Ruled By Fear

by C. Cervi

  Aaron’s mind started to roam, wondering who the writer of the journal was. He noticed that whoever it was kept using the term prisoners. Grant had told him that the men were patients. He’d thought about mentioning the journal to Grant last night, but there hadn’t been enough time. Forcing his mind back to the present, he continued reading.

  Journal entry – 3 July

  The prisoners finally had enough. They’ve taken over; sadly, most of the workers are dead. They kept a few alive, the ones that had been kind to them. I fear even they won’t be safe for long. My only goal is to keep Jesse safe. I’ve hidden him away where the others can’t get to him. I’ve got to see if I can gain control before

  Aaron flipped through the pages, but the journal ended with those words. He went through the book again, scanning each page carefully, making sure he hadn’t missed something. He knew it had been too much to hope that the book would provide him the answer for a way out but, although he couldn’t explain it, he knew the information he’d received was important. He stood, slowly tucking the book and his questions away for now, then turned and started to examine the wall for the best way to climb back up. He noticed a small opening in the side of the wall with more leading up. Philip had told him there was a makeshift ladder of sorts, and he assumed the hand and foot holds were what the boy had been referring to.

  He turned back to the pile of gunpowder then, once again, took off his belt. This time he used it to stuff the small sacks inside, and by the time he was done, the belt was bulging and heavy. He quickly knotted the end and then rested it over his good shoulder. Between his bad shoulder and injured ankle, the climb was slow and painful. When he got close to the top, he flung the belt up ahead of him, and just as he grabbed onto the ledge, a hand reached out for him. Aaron startled and nearly lost his hold.

  “Easy there,” Keith said, taking hold of his arm, and pulling him up.

  Aaron was breathing so hard that he couldn’t respond, and sat on the ground for several minutes, wiping the sweat from his eyes.

  “Did you get it?” Keith asked, handing him a cup of water.

  Aaron nodded and then gasping, drank down the tepid liquid.

  “We better get back,” Keith said. “They haven’t said anything yet, but Cody was starting to glance in this direction and I could hear him mumbling.”

  Aaron picked up the belt full of gunpowder and started pushing the cart back toward their chamber.

  “Here, let me get it this time,” Keith said. “You look like you could use a break.”

  As they entered the chamber, Aaron made sure to keep Keith in front of him then, setting the belt on the ground, he quickly covered it with sand. Neither of the older men even glanced in his direction. Aaron wondered whether or not to approach them about his plan but, before he could make up his mind, Grant walked in and told Cody and Doyle they were needed in another area of the mine. Without so much as a word of acknowledgement, they took their tools and disappeared into the tunnels. Aaron turned when Grant didn’t follow them out. Here was an opportunity to talk to him about his plan. His pulse began to race as he tried to decide whether or not the man could be trusted—he hadn’t even had a chance to tell Keith his ideas yet. Grant hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, but he also seemed unsure. Aaron decided to listen to the small voice inside him—the voice that was telling him this man was a friend. Grant was just starting to walk away, when Aaron stepped up to him.

  “I think I may have a way out,” he said.

  Grant’s eyebrows pulled together at the same time his mouth turned down, and Aaron heard Keith gasp behind him.

  “Is it safe to talk here?” Aaron asked, keeping his voice low.

  “For the moment,” Grant answered slowly. “What do you have planned?”

  Grant asked the question with a mixture of caution and resignation, as if he’d heard it all before, and knew it was futile.

  Aaron ignored the churning in his stomach and continued. “I’ve got some gunpowder,” he said, then waited to see what Grant’s reaction would be.

  Grant’s frown deepened. “So did Annie and Meri, and you know what happened to them.”

  Aaron’s head began spinning. The explosion and then the cave in. That’s why Annie and Meri were still in the mine when all the other prisoners had left? For a brief moment he was relieved as the guilt he’d been feeling over their deaths washed away.

  “Is that why they . . . killed Annie?”

  Grant nodded.

  “But that doesn’t make sense,” Aaron continued. “Why did they blow up a chamber? What were they trying to accomplish?”

  Grant answered with one word. “Revenge.”

  Aaron took a moment to process that information. He couldn’t blame Annie, in fact her idea for revenge was similar to his plans for escape. Steeling his eyes he stepped up to Grant.

  “I know this plan will work. I think Emily’s father had the right idea about creating a distraction. The problem was, he didn’t make it big enough. I think if we manage to create enough distractions going on at the same time, we might have a chance.”

  “What you’re talking about is almost impossible,” Grant interrupted him, but Aaron decided to cling to the word almost. “Like I said before,” the man continued, “I don’t even know how many patients are still around. There are at least fifteen that I know of—at the most there are twenty-five. They’ve built tunnels and passages all through this mine, and they have people watching almost all the time—they know this place better than anyone.”

  “There must be some way we can draw the majority of them to the same area,” Aaron said.

  He turned to look at Keith, who was blinking in stunned silence.

  “Even if we could, what do you plan to do with them once they’re there?” Grant said.

  Aaron eyed Grant for a moment. This was the part he was unsure of, and Grant had already made his feelings known once before.

  “We do what G.C. wanted to do in the first place. We get them in the mine and then blow it up.”

  “No!” Grant’s response was adamant and immediate.

  “Grant, these men are murderers,” Aaron continued. “How many more people are going to have to die before you see they have to be stopped?”

  “You don’t understand,” Grant said, beginning to pace. “None of these men were killers. We did that to them. We made them who they are—it’s . . . its only right that we should suffer.”

  Grant’s voice faded as he finished his statement. He stopped pacing and turned to face the wall, running a hand roughly through his hair.

  “It’s Jesse, isn’t it?” Aaron asked, and was startled as Grant whipped around, suddenly, looking fierce.

  “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “What do you know about Jesse?”

  “I know that he was a patient here,” Aaron said, working to remain calm in the face of Grant’s wrath. “I know that someone was trying very hard to keep him safe. I think that someone was you.”

  Grant strode toward him, muscles taught, his fists clenched. Keith took a step toward his brother, but Aaron held up a hand to stop him. He stood his ground and faced Grant unflinching. Grant stopped before him, breathing hard. It seemed as if time stood still for a few moments, and then, Grant exhaled slowly and took a step back.

  “Jesse was my brother,” he said softly. “I want you to tell me how you know about him.”

  Aaron nodded and walked past Grant to the spot where he had buried the gunpowder. Emptying the belt, he removed the journal from the bottom, then returned to Grant, holding it out to him.

  “I found this the night Keith and I were trapped in the mine,” he said.

  Looking puzzled, Grant accepted the book and opened it up. As he flipped through the pages, Aaron noticed Grant’s features begin to soften, and when he looked up, he almost thought he saw a glimmer of tears in the man’s eyes.

  “Daniel’s got him, doesn’t he?” Aaron asked softly.

  He was taken aback
when an actual tear slipped down Grant’s rough cheek. “In a manner of speaking,” he said hoarsely.

  “Go ahead and tell him,” said a voice from behind them.

  Everyone turned in surprise as Cody and Doyle walked into the chamber.

  “You were listening?” Grant accused, although there was no anger in his voice.

  “I’ve known this one was up to something,” Cody said, nodding his head toward Aaron. “Thought you might be in on it. And he’s right you know? Too many people have died already for our mistakes, and they’ll keep on dying if we don’t do something about it. Go on, tell them about Jesse.”

  Grant stared at the two men that had survived a massacre with him for several long minutes, before he turned back to Aaron.

  “Jesse and I were about as close as two brothers can be. Something like the two of you,” Grant said, motioning to Aaron and Keith. “It was just after his twenty-first birthday that I started to notice things weren’t right. He kept getting terrible headaches and he couldn’t go out in bright sunlight. Eventually, he started talking to himself and then . . . then to others . . . others that weren’t really there. Things kept getting worse. He had terrible nightmares, and it got to the point where he couldn’t sleep without having a lantern on. He had never liked the dark, even as a child, but his fear seemed to be consuming him.”

  The chamber was silent, except for the distant sound of the other prisoners as they worked. All eyes were on Grant as he continued.

  “One night I couldn’t calm him—I tried everything, but he was terrified. He kept begging me to make the sun come up. I already had every lantern we owned burning as high as they could go. He was cowered in a corner, screaming when, suddenly, he stopped. He turned around and stared at me, and . . . it was like I was looking at someone else. After that night, whenever the sun went down he became this other person . . .”

  Grant’s voice trailed off and he seemed to have gone somewhere far away—to a place in the past.

  “This other person is the reason, Jesse had to be sent to the asylum,” Cody said, taking over for Grant. “The person he became at night was dangerous. He saw himself as Jesse’s protector and everyone else as the enemy. Once Grant had him admitted to the asylum, he became convinced that Jesse was a being held in a prison . . .”

  Cody’s words started to drone together as Aaron’s mind revisited entries from the journal.

  “It’s going to be up to me alone to get him out of here.”

  “I’m the only one that offers him any comfort.”

  “I think the sound of my voice soothes him.”

  “I’ve proven to him that I can keep him safe.”

  “I’ve hidden him away where the others can’t get to him.”

  Then Aaron remembered Grant’s words from a few moment’s ago when he’d asked if Daniel was keeping Jesse somewhere. Grant had said, “In a manner of speaking.” Aaron’s mind started to spin as he realized what Grant and Cody were saying.

  “Daniel is Jesse, isn’t he?” The room went quiet.

  “Yes,” Grant answered, returning from wherever his mind had taken him.

  Aaron watched as Grant dropped his head into his hand. Right now the huge man didn’t look intimidating, he looked anguished, defeated. He understood now why Grant fought so hard to keep the patients alive, and why he also felt bound to protect the prisoners. The man was being torn in two.

  “It’s time for you to admit the whole truth,” Doyle said, putting a hand on his friend’s arm. “Jesse’s gone. He’s been gone for a long time.”

  Grant nodded slowly. “I know,” he whispered. He rubbed his finger gently over a page in the journal.

  “I’ve hidden him,” Grant read aloud. “That’s what Daniel said in here. Well, he did. He hid him so deep that no one will ever find him again.” Pulling himself up straight, Grant faced the small group. “All right, we’ve got to come up with a way to get as many of the patients in here at one time as we can.”

  Thirty minutes later Grant, Doyle, and Cody had all left, and Aaron had just finished explaining to Keith what had happened the night before. Keith was barely able to contain his excitement over the possibility of escape and the two took out their nervous energy on the rocks around them. A short time later, Emily came in with their second water bucket for the day. Aaron turned to her with a smile, but noticed that her head was down, and she didn’t look up.

  “Thank you,” he said as he took the heavy bucket from her.

  Without responding, she abruptly turned to leave, but Aaron reached out and caught her arm. She gasped and turned quickly, her eyes filled with panic. Aaron immediately released her.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

  Emily pulled in her lower lip, keeping her eyes down. He could tell she was frightened, and he couldn’t be sure, but she seemed almost angry.

  “What is it?” he asked, gently reaching out to lift her face.

  She flinched slightly at his touch, but brought her eyes up to meet his. They were full of tears.

  “I heard you,” she said finally. “You’re planning to leave.”

  Aaron was slightly taken aback at her accusing tone, and worried that if she had heard them planning, that someone else might have heard them too.

  “Yes,” Aaron said. “If everything works out, we should be free soon.”

  Emily was quiet for just a moment, and when she looked up, the hurt shining in her eyes was almost more than Aaron could bear.

  “You . . . you promised that you would take me . . . to the mountains and the lake.” Her voice broke then and she looked away.

  Aaron got down on his knees in front of the girl and, once again, turned her face back to him. “Emily, I would never leave you here,” he assured her. “My plan is for all of us—all the prisoners to leave here together.”

  As she watched him, he could see understanding dawning on her face.

  “There’s something you should know about Colberts,” he continued. “We don’t break promises.”

  He gently chucked her under the chin, and then, with some effort, pushed himself back up.

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry,” she said, her hands nervously twisting at her loose clothing.

  “Don’t be,” Aaron answered. He then grew serious, took a step toward her, and whispered. “Just be ready. And when the time comes, do exactly as I say.”

  Some of the fear returned to her eyes then, but she nodded solemnly. He turned then and picked up a shovel.

  “She sure has taken a shine to you,” Keith said, after she’d gone.

  Aaron stopped working and glanced down the tunnel. “She’s kind of grown on me too,” he answered.

  Aaron lay in bed that night trying to still his restless thoughts. His part in the plan would begin tomorrow, and he’d gone over it in his mind a hundred times. Over to his left, he could hear Keith breathing deeply and knew that he had fallen asleep. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound—his little brother had always been able to sleep through just about anything. Though his mind was active, his body was weary and, eventually, his eyelids started getting heavy. He rolled over, pulling the thin blanket up around his chin, and exhaled slowly.

  Moments later, he heard the sound of a familiar creak and sat up, expecting Grant to be there. Looking around the room, he couldn’t see anyone. He stood up and moved toward the portion of wall that opened up into the passage. It was shut tight.

  You’re getting jumpy, old boy.

  Aaron turned and was heading back to his bed when he felt the point of a knife pressing against his back. He went cold and stood still.

  “Don’t turn around,” a voice that was vaguely familiar said. “I’m not alone—if you try anything, you won’t be the only one that gets hurt.”

  Aaron slowly raised his hands, and nodded. “I’m listening,” he said quietly.

  “We’ll help you,” the voice continued, “but we want something in return.”<
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  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered.

  “We know about your plan, and we think it will work. But you’re going to need our help.”

  “Who are you?”

  “We were patients here. We want to leave.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  Aaron was puzzled at the slight chuckling sound.

  “The same men that keep you here, and the medicine. We would die without it.”

  “How can you help me?” Aaron asked.

  “We can tell you when most of the patients will be together.”

  Aaron felt his heart speed up at this information. That was the one part of their plan they hadn’t yet been able to work out, and the part that was the most dangerous.

  “What do you want me to do for you in return for that information?”

  There was a pause and a soft sigh before the voice continued. “We want you to promise to get us somewhere where we can get help. Somewhere we can get the medicine without having to . . . without Daniel. ”

  Aaron could hear a weariness enter the man’s voice as he gave his request and, despite the knife being held to his back, he felt sorry for these men.

  “How many of you are there?” he asked.

  “Three.”

  “I can’t make any promises about how this will turn out,” he continued. “But I can promise you that I’ll do my best to get you what you need.”

  Another long moment of silence passed and Aaron’s shoulder was aching. He slowly allowed his hands to drop to his side.

  “Tomorrow night, Daniel will pass out the medicine in the mine,” the voice said finally.

  “Where in the mine?”

  “Where isn’t important. There are so many hidden rooms and passages you would never find it. The important thing to know is that you’ll have all the patients together for about twenty minutes.”

  “How will I know what time they’ll be there?”