Ruled By Fear (4 page)

    
Aaron couldn’t help the look of surprise that came across his face.

    
“You get more food than anyone else,” she continued, “because you’re working in the mine.”

    
“Where do the food and water come from?” Aaron asked.

    
Emily didn’t answer but, instead, took the empty water bucket and hurried out of the chamber.  Aaron stood gazing after her in confusion.

    
“She has a quota to fill too,” Tom said.  “She gets our rations from the Gardener.  He’s the one that has breakfast ready each morning and supper when we’re done.  No one knows where the water comes from.  There must be a well somewhere I suppose.”

    
Aaron was baffled.  He still had yet to see a single guard.  Escape seemed easy, granted without shoes, horses, and no water, a person wouldn’t get very far. He knew he was going to need a little more information before he and his brother attempted leaving.  He was glad to hear that there would be more to eat later.  He hadn’t had any breakfast and the small amount of food he had just consumed hadn’t even been enough to quiet his protesting stomach.  Stretching his weary muscles, he reached again for his shovel.  The dirt was packed and hard, and it had taken them all this time just to fill their cart.  He wondered where they were expected to dump the contents, and was about to turn and ask Tom when the man came up behind him and tapped his shoulder.

    
“You two are quite the workers,” he said, nodding his head toward Keith.  We’re making good time.  I’ll show you where to dump that as soon as our cart is full.”

    
Aaron smiled at the compliment in spite of himself.  He was beginning to like Tom.  He guessed him to be around his own age; early twenties.  The man’s younger brother, whom he had learned was named Philip, was a spunky little kid, though he didn’t talk much.  Aaron suspected that had something to do with the close watch and disapproving glances his older brother provided.

    
The other team in the room were two men, Doyle and Cody, who appeared to be in their late forties.  They weren’t blood related, but had been friends for more years than Keith had been alive.  Their attitudes were as gruff as their appearance, although Aaron sensed that it was more from exhaustion then their personalities.

    
They all took a few moments to sit and rest when Emily brought in the second bucket of water, several hours later.  Aaron worried about the young girl carrying the heavy buckets alone, but for now there wasn’t much he could do about it.  The men, all being exhausted, talked very little but Aaron did manage to discover that everyone brought here had come in pairs.

    
“They like it that way,” said Doyle, the older looking of the two men.  “They use us against each other.”

    
“What do you mean?” Aaron asked.

    
“You’ll see soon enough,” Cody answered, wiping some spilled water off his scruffy beard.

    
That was the only answer Aaron received as the men, once again, returned to work.  Aaron had hoped they were about done for the day, and cast a concerned glance toward his younger brother.

    
“I’m fine,” Keith said.  “I’m the young one, remember?  Come on let’s just get finished.”

    
As Aaron and Keith pushed their final cart load to the edge of a cavern and struggled to dump the heavy dirt and rocks over the edge, Aaron tried to push what Doyle had said out of his mind—it kept gnawing at him, making him anxious.

    
“They use us against each other,” he’d said.

    
Who?  And Why?

    
These men didn’t even seem to know for sure what they were mining for.  He looked again anxiously at Keith.  Whatever he decided to do, however they were going to escape, he would have to be very careful because his gut was telling him that his little brother, with his quick temper and keen sense of justice, wasn’t going to last long in this place.

C
 

hapter 4

   Just when Aaron was sure he couldn’t thrust his shovel into the hard rocky wall even one more time, Grant entered the chamber.

    
“Quitting time,” he called, and his deep, bass voice resonated around the chamber.

    
Aaron wondered how anyone could possibly keep track of the time in these dark, stuffy tunnels and, why Grant seemed to be the one always ordering everyone about, but he didn’t have the strength to do much more than drag his shovel behind him as he followed the other workers out of the mine.

    
Keith fell in step beside him.  Aaron noted the way he massaged at his back muscles, but there was still a slight spring in his walk.  He marveled once again at the seemingly boundless energy of the sixteen-year-old.

    
“Aaron,” Keith said, keeping his voice low, “when are we gonna make a break for it?”

    
Aaron inhaled sharply.  He’d wondered just how long it would be before Keith got antsy.  Somehow, he had to make him understand that there were other people at stake here, and that they couldn’t afford to act recklessly.

    
“Later,” he mouthed, shaking his head slightly.

    
Keith didn’t say anything more, but Aaron could see the corners of his mouth turn down.  He slapped him gently on the back, hoping to give him some sense of reassurance.

    
As they exited the mine, Aaron wasn’t surprised to see that the sun had already gone down and he shivered once or twice as the chilly evening air hit his overheated body.  If he was to guess, he’d say they had worked about ten hours that day.  He quickly put his shirt back on as Grant, along with the two other men that always seemed to be near his side, collected the tools and stored them in a small shed near the mine entrance.  Aaron noticed the shed door also had no lock.  All of the tools inside could potentially be used as weapons and Aaron questioned, yet again, the prisoners’ seemingly easy compliance.

    
Aaron was desperately wishing for a place to wash up.  He felt as if he’d gained ten pounds in dirt, and that mingled with his sweat was leaving him very uncomfortable.  As they entered the house, he realized with some dismay that the men were heading straight to the dining room.  There would be no washing first.  As soon as he entered the room however, all thoughts of tubs and soap went out of his mind as he breathed in the wonderful scent of food.

    
He and Keith chose to stay with their companions from breakfast.  Emily scooted closer to Aaron when he sat down and he gave her a friendly smile.  As soon as all the prisoners were seated, the Gardener began to pass out the food and, to Aaron’s relief, each person was being given a heaping plate of stew, in equal amounts.

    
“You have to be here to get your food,” Tom said to him.  “That’s why you didn’t get any breakfast this morning.”

    
Aaron nodded and tucked away that piece of information.

    
“Thank you,” he said as he was handed his plate.

    
The old man grunted disapprovingly.

    
Unfortunately, the stew didn’t taste nearly as good as it smelled.  There was no meat in it and, the vegetables that weren’t limp, fell apart when he tried to pick them up, but it was filling.

    
Aaron watched across the table to make sure Keith ate everything on his plate.  His brother at sixteen was just as picky an eater as he had been when he was two.  Hard work had sharpened his appetite however, and he ate his food quickly.

    
“What do we do now?” Aaron asked casually.

    
“We go to bed,” Tom answered, finishing the last of his water.

    
“And tomorrow?”  Aaron figured he knew the answer, but he asked anyway.

    
“The same as today,” Tom said.

    
Aaron noted the way Philip’s shoulders drooped at his brother’s answer.  It was easy to see the young boy was losing spirit.  Aaron decided to try harder tomorrow to get closer to Tom.  If he could somehow manage to get everyone working together, he felt they might stand a chance against whoever was holding them prisoner.  As he looked around the room at the sea of faces, he knew he had his work cut out for him.  Everywhere he looked he saw fear, despair, and defeated acceptance.

    
Before he could find a way to reach these people though, he needed some answers.  He had a plan to get some of those answers that night, but he needed to make sure Keith was out of harm’s way first.

     Just as suddenly as that morning, by some internal sense of timing, all the prisoners rose and, disposing of their dishes, shuffled out of the dining room and up the stairs.  Aaron talked to Keith as quietly as he could as they followed the crowd.

    
“I’m going to take a look around tonight,” he whispered.

    
Keith’s eyes lit up, but Aaron quickly dashed any ideas he may have had about joining him.

    
“I want you to see if you can get any information out of Philip,” he said.  “Maybe after Tom goes to sleep.  See if you can find out anything useful.”

    
“I . . .” Keith started and then looked away.

    
“What is it, Keith?” Aaron asked gently.

    
“Well, I . . . was kind of hoping I could move over to your room,” Keith answered.  “You know, so you won’t be by yourself.”

    
Aaron swallowed the smile that was threatening to cross his face.

    
“I appreciate that little brother, but I’m counting on you to get us some information.” He reached out and gave Keith a reassuring pat on the shoulder and, when they reached the top of the stairs, they turned down opposite sides of the hallway.

    
“Aaron,” Keith called softly from his doorway.

    
Aaron turned and leaned against the doorframe.  Keith hesitated for a moment before he spoke.

    
“Goodnight,” he said finally.

    
“Night, Keith,” he answered.

     Aaron entered his room and almost wished he had taken Keith up on his offer to stay with him.  It was much too dark to see and the room was cold.  He stumbled his way over to the table with the pitcher and, picking it up, noted that a small amount of water had been added.

    
Just enough to keep us going.

    
Crossing the room, he was glad to see that the chamber pot had been emptied, and he wondered if it was the Gardener, or perhaps Emily, that did the “housekeeping”.

    
His mouth still felt as if it were full of dust, and he was tempted to drink the water, but decided he should save it for morning.  Wiping his hand across his face, he groaned as he felt the sharp prickle of whiskers.

    
“Well, there’ll be no shaving just yet,” he told himself.

    
What he wanted more than anything was to stretch his body onto the bed and rest, but he knew if he did that he would be sure to fall asleep.  Instead, he settled himself on the floor and gazed at a small beam of moonlight shining through a crack in the wall.  There were enough tiny cracks for him to follow the moon’s movement across the bare, wooden floor and, when he was sure that a few hours had passed, he got up and slowly walked toward his door.

    
The door was unlocked but, for some reason, that fact did more to disturb than comfort him.  He rubbed at his stomach, trying to ease the queasy feeling he got anytime he snuck out after dark.  As a boy, he’d only dared to sneak out of the house a handful of times.  Thankfully, his father had only ever found out about two of them, but he had a feeling that the penalty for being caught here would be much worse than any his father had provided.

    
As he made his way quietly down the hall to the stairs, he was glad for the first time that day that he had no boots.  Working in the mine, he and Keith had had to take great care not to cut off a toe or run over a foot with the cart’s wheels, but now his bare feet were working to his advantage, and he moved soundlessly as he made his way to the first floor.  The house was dark and, from what he could tell, no one was stirring.  Making his way to the dining room, he quickly checked the board.  So far, no new assignments had been written.  He debated whether to choose a corner to hide in and wait until someone showed themselves, but he wanted to check the gate first.

He had almost reached the front door when he heard a creaking sound.  He froze, straining his ears for the slightest noise.  Off to the left he could barely make out a sound—like a slight breeze or
. . .”

    
Whispering

    
Looking around frantically, he saw an old wooden rocker near the front door, and quickly ducked behind it.  It offered very little protection, but his back was against the wall and he could, at least, see anyone approaching.  With his muscles cramped tight, and his heart pounding in his chest he waited, and waited and, after what seemed like an eternity slowly stood.  He hadn’t heard anything in quite a while and he hesitated for just a few more minutes as his breathing returned to normal.

    
For a moment, he felt like a child again—a child afraid of the dark, and a small part of him desperately wanted to run for the safety of his room.  But he wasn’t a child any longer and, stepping away from the wall, he took the last few deliberate steps to the door and quietly exited the house.

    
Outside, the air was cold and he rubbed his hands together as a chilling breeze tugged at his clothes.  The gate was no more than a dozen yards or so from the front porch.  Making his way across the yard, he winced as his feet hit against the cold, sharp rocks.  Halfway there, he stopped and turned toward the house.  There wasn’t a single light shining.  If a stranger had happened to be passing that way, they might mistakenly believe the house was abandoned.  He turned back and hurried toward the gate.  As he approached, he thought he heard the crunching of gravel from behind him.  He stopped and listened, again there were no further noises.

    
Careful, boy, you’re getting jumpy.

    
When he reached the gate, he gave it a push and stood back as it swung open freely.  He now wished that he had taken Keith with him after all.  The two could have worked together to get help and come back for the others, but there was no way he was going to leave his brother behind.  He stepped beyond the gate and followed the path for a short distance.  Dark clouds kept covering the moon, making it almost impossible to see.  As far as he could tell, the path took many twists and turns, and he figured that if he followed it long enough, it would eventually lead him out of the canyon.

    
Armed with that knowledge, he quickly headed back toward the house.  If he hurried, he and Keith might still have time to get out.  As he stepped inside the yard and turned to close the gate behind him, his back suddenly stiffened and, somehow, without hearing a single sound, he knew he was not alone.  He could feel the blood in his veins turn to ice as a hissing voice whispered his name.

    
Before he could turn around, he felt a sharp blow to the back of his neck, and as his body slumped to the ground, the last thing he saw was the spark of a match being lit.

    
Slowly, and painfully, Aaron woke the next morning.  His head felt as if it had been used as target practice for an archer.  He sat up stiffly, every muscle in his body screaming at him to lie back down.  He forced himself up as the memory of his midnight run came drifting back to him.  Dragging himself over to the water pitcher, he drank down what little it offered and then, on bruised and aching feet, left his room to check on his brother.  He had no idea what time it was but Keith’s room was empty.  He turned as quickly as his body would permit to the stairs.  By the time he made it down to the first floor, he had worked out most of the kinks, and the gnawing pain coming from his empty stomach made him forget about his sore feet.

    
His first thought as he entered the dining hall was to make sure Keith was all right, but an exploding pain interrupted his mission as someone’s fist made contact with his right eye.  Aaron slammed into the wall behind him as a fist, again, came out of nowhere, striking him hard on the jaw.  Several things happened before he could even open his eyes.  He could hear Keith yell out his name, and then a short scuffle as Keith tried to defend his brother.  As his vision slowly cleared and the ringing in his ears subsided, he noted that Tom had stepped in between Keith and Grant.

    
“Come on, Grant,” Tom was yelling.  “Cut him a break.  He doesn’t understand how things work yet.”

     
Aaron tried to stand straight as he looked at Grant.  He could taste blood in his mouth and his right eye was already swelling.

    
Grant took a moment to calm himself before approaching Aaron.