Chapter 106
Darkness.
Complete darkness.
Turner wasn't sure if his eyes were open or closed.
For a long moment, he heard nothing except the pounding inside his own head.
Am I... dead?
A sharp pain exploded through his ribs.
He sucked in a ragged breath.
No.
Dead men didn't hurt this much.
Slowly, painfully, he forced his eyes open.
Nothing changed.
The darkness remained absolute.
Somewhere nearby...Water dripped steadily from the ceiling.
His fingers brushed against cold stone.
Broken timber.
Loose gravel.
Then—
"...Captain?"
The voice was barely a whisper..Weak...Uncertain.
Turner turned toward the sound.
"I'm here."
Silence.
Then another voice broke into quiet sobs.
"I thought..."
"I thought you were dead."
A weak chuckle escaped Turner's lips.
"So did I."
Several nervous laughs echoed through the darkness.
For just a moment...
The fear eased.
Turner slowly pushed himself upright.
The movement sent agony tearing through his side.
His vision blurred.
Don't let them see.
He steadied himself against the wall before picking up the fallen lantern beside him.
The glass had shattered. The flame was gone.
Only darkness remained.
"Can anyone move?" he called quietly.
One voice answered, "I can."
Another, "My leg hurts..."
Then another, "I'm trapped."
One by one...
The survivors spoke.
Turner counted each voice carefully.
Nine.
Nine men.
Including himself.
"Good."
His voice remained calm, "If you're talking......you're still fighting."
A shaky laugh echoed somewhere to his left.
"You make it sound easy, Captain."
"It isn't."
Turner smiled despite the pain.
"But we're still here."
"And that means we're not finished yet."
A miner suddenly whispered, "...Captain?"
"Yes?"
"...Are they coming?"
The question hung heavily in the darkness.
Every man waited.
Turner didn't hesitate, "They're already looking."
He knew Owen.
He knew Brian.
He knew Aurora.
They would never stop. Not while even one man remained alive.
"I promise you..."
"They'll come."
Slowly...
Turner began checking every injured miner.
One had a broken arm.
Another had several cracked ribs.
One man's shoulder had been crushed beneath falling rock.
Turner carefully tore strips from his own cloak.
"We'll make splints. We'll stop the bleeding. We conserve our strength."
A young miner sat quietly against the wall.
His hands trembled.
Clutched tightly against his chest was a tiny bundle of cloth.
Turner knelt beside him, "What are you holding?"
The young man looked down, "My son's blanket."
His voice cracked.
"My wife......gave birth eight days ago."
The darkness couldn't hide the tears running down his face.
"I haven't even held him."
The words shattered the silence.
Several miners quietly lowered their heads.
Turner smiled gently.
"What's his name?"
"...Thomas."
A warmth settled in Turner's chest.
"Thomas."
He nodded.
"That's a strong name."
The young father laughed weakly through his tears.
"I promised my wife I'd be home before sunset."
His shoulders shook.
"What if...What if he never knows me?"
Turner reached out and gripped his shoulder firmly.
"He will."
The young man looked up.
Turner's voice never wavered.
"You're going to hold your son. You're going to watch him take his first steps. You're going to teach him to fish. And one day.....you're going to embarrass him in front of the girl he likes."
Several miners laughed.
Even the young father managed a smile.
"I'd like that."
"So would I."
A few feet away, another miner quietly wiped his eyes.
Turner noticed, "What about you?"
The older man hesitated, "My daughter."
Turner waited patiently.
"She started school this year."
A smile appeared despite the tears.
"The first thing she learned to write..."
He swallowed hard, "...was my name."
His voice broke, "She came running home...Waving that little piece of paper. Saying...Look, Papa!....I wrote your name!'"
He covered his face, "I've never been so proud."
Silence settled over the group.
Turner felt something tighten painfully inside his chest.
"What's her name?"
"...Emily."
Turner smiled.
"Then you're going to see Emily write your name again."
The miner looked at him.
"And next time...You'll frame it."
A quiet laugh spread through the darkness.
Someone muttered,
"That's exactly what my wife would make me do."
Another added, "Mine already frames everything."
Laughter echoed softly through the tunnel.
Tiny.
Fragile.
But real.
For a brief moment...
The mine no longer felt quite so terrifying.
Turner slowly stood.
The movement nearly made him collapse.
A sharp pain ripped through his side.
Warm liquid trickled beneath his shirt.
He discreetly pressed a hand against his ribs.
When he pulled it away...His fingers were wet. Blood. Quite a lot of it.
He quietly wiped his hand against the inside of his cloak before anyone noticed.
Not now.
They need hope.
Not another burden. He straightened his back.
Ignoring the dizziness threatening to pull him back to the ground.
An elderly miner watched him carefully.
"Captain..."
Turner smiled, "Yes?"
"You should sit down."
"I'm fine."
The old man wasn't convinced.
"You look pale."
"I've always been handsome."
A groan spread through the group.
"He's definitely still alive."
"I wish the rocks had knocked his jokes out of him."
Turner laughed, "So do I."
The laughter slowly faded.
Then...
The elderly miner spoke again, "I've worked these mines for forty-two years."
Turner looked at him, "Forty-two?"
The man nodded, "I know every tunnel...Every chamber...Every old passage."
His eyes slowly widened, "...Wait."
Turner immediately noticed the change.
"What is it?"
The old miner frowned thoughtfully.
"There used to be another ventilation shaft."
The surrounding men looked up.
Turner's heartbeat quickened.
"Where?"
"It hasn't been used in years. We sealed it after one section became unstable."
Another miner suddenly nodded, "I remember. It was before my apprenticeship."
"If it hasn't completely collapsed...It might still exist."
Hope.
Real hope.
Turner immediately knelt beside the old miner.
"Show me."
The old man slowly pointed into the darkness.
"It's beyond the old storage chamber. If we can reach it..."
He paused, "...we might find another way out."
Turner's eyes hardened with determination, "Then we're going."
He looked around at the exhausted men.
"We're getting every father......every husband......every son......back home."
No one questioned him.
No one hesitated.
Because somehow...
Even buried beneath thousands of tons of stone...
Captain Turner still made them believe.
And sometimes...
Hope was stronger than fear.
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