Authors: C. Cervi
She stepped back from him then—her jaw set stubbornly, as if daring him to deny what she said was true. Aaron didn’t answer right away—it took a moment for any words to come to him, but when they did, he spoke with the same amount of sincerity as she just had.
“Emily, listen to me,” he said, reaching out, taking her tiny hands in his own. “I promise you, I’ll take you to my home—with the tall trees, and the meadows full of flowers, and the sun turning the water into gold. You have to believe that—you have to believe me. We will get out of here.”
“Well, it’s about time.” Keith’s weak voice wafted over from the doorway.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Aaron demanded, whirling around and heading to his brother’s side.
Keith was managing to stay upright by holding tightly to the doorframe. He had somehow managed to get his pants on, but he hadn’t bothered with the shirt. Emily gasped when she saw the state of his back, and new tears slid from her eyes.
“You shouldn’t be up,” Aaron said, trying to decide from which angle he should come to his brother’s assistance.
“Couldn’t sleep with you two out here gabbing,” he said, then gave a soft cry as Aaron started to help him move. “I heard you tell Emily we’re going to get out of here. That means you’re going to need my help.”
Aaron decided Keith would be better off lying down on one of the cots lining the main room, instead of putting him back on the cold metal table. By the time they were situated, Keith was exhausted and Emily had gone. Aaron laid down on the cot nearest Keith, but kept his eyes open. As much as he longed for sleep, the visions that haunted him when he closed his eyes stopped him from giving in to the desire. He turned over onto his good shoulder, and was immediately rewarded with a jab in his side. Sitting up, he reached for his belt, untied it, and emptied the contents onto the bed. He had a good amount of candle stubs, but they would do him little good once his supply of matches ran out. He, now, only had four left. For some reason, he felt safe in this room, as though for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t being watched. The windows in this room, like all the others, had been boarded up, but more haphazardly than the ones in his room. There were bigger slits in between the boards for the sunlight to shine through. It looked as if one of the boards, in the window nearest him, might have fallen off, and a large patch of sunlight shone across the thin blanket. He slid down off the cot and as quietly as he could, scooted it directly into the bright beam. Settling himself on the bed, he reached for the journal, opening it up to the next entry and, once more, began to read.
Journal entry – 12 June
It’s been weeks since I’ve been able to get away long enough to write. Things have gotten bad. The facilities here are incredible. More like a giant house, bigger than any I’ve ever seen before. I guess G.C.’s been overseeing the building process for years. It’s not the house so much that bothers me though; it’s what’s outside of it. A huge yard, surrounded by canyon walls, there’s only one way out and that’s through the main gate. A few of the prisoners tried to escape the first week. G.C. brought them all back, dead. Those were the lucky ones. The prisoners are being made to work like animals. In the yards, and in the mine—a large black hole carved into the side of mountain. Jesse’s screams are agonizing as they shove him into the dark tunnels every day—his cries echo around my head and I can’t seem to shut them out. The only time prisoners are allowed back inside the house is to eat or sleep. Unless, of course, it’s your turn in the infirmary. That’s one room in the house I swear I’ll never go into.
Aaron’s head jerked as the book smacked the floor. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. He sat up, slowly turning to check on his brother. It looked as if Keith hadn’t moved much, but he was twitching in his sleep, and Aaron could see sweat glistening on his forehead. He scooted off the cot, being careful of his injured ankle, and moved stiffly toward Keith. He reached out to feel his brother’s forehead and Keith shivered as Aaron’s hand made contact with his skin. Aaron tried to ignore the twisting in his stomach—Keith’s forehead was hot—not raging, but much warmer than Aaron would have liked. He limped over to the water bucket and grabbed it, along with the rest of the laudanum and bandages. He gave Keith a tiny dose of the medicine first and then, as gently as he could, began to bathe his body with the cool water. Keith gasped and flinched each time the wet bandages touched him. After a while, Aaron noticed that Keith’s eyes were open and he was watching him.
“Hey there,” Aaron said. “Sorry to wake you.”
“Looks more like I’m the one keeping you awake,” Keith answered in a raspy voice. “You look terrible.”
Aaron ignored the comment as he dipped one of the bandages back into the water, bringing it up to Keith’s lips. Keith sucked it dry three times before he finally settled his gaze on Aaron again.
“Seems like I’ve been getting a lot of your attention lately, older brother.”
In spite of the situation, Aaron found himself chuckling. “You don’t have to go to such lengths to get it, you know? You could just come right out and ask me for it.”
Keith answered him with a small smile then, once again, became serious.
“It’s not your fault.”
Keith’s words hit Aaron like a blow to the gut, and he quickly turned away as all his feelings of tormenting guilt came flooding back.
“Aaron, please look at me,” Keith said. His voice was so weak and soft that Aaron couldn’t refuse. “None of this is your fault. You know that don’t you?”
Aaron didn’t speak, but he gave a slight shake of his head and lowered his eyes.
“I wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for you,” Keith continued. “Stop being so hard on yourself.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Aaron said, taking a deep breath. “You get well, and I’ll see what I can do about not being so hard on myself, deal?”
“Deal.” Keith’s eyes started to droop again, but he still continued to speak. “Did you find the girl? Daniel’s sister.”
“I found a girl,” Aaron replied with a sigh, then hesitated for a moment. “She was dead.”
Aaron looked up to see Keith’s reaction, but his brother had fallen asleep again. He reached out and touched the top of his head the way he’d done so many times in years past. “You just get better, little brother, just get better.”
The light was fading fast outside and Aaron moved back onto his cot. He thought about lighting a candle to read more of the journal, but the cost of a match was too high. Instead, he contented himself to listening to the sounds of his brother’s soft breathing as the room around him turned dark. He didn’t know what the next day held in store for them, but he was determined to get some answers, and he knew exactly where to find them. Even if he had beat Grant into the dust to get them.
C
hapter 17
The next morning came much too early for Aaron. His sleep had been deep and uninterrupted, but he still woke up feeling worse than he had the day before. His shoulder felt as if it were on fire, and he knew that if he wanted it to heal properly, he would have to do something about it right away. The sun was just barely up, and the room was still dark. Making his way slowly to the medicine cabinets, he dug around until he found an empty bowl, then filled it with water from the bucket. Dropping the cleanest of the bandages into the water, he took a deep breath, and slowly began to remove his shirt. The process was much more painful than he had anticipated, and he wasn’t able to raise his injured arm at all. He was sweating profusely by the time he got the shirt off, and he reached for the bandages. The sun had lighted the room considerably and he was able to examine his shoulder.
The entire upper part of his arm was bruised and covered with blood from where his shoulder had torn open, but it was the wound itself that was causing him concern. It was fiery red, and he had several swollen lumps of pus. He turned suddenly at the sound of a low whistle.
“Good night in the morning, Aaron, what did you do?” Keith asked, shuffling over to his brother.
Aaron looked at his arm again and grimaced. “A door got in my way.”
“What door?” Keith asked. “I’ve never seen any locked doors around here.”
“My bedroom door . . . the other night,” Aaron inhaled sharply as he started to wipe some of the blood away.
“Here, let me do that,” Keith said. Aaron watched as his little brother winced slightly, reaching for the bowl full of now red water.
They were both quiet for a while as Keith worked. Aaron had to bite his lip to keep from crying out, and Keith was concentrating hard, trying to be as gentle as possible.
“Those wounds are gonna have to be opened up,” he said, shooting a quick glance at Aaron’s face.
“I know. Just do it quick.”
“Maybe, you better lay down,” Keith suggested.
Aaron hated to admit it, but he knew Keith was right; he was already feeling lightheaded, and the worst part wasn’t even done yet.
The two hobbled over to the nearest bed, and as Aaron lay down, Keith rolled up a corner of the sheet for him to bite down on.
“Ready?” Keith asked.
Aaron nodded his head, his breathing becoming more rapid. He closed his eyes as Keith reached toward the wound with the wet bandages. A moment later, a blinding pain seared through him, white hot light appeared behind his eyelids and then, oblivion.
Aaron woke, suddenly, as cold water splashed onto his face. He sputtered for a few minutes in confusion, until he saw Keith standing above him, holding an empty bucket.
“Guess it’s my turn to apologize for waking you,” Keith said.
Aaron sat up slowly, wiping the water from his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Well, I don’t exactly have a pocket watch, but I would say it’s about time to go down to breakfast.”
Aaron looked at his shoulder and was surprised to see it wrapped in bandages. “You did this yourself?” he asked, turning to Keith.
Keith nodded and held out a hand for support. “I figured it was the least I could do.”
Aaron raised his eyebrows questioningly and, ignoring Keith’s offer of help, stood up slowly.
Keith dropped his eyes. “You were trying to get to me, weren’t you?”
Aaron sighed and tried unsuccessfully to rotate his shoulder. The pain worked to replace the memory of that night. “Let’s just put the past behind us, huh?”
Keith nodded, and the two brothers headed toward the door.
“Aaron,” Keith said, without turning. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Keith.”
As Aaron and Keith entered the dining room, the other prisoners grew quiet, and Aaron paused for a moment to look over their faces—faces that registered shock, wonder and, from some, even awe. Aaron hoped that seeing what he and Keith had been through, and survived, might be enough to inspire some of their fellow prisoners, and the two brothers stood a little straighter as they limped to their table. Once there, though, Aaron looked to Keith in concern.
“Can you sit?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“I’ll manage.”
Keith moved awkwardly, and only just sat on the edge of his seat. Aaron knew he was suffering and, for his sake, tried to eat quickly. Emily didn’t talk much, but from her frequent shy glances, Aaron knew she was happy to have them back. Philip was another matter. He’d hardly so much as glanced up since they arrived, and he sat sullen and quiet throughout the meal. Aaron decided he would try to talk to him that evening before they went to bed, if he could manage it. Before he was even halfway finished, Keith stood shakily.
“I think I’ve had enough,” he said, forcing a smile.
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.”