Enemies of a Sort Read online

  Chapter Three –

  As the sun neared the horizon, Flynn and Chadrick set off toward the mines. Flynn left Putty, content to drink himself into a stupor, at Bruce’s bar. He didn’t need his brother’s wallowing to get in the way of figuring out what was truly going on.

  Bruce and the rest of the mining community may have been convinced that everything stemmed from the corporation trying to take over their mom and pop world, but Flynn wasn’t going to take a single brand as objective proof. He needed to get a look at the mines and the damage first hand.

  Explosions, implosions, cave-ins… it was all bound to happen in the course of a normal mining operation. He’d seen someone with a bag of charges near the mine entrance. Sure, they were kept locked up when not in use, but a misplaced focus charge could spell disaster.

  “You didn’t have to come with me, you know.” Flynn said as they stepped out of the elevator basket.

  “I haven’t seen you in a literal age.” Chadrick clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave him an odd side hug. “Besides, I don’t like the idea of you being down here alone.”

  Flynn chose not to argue the point. The mines were empty, a funeral in the small church they’d passed was a clear indicator of why. But Flynn didn’t have time to mourn for those he didn’t know. He’d learned long ago the best way to remember the dead was to keep the living from joining them. He’d failed in that mission on many occasions during the war, but not for lack of trying.

  The rickety lift dropped them down into the shallow mine and they made their way through tunnels lit by flickering green phosphor lamps.

  Beside him, Chadrick shivered and rubbed his arms. “Not exactly what I’d call the perfect place for a romantic stroll.”

  The mine was drafty, wind whistling around them. It echoed through the rocky tunnel, growing louder with each renewed gale. Flynn had met a girl or two who’d think it was perfect.

  “I’m sure it’s not as spooky when it’s full of workers.”

  “Probably not.” Chadrick’s voice was quiet behind him, as though the man was afraid some spirit might be awakened by louder tones.

  Flynn strode down the main shaft, dodging deserted mine carts, taking care to not trip over the twin ridges of the rail system.

  It was clear this part of the mine had been bled dry. Nothing on the rock walls gave a clue to any remaining ore deposits. They were scarred and useless. Now, little more than a means to finding a better source.

  “It’s kinda sad….” Chadrick echoed behind him.

  “It’s the way of the human race.” Flynn reached out to touch a cleft in the arching rock wall. “We take all that’s valuable and leave behind a scarred, desiccated shell. And don’t think I’m getting overly environmentally sentimental on you. We do it to everything. Just look at the slags if you think I’m lying. We even do it to other humans… we do it to ourselves.”

  Flynn shivered at the memory of the slags. Lurching dead men spreading over a battlefield, their limbs run by Colarium processors welded into their skulls. It was unnatural.

  Chadrick was silent behind him. That was one of the things he’d forgotten about Chadrick. The man knew when to shut up. He appreciated that.

  They wound their way through the empty mines for what felt like an eternity. Flynn knew it had only been an hour. Bruce mentioned that the miners had cleaned up…. but this was much more tidy than he’d expected.

  He stooped down, picked up a handful of red dirt and let it fall through his fingers like a sieve. “There’s nothing here for us to find.” Flynn said, standing and turning to leave.

  Just then, a bright light burst in the distance.

  “Shit.”

  The shockwave from the explosion knocked him off his feet and he scrambled to cover his head as the ceiling came down around him in a rocky tumble.