oh, yeah,” Richard says almost immediately, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve seen that before in a couple cases. You think there’s one of those in Antlers?”
“I think the thing that the lake tried to summon while it was in Otter’s body is one of those,” Austin says. Mac looks concerned - Susie just looks confused.
“So, there’s some kind of super ghost hanging out in town?” she asks.
“In the mines outside of town,” Austin clarifies.
“It’s possible,” Richard says slowly. He covers his mouth with the side of his hand, his face pensive. “Especially if all of the souls were disturbed by the blood sacrifice summoning them all back at once. There’s a good chance that they could stick together and get agitated.”
“That’s what I’d hoped you’d say.” Austin turns to start back up the stairs. All I have to do now is go home, get my motorcycle -
“Austin, wait.” Mac says. “You’re not going back to the mine, are you?”
“I have to,” he says, squaring his shoulders, not turning around.
“You almost died last time.” Her voice cracks a little. “And now there’s something even more dangerous there. You - Austin, you might not be so lucky, this time.”
“It killed seven kids,” Austin says.
Mac doesn’t say anything else after that. Neither does Susie. Richard, on the other hand, clears his throat softly and floats up next to Austin.
“Well, if you’re going, the least I can do is come along for the ride.”
“Dad,” Austin says, looking up at him, “you really don’t have to.”
“I pretty much do,” Richard says. There’s a dangerous lightness to his tone. Austin doesn’t dare press the issue.
“Fine,” he says, “but we’re going home first. I’m not going to walk all the way to the damn mine.”
austin has the self preservation instincts of a moth flying directly into a super-heated lightbulb