by C. Cervi
Aaron knew the pain of sitting was just too much for him and, getting up himself, shoved both of their bowls over to Philip. For the first time that morning, the boy showed some interest in something as he greedily wolfed down the food. A few of the other prisoners rose also, and Aaron glanced at the board to check their assignment. They were scheduled for the mine, but that was no surprise to him. What was a surprise was the fact that there seemed to be more numbers missing, and he quickly glanced around the room to see who was absent. Feeling a slight tug on his sleeve, he turned.
“It’s Annie and Meri,” Emily said, causing Aaron’s heart to lurch.
“What happened, are they . . . are they . . .” he couldn’t seem to finish the words, but he knew from the sadness that had settled over Emily’s features that they were gone. Emily’s next words started his head spinning, and the walls in the room seemed to start closing in around him.
“It was Annie . . . that was in the mine that day. . . Meri found her . . .”
There were other words, but Aaron didn’t hear them as he hurried from the room. He burst through the door and taking only a few more steps landed on his knees on the rocky ground. It was Annie! The girl whose body had been so . . . he pushed the thought aside as his breakfast threatened to come back up.
It’s my fault.
“It’s not your fault,” Keith said coming up behind him as if he could read his brother’s thoughts. “You couldn’t have known. If you hadn’t gone, I would have.”
Keith’s voice was desperate as he tried to console his brother, but Aaron only heard bits and pieces. His vision had gone cloudy, and the ringing in his ears was getting stronger. He fought hard, unwilling to give in to the blackness that seemed to be offering him a way to escape. From somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice pushed its way forward, forcing itself to be heard. Suddenly, he was standing by his mama’s grave with his baby brother tucked safely in the wagon and his father standing next to him. Pa was saying something, and Aaron tried hard to listen to those words from so long ago.
“I know this is hard for you to understand, son. When your mother died, I wanted to die right along with her, but you were there, and you needed me. Right now, you have a baby brother who needs you . . .”
Aaron couldn’t remember the rest, but what he had was enough. He’d had a duty then and he had a duty now—a little brother was still standing beside him—needing him. Pulling himself up off the ground, he took all the grief, pain, and guilt and shoved into a place deep inside of himself. He knew that place was getting pretty full and that someday, he would have to take all of that misery out and deal with it, but not today. He turned to the concerned faces of Emily and Keith.
“What happened to Meri?” he asked, bracing himself for the answer.
Aaron waited as she looked first to Keith, and Keith nodded for her to continue.
“We found him yesterday in his room. It looked as if . . . well, he . . .”
“He hung himself,” Philip said, as he marched past them. There was no disguising the loathing in his voice.
Aaron closed his eyes as another load of guilt hit him squarely in the stomach. He stood for a moment just breathing, and slowly a new emotion pushed itself to the surface—he decided to let this one have its way.
“What are they going to do? Just keep on torturing and killing us until there’s no one left. What sense does that make?” he demanded.
Ignoring Emily’s startled look, and Keith’s motions to calm him, he turned and headed for the shack where he knew Grant would be passing out tools. He didn’t normally allow his anger to take control but, right now, he needed the strength it was providing. As he approached the shack, the other prisoners saw him coming and, sensing something was about to happen, they quickly scurried into the mine.
“I want some answers,” he demanded when he was close enough for Grant to hear.
Grant’s features became hard and his eyes darted around the yard—checking for what, Aaron didn’t know.
“What makes you think I have any?” Grant replied—too loudly, almost as if he was speaking to someone besides Aaron.
Aaron resisted the urge to turn around and look behind him. “We both know you do,” he said, nearly spitting the words out. “You may not have complete control of everything going on, but you know a whole lot more than you’re saying.”
“Look, you need to stop shouting, and just calm down. Haven’t you suffered enough? Hasn’t everyone around you suffered enough? Just leave well enough alone.”
Grant couldn’t have known how close to home his words hit, but something inside of Aaron was now on fire and the flames were too big to be stamped out.
“I think it’s time for everyone to stop sitting around, cowering in corners—afraid to even speak. I think it’s time we stand up and fight back. And don’t ask me against whom. We both know you know the answer to that!”
Keith had finally made it over to the shack, along with a terrified Emily, but he was helpless to defend his brother as Grant pulled him by the front of his shirt into the shack and slammed the door.
Aaron gasped in pain as Grant shoved him up against the back of the door, the palm of his large hand pressing against his injured shoulder, and he flinched as Grant pulled back his fist. The last words he heard Grant speak puzzled him.
“We can’t talk now. Sorry, but I’ve got to make this look real.”
When Aaron woke up, it was to a new ache coming from his left eye, and he reached up to feel the tender area.
“Does it hurt as bad as it looks?” Keith asked, coming over with a small cup of water.
Aaron responded with a groan.
“Boy, when you go off half-cocked, you don’t hold back do you?” Keith continued, reaching out to feel his brother’s eye.
Aaron pushed his hand away and shook his head, trying to clear his vision. That was a mistake, and the back of his head hit the rock wall behind him hard.
“Easy does it,” Keith said. “You’ve been out for a while. You’re bound to be a little dizzy.”
Aaron waited for the stuffy chamber to stop spinning before answering.
“I’m more than just a little dizzy,” he said. “Is there more water?”
Keith handed him another cup full, and he drank it down quickly, holding it out for more. This time, he only drank half the water, dumping the rest over his head. He rubbed the cool water over his face, staying well away from his eye, and leaned back against the wall.
“Is this the first bucket or the second?” he asked.
“The first,” Keith replied. “No, lunch though. Emily says it’s because of your little . . . uh . . . encounter this morning. Apparently, they don’t like it when we fight.”
Aaron grimaced. “Great! So, you’ve been having to hold off the angry masses by yourself?”
“No, but if Grant doesn’t send someone in here to work with us soon, we may be in even more trouble. I haven’t been able to do much, and I’d say it’s a safe bet that we’re not even close to our quota.”
Aaron struggled to stand as Keith talked. Grant’s punch had done more than give him a black eye. His vision was blurry at best, and he fought off a wave of panic. He’d been in enough fights to know that it could take days before he would see clearly again.
“Are you all right?” Keith asked when Aaron continued to stumble along the wall.
Aaron chuckled lightly. “I’m the one that should be asking you that.”
“Well, I’ve spent the day standing up so far, so other than sore feet, I’m doing okay.”
Aaron knew better, but he didn’t want to dampen his brother’s spirits by pressing the matter. He was feeling sick to his stomach, and wasn’t really sorry that there was no lunch. Except, of course, for the fact that now everyone else was now starving because of him. His musings were interrupted as Keith pushed a small piece of cloth into his hand. Aaron looked up in confusion, and Keith mouthed the word Emily.
Aaron discreetly opened the tin
y bundle. Inside was a soft mound of powder that looked a great deal like the dust surrounding them. He figured it must be some kind of medicine—like the kind Emily had managed to get for Keith once before. He wondered with all the bottles of unlabeled medicines how she would know the difference, but then he remembered that she’d said her father was a doctor. Taking up one of the cups, he filled it with water and then carefully dumped the powder in. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed, but wasn’t able to detect any smell in particular. He hoped he was doing the right thing with it as he took a deep swallow. He then passed the cup to his brother, knowing that Keith needed healing as much, if not more, than he did.
Moments later, Cody and Doyle joined them. The two older men sent a withering glare in Aaron’s direction then, without speaking, went straight to work. Keith and Aaron did as much as they could, but between their abused bodies and Aaron’s bad vision, they accomplished very little. Emily brought the second bucket of water a short time later, but with other men in the room, she didn’t stay long. After what seemed like an eternity, their cart was full, and Aaron announced that he and Keith would empty it. When they arrived at the pit, both of them were about ready to collapse. Aaron helped Keith down onto the ground as gently as he could, and then dropped limply beside him. His younger brother turned onto his stomach and stretched out on the ground.
“Go ahead and rest,” Aaron told him. “Just for a few minutes.”
Aaron jumped at the sound of his name being called, and someone gently shaking him. As he squinted upward, Emily stood back.
“You were asleep,” she said. “They’ll come looking for you soon.”
Aaron wasn’t sure exactly who she meant by they, but he knew that he and Keith needed to get moving. Reaching over, he gently shook his brother, causing him to jerk awake.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron said. “Did I hurt you?”
“I’m okay,” Keith answered groggily, but Aaron knew by the tremble in his voice that he was hurting.
He looked again at Emily to thank her, and noticed that he was able to see her clearly. The pounding in his head and the swelling near his eye were also much better.
“Thank you,” he said to the young girl, putting as much meaning into his voice as he could manage.
She smiled and nodded her head. “I have to go. The Gardener is making supper—I’m supposed to help.”
Aaron breathed a sigh of relief over the news. Besides being worried about the other prisoners, his own appetite was starting to return, and he looked forward to having a meal. He and Keith worked together to empty the heavy cart and then push it back into the chamber. Doyle ignored them and kept on working, but Cody stopped for a minute and looked at them. Aaron caught a glimpse of sadness and, maybe, sympathy in the old man’s eyes before he turned back to his work. He was surprised when just a short time later, Grant came in announcing that it was time to quit for the day. He turned to Keith who gave him a lopsided grin.
“I guess we slept longer than I thought,” Aaron whispered.
Everyone seemed to be dragging, even more than usual that night. There was rarely much conversation going on, but that night there was only silence, except for the sounds of spoons busy scraping every last drop of stew from bowls that were much too small. Aaron didn’t so much as glance in Grant’s direction. He had spent a large portion of the day mulling over the man’s words. It seemed that Grant was willing to talk—they just needed the right time. Aaron reached up and gingerly felt his eye. Timing was something he really needed to work on, if he wanted to stay upright much longer. Aaron looked across the table at Philip. The boy hadn’t worked with them that day, and Aaron had assumed that because of his and Keith’s absence, Philip had been assigned to work in a different chamber. Philip’s shoulders were drooped, and Aaron could see tracks from tears left in the dirt on his cheeks. He knew he didn’t have the strength to talk to him that night, but the boy looked so forlorn. Taking a few more bites, Aaron slid his bowl across the table. Philip looked up, surprised, and Aaron gave him a tired smile. For just a moment, he saw a faint light come into the boy’s eyes. But it went out again quickly, and he watched as Philip inhaled the extra food. A few minutes later, almost as one, the prisoners stood and, after depositing their dishes, headed for the stairs. Once inside their room, Aaron stayed standing just long enough to make sure Keith got into bed, then collapsed onto his own. He was so tired that he didn’t even feel his head hit the pillow before sleep claimed him.
It was dark, much to dark for it to be anywhere near morning, and Aaron wondered why he was suddenly awake. For some reason his body was tense and he strained to listen. Then he heard it again, a soft creak, as if someone were opening a door. He darted his eyes in that direction, but it was shut tight. Another creak—this time it seemed to be coming from the other side of the room. Aaron’s heart began to pound in his chest, drowning out all other sounds.
Get up you coward.
Aaron was just about to sit up, when a pair of thick arms came out of the darkness toward him. One hand shot out, quickly covering his mouth, while the other held him down effortlessly. Aaron started to struggle, but a familiar voice stopped him.
“Calm down. I need you to come with me.”
Aaron exhaled slowly, but his body remained rigid. Grant let go of him, and Aaron squinted to see in the darkness. Grant brought a finger to his lips, then waved for Aaron to follow him.
Aaron shook his head. “I’m not leaving him,” he mouthed, pointing toward his brother’s bed.
He could hear Grant sigh softly. “Suit yourself,” he answered.
Aaron watched as Grant turned to leave, then he glanced frantically toward his brother. He didn’t want to leave him alone, but he needed answers. Slipping from his bed, he quietly crossed the room, placing a hand on Grant’s shoulder. The bigger man stopped.
“Follow me,” he said.
Aaron gave one last look at his brother, sending up a silent prayer, then watched in stunned silence as the wall before him opened up. The pounding in his chest started again, as Grant stepped inside what appeared to be a passageway. Forcing himself to breathe calmly, he joined Grant and jumped slightly as the wall closed behind him.
C
hapter 18
“Stay close to me,” Grant whispered. “And don’t make any noise.”
Aaron marveled as they made their way through long winding passages. The more rational part of his mind, at one point, had assumed there were hidden passageways, but injuries and fatigue had made him forget about the idea until now.
Most of the time the tunnels were narrow, with only enough room for them to walk single file—other areas opened up wider. There were small niches and corners, where if someone were very still it would be almost impossible to detect them. He had an opportunity to test this theory a few minutes later. Grant startled him as he turned and grabbed hold of Aaron’s arm. He quickly pushed Aaron into a corner, nearly causing him to cry out as his injured shoulder hit the wall.
“Not a sound,” Grant hissed, then turned around, taking a few steps forward.
It was then that Aaron saw the dim glow of a lantern approaching. Sucking in his breath, he flattened himself against the wall. As the light grew closer, he didn’t know whether the cold rush of air that flew over him was real or imagined, but the hair on the back of his neck stood up, regardless.
The sound of an icy voice sent chills through Aaron. “Out late again, I see?” the voice said.
“Just keeping an eye on things,” Grant answered.
Aaron shivered as the voice gave a low chuckle. Grant moved in front of him as the figure started to make his way past. Aaron could just barely see over Grant’s shoulder and, as the light from the lantern revealed a portion of a man’s face, he gasped slightly. Aaron pulled his head back even farther as the man turned at the slight noise.
“Where are you going,” Grant said quickly, stepping farther in front of Aaron.
Aaron did his best to not even breathe as the
man raised his lantern a bit, examining Grant closely. His eyes kept darting to the wall behind Grant.
Aaron blinked rapidly as hot sweat fell into his eyes, but he didn’t dare move. Finally, the man lowered the lantern a little. His face was horribly scarred and, as he twisted his lips into a smile, Aaron shuddered.
“Just . . . keeping an eye on things,” the man repeated Grant’s words, then turned down the corridor, chuckling once again.
Once the light had faded completely, Grant stepped back and motioned for Aaron to walk in front of him. Grant guided him from behind as they continued on. Aaron could feel the passage floor sloping downward, and several times, they walked down a short flight of stairs. Finally, they turned down a corridor that ended in front of a door. Aaron looked to Grant who nodded, and then pushed the door open. He quickly stepped inside, and Grant closed the door behind them. Where ever they were, it was too dark to see, but Aaron could hear Grant shuffling around behind him. He turned as he heard a match strike, and Grant handed him a candle. Aaron turned again, moving his candle around the room, then turned to Grant in surprise.
“We’re in the infirmary?” he asked.
Grant nodded and moved farther into the room.
“Who was that man?” Aaron asked, following him.
Grant hesitated before answering. “Someone out of a nightmare.”
“Well, that fits I suppose,” Aaron answered. “This whole place is a nightmare. Why did you bring me here?”
“Because this is the only place where we can talk safely,” Grant answered. “None of them ever come in here.”
Despite the man’s words, Aaron noticed he was continuing to keep his voice low.
“You have questions?” Grant asked, turning toward him.
Aaron had to fight not to laugh out loud, angered at Grant’s matter of fact tone. But this is what he’d been longing for and, suddenly his anger changed to desperation.
“Yes,” he answered. “What is this place? Who’s holding us here? How do we get out?”
