Wrapping her scarf over her mouth and nose, she steps into the cage. Pavel follows, loading the equipment in, too. The miner clears his throat, then pushes a lever, and the lift jolts into action, lowering slowly into dusty gloom. Cilka checks the lamp Pavel handed her as they set off.
They go down, and down and down. Cilka tries to keep her breathing steady.
The lift stops at a tunnel entrance. Cilka clears her throat. She unlatches and pushes aside the lift cage door.
“It’s a bit of a walk,” the miner says, indicating he will stay where he is. “Just keep to the left.”
Cilka and Pavel do as he says.
“We’re here to help you,” she begins to yell out. Debris enters her lungs and she coughs. “Call out so we know where you are.”
“Here, over here,” she eventually hears from somewhere in front of her. The voice is weak, scared.
“I’m coming, hold on. Keep talking.”
“I’m here! Keep walking.”
By the light of her lamp, Cilka sees a hand waving at her. Scanning the area she sees three other men, not moving. She hurries to the man who had been calling out.
“I’m Cilka Klein.” She kneels and gently lays a hand on his shoulder. “Are you trapped?”
“My legs, I can’t move them.”
Cilka examines the man, seeing that his lower legs are pinned by a large chunk of rock. She gently pushes him down flat andchecks the pulse in his neck as Pavel arrives beside her, opening the container.
“What’s your name?” Cilka asks the injured man.
“Mikhail Alexandrovich.”
“Your legs are under a boulder, but I think we can move it as it’s not that big. You have a nasty cut on your head, which we can wrap up to stop the bleeding. Mikhail Alexandrovich, I need to go and see to the other men. Do you know how many of you were in here when the collapse began?”
“Four of us. The others had gone for a break. We were loading the last wagon.”
“I can see three others,” she says, waving her lamp around.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “Check on the others. I was calling their names but none of them answered.”
Cautiously, Cilka steps over the rubble covering the floor of the mine tunnel. On reaching the first man she checks for a pulse, finds one. Pulling back an eyelid, she holds her lamp above his eyes—one reacts. Running the lamp over his body she sees he is not pinned down, just unconscious.
“Pavel Sergeyevich, go back and convince that miner to come and help us. Take this one first. He’s unconscious but you can move him.”
“Be right back,” she hears as Pavel heads back to the lift.
Cilka finds a second man. Immediately she can see he is trapped under fallen rock. She finds no pulse.
The third man groans as she holds her lamp above his face.
“My name is Cilka Klein, I’m here to help. Can you tell me where you’re hurt?”
The man groans again.
“It’s all right. I’m going to have a look and see if I can find your injuries.”
She quickly identifies a badly broken arm, twisted in an unnatural position. A large rock is pressed up against his side. Gently,Cilka pushes on the man’s chest, from side to side, then further down his abdomen. He cries out in pain. With difficulty she pulls at his clothing, undoing his coat so she can see. Pulling his shirt and undergarments from his trousers causes him immense pain. Cilka sees the crush injury below his rib cage.
She hears the crunch of footsteps in the tunnel and Pavel is back with the miner, each carrying a stretcher. She scrambles over to the unconscious man.
“Load him up and get him out of here,” she says. “And then there’s another who can be taken out, but you need to go carefully. He’s badly injured and in a lot of pain. Get both of them out of here and I will tend to him in the ambulance.”