Chapter 12
“I never thought I’d be down here again,” Mark said, looking with disgust at the rock walls of the mine shaft.
“You’re not the only one,” Herman said. “I don’t like enclosed spaces.”
“It’s okay,” Ben said, patting the smaller man on his shoulder. “At least we’re all alive.”
“Yes, alive and slaves in our own town,” Michael grumbled as he swung his pick at the rock wall. “It’s not right.”
“Diane told me yesterday that there’s a plan,” Ethan said as he leaned on his shovel. He was filling buckets with the rocks the others broke free.
“There is?” Mark asked. “Who came up with it?”
“Heather and Lizzy, mostly,” Ethan said. “Although Clary and a few others pitched in too.”
Mark sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow on his shirtsleeve. “Well, it will be interesting then.”
“That’s what Diane said,” Ethan said.
“Hey, one of them is coming,” Thomas said, and the men all bent their backs to their work, saying nothing more.
A large, burly bandit, who answered to the name Froggy for some reason, slowly ambled past. On previous days the bandit had talked to them, making what he clearly thought were witty comments and pushing them around a little. He did none of that this time.
Perhaps he was losing his nerve, or he was so bored with guarding men who never did anything they shouldn’t that he was practically catatonic.
That was the thing about the bandits that Mark had noticed. They were ferocious fighters, excellent at causing trouble, but when it came to guarding, they were terrible.
Being under strict orders not to damage the workforce, they had nothing to hold their attention. It was only El Aguila’s iron will and his handful of loyal enforcers that were keeping this status quo.
Froggy moved out of earshot.
“You know,” Mark said speculatively. “It could work.”
“What?” Michael asked, stopping to wipe sweat from his brow too.
“Heather’s plan,” Mark said.
“But you don’t know what it is,” he protested.
Mark shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It will involve getting the guns and creating a distraction of some kind, I’m sure. If the ladies wait for these bandits to lose their focus and revolt, they might do half the job for us.”
“El Aguila won’t allow that,” Warren said, arriving with empty buckets. “He’ll find something for them to do before that happens. You can bet on it. He’s not stupid. He knows the men he’s got working here.”
“Don’t say that,” Thomas snapped. “I was enjoying the idea of getting out of here.”
“Well, we will be tomorrow,” Ethan said. “We’ll be back on smelter duty.”
“How do you know?” Thomas asked.
“Because El Aguila’s got his buffoons in there now, and they’re going to have an accident because they don’t know what they’re doing. That means he’ll need us up top again to smelt his ore,” Ethan said. “Mark my words. We’ll be on smelter duty in a day or so.”
Warren nodded. “It stands to reason. Also, Mac will know there’s trouble here by now. I’ve been sending him regular updates, and he won’t have had one for more than two weeks now. I was due to send one when we were taken over. He’ll be on his way; I’ll bet you anything.”
“What’s one man going to do?” Michael asked.
“Bring more men,” Warren replied. “Have some faith.” He picked up the full buckets and put them on a hand cart that he began to trundle up the passage.
Mark smiled as he swung his pick at the rock wall again and again and again.
“What are you smiling at?” Thomas asked, frowning.
“Just that I’m sure Alex meant to use Heather, to manipulate her in some way, but here she is coming up with plans to thwart him,” Mark said. “She’s really something.”
“Smile all you like, but we really need to find out what this plan is,” Michael said. “It might be completely impractical.”
Mark nodded. “Sure, but it’s better than nothing.”
The next day they got more information from Ethan.
Anders Cartwright, the hotel owner, had an ailment that necessitated him visiting the clinic almost every day for a checkup.
He was the perfect go-between because, like all the other men, he was sleeping in a tent in the old part of town, even though his day job was to do paperwork in the offices.
He met with Diane or Julie each morning, and each evening met with Ethan.
From there, information could filter and trickle through the ranks.
And as Ethan had predicted, he and Thomas were back in the smelter the day after. However, he had had time to disseminate Heather’s plan, and it had been relayed to Anders.
It was shaky and seemed to be relying on a lot of luck. Mark wished he could sit down with Heather and hash out something safer, but she was doing her best, and he couldn’t fault her for what she had come up with when he himself had thus far contributed nothing to an escape plan.
A couple of days passed, and the men in the mine began to work on their own version of Heather’s plan. It still involved the women getting the guns, but the odds weren’t good. There were three bandits for each Unity citizen.
Lizzy promising explosions was good, but it wouldn’t be enough. Not for the number of bandits that were in the town. Not unless they could all be lured to one place. Mark toyed with that idea for a while, but it didn’t come to anything.
Mostly what he longed for was to see Heather again. To tell her that he really wasn’t angry with her. He knew that there was no way she had known that Uncle Alex was El Aguila. How could she, when he hadn’t mentioned the bandit leader in his letters?
Seeing the man who had caused them so much trouble in the flesh had been a shock. He was a businessman in a suit with a mustache, and that was it. There was nothing special about him, no horns or a tail. He looked like any of a thousand other well-dressed men Mark had seen around San Antonio.
That normal appearance made him an even greater monster and a bigger threat in Mark’s eyes.
At least if the monster had scales and breathed fire, one would know it for what it was.
This sneaky chameleon that looked so normal was far worse because even if they had known what he looked like before, they wouldn’t have seen him coming.
El Aguila was a monster on the inside, and that meant he had to be arrested and made to pay for his many crimes.
But how? Mark spent hours thinking about it until one day, about five days after the invasion, he finally had it.
“We need Mac,” Mark said with a decisive nod as he leaned on the handle of his pick.
“I agree with Warren that our benefactor will know there’s trouble and will either be waiting for some sign to come through, or he’s camped out watching this place already, waiting for a way in.
If we can give him the way in, we could tip the scales. ”
“But how? We can’t get out of town to find him and tell him what’s happening,” Michael said, swinging his pick.
“Unless we can get out,” Mark said, taking his handkerchief and wiping his face. It was stiflingly hot down in the shaft. He truly hated working there.
“What? How?” Michael asked. His face was streaked with dust and dirt like all of them were.
“It’s dangerous,” Mark said, putting his handkerchief away. “But we could do it.”
“Who’s we?” Warren asked.
Mark shrugged. “I meant me.”
Michael chuckled. “Of course, and what would you be doing?”
“Climbing down the cliff face,” Mark said.
“The one that no one can climb down?” Warren asked. “That’s madness.”
“Yes, but that’s why it will work,” Mark said. “Think about it. I could get out, and no one would notice. I’ve kept my head down. You can cover for me, and I can find Mac and talk to him, let him know the situation.”
Michael was silent for a while. Froggy did his rounds, walking past them. Mark was careful to be swinging his pick when Froggy came by, not talking, not looking at the others. Just another man with his back to the bandit, swinging a pick. He doubted that Froggy would even know if he was missing.
When the coast was clear, Michael finally said, “Okay. I don’t have a better plan, so this is it. When will you go?”
“As soon as I can.”
It was dinnertime the day after Mark and Michael made their plan for him to slip out of the town and find Mac. It had been a particularly tough day. Froggy was no longer happy with simply patrolling the tunnels. He had taken to randomly lashing out at the miners, hitting them for no reason.
When they turned to retaliate, he shoved his gun in their faces, yelling, “Give me a reason to pull the trigger!”
Mark hadn’t been one of the men picked on, but Warren had, and he was in a foul mood. In fact, the whole lot of them were grumbling as they took seats around the campfire.
The campfire had once been a symbol of the town’s unity, of their combined drive and desire to eke out a better life for themselves.
They had celebrated marriages, births, victories, and success at the campfire.
They had held feasts and danced the night away in its glow.
Coming back to sit around the blazing logs and talk with friends had been one of the elements that made Unity a wonderful place to live.
But in one move, El Aguila had taken all of that away. He had turned the campfire and the tent town that still stood around it into a prison, and it was starting to weigh the man of Unity down.
“Hey, look who’s bringing us our dinner today,” Thomas said brightly. His eyes were twinkling with delight.
Mark raised his gaze and, to his surprise, saw that Heather and Clary were carrying covered dishes to the wooden table at the far side of the fire. He couldn’t believe it. She looked well. It had only been a few days, but it felt like a lifetime since he last saw her.
When Heather put the dish down and turned, their gazes locked across the flames of the campfire, and Mark’s heart leaped into his throat. He wanted to run to her, wrap his arms around her, and hold her tightly. He ached to be near her, to hear her laugh and see her smile.
“Sit back down!” Pedro roared at him, slamming his rifle butt into the back of Mark’s knee.
Unaware that he had even stood up, Mark was unprepared for the blow. His leg gave out, and he sat down with a thump on the log he was sharing with Thomas.
Luckily, his friend steadied him. Mark turned to look at Pedro angrily.
“What?” Pedro asked. He was clearly baiting Mark, daring him to do something, anything. To give him a reason.
No, Mark couldn’t do that. He had a mission, and he was going to complete it. He dropped his gaze.
He watched as Heather and Clary, both looking livid, left the campfire, a bandit sauntering along behind them. Was it his imagination, or was that bandit ogling them from behind?
The sooner they got rid of these ruffians, the better.
“That’s it,” Pedro said, still smirking. “Keep your head down and be a good boy. Then maybe you’ll survive a little longer.”
He turned and, laughing at his own joke, stalked off.
“I hate him,” Thomas admitted.
“With a passion,” Mark agreed.
“I think I would really enjoy seeing him in manacles and being carted off to Yuma or some other prison where he might never see the light of day again,” Thomas said.
“Yes. Let’s make that happen. Can you help me get some rope?” Mark asked, deciding that enough was enough. He was going to slip out that night, and nothing would stop him.
Thomas frowned. “You know, I think I just might be able to do that.”
Thomas was as good as his word. After dinner the miners were allowed to sit around the fire for a while before being sent to their tents to sleep. During that time, Mark told Michael that he planned to go when the guard was lightest. That was somewhere around midnight.
“Okay,” Michael said. “I’ll come and untie the rope. I’ll let it back down in two days’ time for you to come back and tell us the plan.”
Mark nodded. “Consider it done.”
Thomas disappeared for a while with Tim, who was working in the mines as well. He came back just before Mark was about to turn in.
He had a coil of rope under his shirt, which he hastily transferred to Mark.
“There you go,” he said. “I hope it all works out.”
“Me too,” Mark said. “Take care of Heather for me.”
It was a ridiculous thing to say since they had all been separated, but Thomas promised, nonetheless.
Mark went to his tent. He shared it with Ethan, who was already asleep. Mark fell on his cot and dozed. He was so tired, but he couldn’t let himself sleep too deeply or he wouldn’t be up when the time was right.
It was a night with a waning moon that was past half full.
It would give enough light for him to do this.
At least he hoped that was the case. If not, then he would fall to his death.
He didn’t want to think about that. Instead, he thought of Heather.
She had looked lovely by the fire. He vowed that he would marry her when all of this was over.
The noises in the camp died down entirely, and even the regular stomping and grumbling of the bandits on guard duty faded away. Mark sat up in his bed. Then he stacked some of his clothes under his blankets.
With his coil of rope, he set off, keeping to the shadows, heading up to the ridge. Footsteps behind him stopped him in his tracks.
“It’s me,” Michael said in a hoarse whisper.
“Right,” Mark said.
They continued on together.
They had to cross the mine grounds, which were open and exposed in places. There were guards walking around there too, making sure no one tried to escape. If caught, Michael and Mark would be shot on sight. El Aguila had made that abundantly clear the first day of the occupation.
Mark’s heart was beating twenty miles an hour in his chest, and he thought he might throw up. He had to steady his nerves as he and Michael made their way from the shadow of the smelter across an open patch to the mine office building.
Then from there it was a quick run past the slag heap and up the ridge to the place where Mark planned to climb down. It was the one place where there was no point to having any guards. The climb up without a rope was impossible and pointless.
They made it to the ridge, running crouched, hoping the rocks and boulders would help to hide them.
“Okay, here we go,” Michael said. He tied the rope around a large rock and then took hold of it.
Mark tied the other end like a harness, just as they had back in the days when there was no elevator in the mine. Then he went to the edge. “I’ll be back with help,” he said.
“I know,” Michael said. “Godspeed.”
Mark went to the edge, and that was when they heard the voices coming steadily closer.