OZ 2231
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Thank you Eliza for the beta, extraordinary one as usual (and very useful!!). And thanks to Joanne for the song! (Chemical worker's son by great big sea). Very inspiring.
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Chris Keller
The mine is alive and dangerous like a monster crouched deep below the surface, waiting for its next prey. That's what I would've told the rookies, if they'd dared ask me. It's a living animal, always consider it that way, and you'll be safe. Well, as safe as you can be down there at least. Of course they didn't ask. Much too afraid of me, I guess, and I didn't really care, actually. Sometimes, I gave them a little welcome fuck, just for fun. After that, they didn't come near me again.
I worked in the worst place deep inside the second pit of the mine. Level -14, just above hell - well if I died there it wouldn't be too long a trip to my eternal stay and I could've sworn I felt the flames lick my boots sometimes, and the place even haunted my nights, back on Oz. Not many of us agreed to work so deep. It was hot, wet even inside the space suit and my lungs required a special mix of oxygen and other stuff to keep breathing normally. The guys there, on A4, they thought I was crazy but this was probably one of the reasons why they respected me, left me alone, didn't get in my way too much –that and the fear that I could snap their neck if I got pissed off.
The galleries were so narrow I could touch each side of them when I stretched my arms out and I could barely stand up, always working half-bent over the rock, but I enjoyed it, enjoyed the physical struggle. I enjoyed working alone too, I wasn't good at working with other guys, always too slow, too chatty. They just stood there shaking, more frightened than I was, driving me mad. Yeah and besides there were some benefits of course: I worked five hours a day instead of 8 and my working week was shorter. I made more money, too, because the place was more dangerous than any other, but the ore more valuable yet.
Even the trip down there gave me a thrill. I stepped inside the elevator with 300 other guys, free of our helmets for a while yet, breathing real air, joking, laughing, ready for the descent. First level, 25 guys walking out like ducks in the thick space suits. Second level, third, fourth and same thing till the tenth one. After that, it was only 6, 4, 3 at the time who left and the elevator went silent. No more laughs, or voices, jokes, just the silence and a recorded artificial voice reciting "tenth level… safety door opened, airlock pressurized, outside door open… airlock closed, safety door closed…" and so on, until I was the only one there, taking the trip to the place I felt was mine, heart pounding, nerves tingling. The last level was 4 miles under the surface, dark and silent. Moving there was like moving in water, and the space suit didn't help but I'd got used to it.
So deep, the rock was different, darker, the shining veins of ore running in erratic curves through the black stone, drawing strange shining patterns, like an odd painting on a colossal wall. When the day ended, when my brain began to give up, when it became difficult to breathe, the drawings seemed to move in front of me and come to life until I had to close my eyes to stop the illusion. That's where I dug and plunged my tools 5 hours a day, bringing back small iridescent nuggets of the most expensive ore in the universe, for a wage that exceeded my wildest dreams. Maybe I would end up a rich man, after all. And of course, the deeper I went, the purer it was. Holding it in my hands it was like nothing else I knew. It was warm and somewhat… shivering against my skin, like it had a life of its own and the silky surface was so soft that I didn't want to let go of it. Some miners had died because they had become so crazy with it they couldn't wait to be back on top to feel its caress; they'd taken off their gloves, reality slowly fading in their hazy minds at the end of the working day. Some miners loved it so much that they spent all their money to buy some of those precious nuggets and put them on a shelf in their room when they retired. Some tried to steal them, and got themselves fired, that's why we had to go through a thorough shakedown when the day was other. Hey, some even hid the nuggets in their ass. I guess the guys doing the shakedown were having a good time, because snaking your fingers in someone else's ass without asking doesn't happen so often after all.
Anyway the mine was like a woman, you wanted to go deeper, and get some more but unlike the women I'd known, it was never yielding or sweet; the mine's always fighting, making the stuff better still. Yeah, being there, alone, in this wet heat, was like fucking. I didn't think I'd ever get such a kick out of anything else. That's why I would've helped Schillinger or the devil himself to keep the place running, to keep the thing going, to keep my adrenalin level high and my heart beating like crazy most of the time, wondering how deep I could go, and what I'd find there. And that's why despite the official instructions, I'd been digging further, deeper, carefully listening to the continuous whisper coming from far below, probably the center of this weird world, maybe a warning, ready to run back to the emergency elevator if things went really bad.
So, what was wrong that day? What was wrong, why wasn't it quite the same, why couldn't I just concentrate on the job and close my mind to any other thought? Like… like there was some place else I'd rather have been, a place where I could've rested, strong arms locked around me? A place where my body already felt at home, where I got a better thrill than here, a place I'd been longing for since I'd left Oz three days ago and fuck! Just thinking of Beecher was making me hard, and there was something I definitely knew: a space suit wasn't the best place to get hard. No way I could jerk off there, right? So I had to forget about Beecher and go back to my old life, cursing Vern for the glimpse of happiness he'd allowed me to catch: two fucking great nights, with a man who probably hated my guts right now. I sighed. No way I could have him back, I guessed. Too bad, why did I always want people I was obviously unable to keep, people I had nothing to do with?
I was lost in the middle of that when I heard it, a noise coming from very near, maybe 10 yards on the left, and froze. A faint rumbling, sand sliding lazily down a wall, a soothing sound. But I'd heard it once already, long ago, and I wouldn't be caught off guard again so before it got louder, before the danger came too near, before it was too late, I ran as fast as I could towards the elevator, stumbling on the stony ground, punched the emergency button with my fist, once, twice and Christ it was taking so long, I could hear the noise grow in my ears, and the dust began rushing from the far end of the mine, I was pounding the fucking door with my both hands, "Come on, come on! Open up!"… When it finally slid open and the stupid artificial voice warned me that the airlock was fucking unlocked and the safety door was released, I rushed inside, silently praying for the elevator to take me away fast, and just when I felt a slight move upward the first stones crushed against the door, I heard the thunder of the mine falling down, burying the whole gallery. I felt weak suddenly; my legs gave way beneath me and I fell to my knees, shaking with fear because it had just been a matter of seconds this time, and I couldn't be that lucky forever. If I hadn't heard and recognized the sandy murmur, I would never have reached the elevator in time and fuck, I would've been dead by now, my body crushed under tons of stones. And my ex-wife wouldn't have received shit, because I was working too deep and that was against orders, even if I knew that Schillinger and the other supervisors had kept their eyes closed to that. And above all… I took my helmet off, and my gloves, and fuck, why did my hand hurt so much? I listened to the comforting voice telling me through the radio that I was nearly at the surface, and the shrieking sound of the emergency alarm, the continuous crash of the mine crumbling below… Above all, I would never have seen Beecher again, and it struck me suddenly that this would've been the most excruciating thing in my whole life.
When the door eventually opened, I had a blurry vision of people waiting there, shouting and I was lifted, carried until I was lying in a hospital bed.
"What happened?"
I told them what had happened. The doctor examined me as I kept talking.
"I'm OK," I said, trying to push him away.
"No. You're in shock. I'm going to get you shipped back to Oz. You'll rest there until you're able to sleep well at night. And from what I see, from what you just told me," I'd been telling him about every thing, every single detail of the accident, in a shaky voice and I knew the fear was still there, "it could take some weeks."
Weeks! My heart jumped. Weeks on Oz would give me time to make it up to Beecher . Fuck, I'd wanted so badly to leave, put thousands miles between us and now I was longing to see him again, I could feel a stupid grin on my face. Get a grip, Keller! I closed my eyes and leaned back, trying to breathe as deeply as I could, forcing my heartbeat to slow down. My hands burnt; I hadn't felt the heat, but the gloves had melted as I was running and my right hand was badly hurt, as well as my wrist and part of my arm. I began to feel strangely hazy from the painkillers… "It won't last," the doc warned me, "When you're back on Oz, you'll be able to feel the pain again. I'll give you pills…"
"I don't need your fucking pills."
He laughed. "You will need them. Believe me, you will."
I shrugged and closed my eyes and I must have dozed again because I don't remember a single thing about the trip to Oz.
The doctor was right. My hand began hurting like hell as soon as I was back in my room. I closed the door; I didn't want people to come and bother me right now, I wasn't in the mood. I lay on my bed, trying to concentrate on something else than the pain and my heart pounding in my chest; or Beecher's ass, the noise he'd made during sex... Next time I opened my eyes Schillinger was sitting on a chair beside the bed, watching me. I hadn't really been expecting him.
"How do you feel, Chris?" He asked in an almost gentle tone.
I sighed. "I don't know. Better. Alive."
"Yes, thanks to your sharp reflexes, you are. I'm proud of you, boy."
I kept silent, uncertain of what I should say. Boy? That was sudden. And very disquieting, I realized warily, knowing Vern well enough to remember that the father-like tone, whenever he used it, didn't bode well.
"You're a hero," he added. A hero? Fuck.
"I'm no hero, Vern. I didn't save anyone's ass but mine!"
"Who cares? We need someone like you. Glynn," he sighed, "Glynn wants somebody who's not in the Trade Union to attend the discussions."
Oh fuck. Just the kind of thing I hate. I'm quite dumb in such circumstances and I know I can't do any good there. Besides, I don't want to be involved if things turn bad. "No way, Vern."
"Keller, who can talk better than you about the working conditions, who can talk about the danger better than you? No one can speak for the miners better than you!" He probably guessed how unconvincing he sounded, because he added. "And maybe the fact you're there will help us to get along better with that man from Earth, because I tell you, Chris, he's one fucking stubborn bitch!"
" Beecher ?" I had to be sure.
"Yes. Beecher ."
I sighed. Beecher again. After all, maybe I could give it a try, I would just keep my mouth shut as much as I could.
Tobias Beecher
I could feel it. Could feel the tension build slowly, rise day after day. Every meeting between us and "them" as Glynn called the miners was becoming tenser and more hostile, the air thick with unspoken and mutual loathing. Whatever we could offer was not enough, whatever symbolic move we made was turned into derision. What they hated wasn't the company, I realized. It wasn't the mine, they loved it; it wasn't Oz or the deprivations they had to endure there. They hated us. Us, people from Earth. Men from Earth. They hated us, despised us, they would have spat in our faces if Schillinger hadn't been so tough on them. And he was, Christ, he really was. The authority emanating from this man was much more than anything I'd seen before. He made Glynn and McManus look like schoolboys. He was tough, harsh and unyielding and the men on Oz admired him. They feared him and admired him, because he was brutal, dishonest and probably completely crazy but deeply attached to them as well. Maybe he despised most of them as much as he despised us, men from the old decadent world, but they were his to defend and protect. He bared his teeth at me every time I dared talk and so did Glynn, for different reasons, so once or twice I thought of slamming the door of the meeting room and tell them to go fuck themselves. I was exasperated with Glynn and genuinely afraid of Schillinger. But a little voice inside my head kept telling me that I was the one responsible for this mess, so I stayed and endured. On the sixth day we received a message from Devlin telling us that the company had decided to call the private armed forces hired by the company to take over the place. The guys were settled on Mars3, they would be on Oz six days later so if we could just amuse the miners some more, concede some strategic points to soothe the mood and keep the things going, we'd be out of trouble soon.
"It's a very bad idea. They'll know," I told Glynn.
"Why? Are you going to tell them again?" he snarled, and I stiffened, ready to fight... The place was getting to me, I was losing my temper more often that I would've liked.
"This isn't helping." McManus raised a hand, slammed it upon the desk. "Both of you need to call a truce or something because it's really not helping. The way you're constantly fighting is ruining every effort we make to show some solidarity!"
Huh! McManus had balls, after all. Actually he seemed a little stunned at his own outburst but Glynn nodded. "OK. Guess we're a little upset." I noticed he looked tired. "So Beecher ? What do you mean?"
"I don't trust Schillinger. I'm sure he knows a lot about what's going on here," I explained, "he's not stupid. A smart man like him certainly covered every possible angle. If he thinks he's threatened, he will react. Badly. I wouldn't bet a single buck on our lives then."
Glynn looked skeptikal. "These men might not be the kind of guys you would usually hang around with, but they wouldn't take such a risk. Killing one of us? That would be signing their death warrant."
I couldn't believe he was telling that, believe that he was so blind. "Remember what happened 5 years ago on the other mining station? Remember how many men died there? Glynn, that's the same men you're discussing things with now. Same job, same beliefs, same fears…"
He shrugged. "Things have changed. The wages are higher; the working conditions better, the safety standards…"
I cut him short.
"Like Schillinger gives a damn about all that! He's a fanatic, Glynn. He fights for his cause; he doesn't care about people's lives. He'll call that collateral damages, he'll fight dirty if he has to. And if he has to sacrifice his life and become a hero, so be it! He'll do it. Although I'm sure he'll try to sacrifice the others before." I sighed. "I'd be delighted to see those men from Mars3 break in here and set us free, but I'm afraid of what will happen until then. 6 days… That's a long time."
Glynn seemed to think about that for a while, and then nodded. "We'll have to play their game for a while to be sure they don't guess anything. That's what we'll do, and I expect you to play the game as well."
Sure. What else could I do, anyway?
We parted and McManus took me to my room. No more working out, and this time, there was no one to protect me from the hostile looks, the bad jokes and the threats. I wasn't worth it anymore.
"Glynn's wrong," I whispered to McManus, "all this is going to end badly."
"You could ask to go back to Earth, Beecher. I'd say… your job here is done."
I sighed. "Yes, and didn't I fuck up royally? I know I did. That's why I'm still here."
McManus and I stood at the door of my room. He turned to me. "Feel responsible?"
I snorted. "I'd love to say that, McManus but actually, I don't give a damn about what happens there after I'm gone. The real reason is that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to face the company, my folks, my wife and my kids again."
He shook his head. "I understand. When the army guys arrive, though… You'll have to go. I don't think you'd be able to live anywhere else than on Earth. Mars3 and the other colonies are for tough guys."
How nice! McManus had such a sweet way to smack you in the face. I don't think he was even aware of insulting me. "Yeah," I answered, "and I'm such a pansy ass guy, that's what you mean."
He shrugged. "Let's face it, Beecher . You don't belong with these men."
"Like you do!" I felt angry this time so I walked inside and slammed the door.
I couldn't fall asleep that night. I pulled the chair up in front of the window and sat there, watching the stars surrounding us and the planet they called Arcturus4, which looked so small and lost from there. I'd have given anything to be back home without having lived any of this. I'd given my trust to Keller because I'd felt so lonely and how stupid was that? I had been so easy and so naïve and so needy. I hadn't even given him the pleasure of seducing me: I'd pounced on him and surrendered like a college girl. Probably he'd found all this very funny. I was pretty sure that the sex had been good for him too, but what hurt, what really hurt was the way he'd coaxed me into confidence, the way I'd trusted him, told him everything, mesmerized by his caresses, his encouragements, his soothing voice, his kisses. Every time I'd been about to stop on the threshold of some really intimate confidence, he'd pushed me ahead, his voice warm and soft. "C'mon, Toby, you can talk to me. Talk to me, you need it." He was right, I had needed it. Talking to him, listening to his questions, I'd realized how unhappy I was, how lost I was, how much I needed to change things in my life. He's listened to me so attentively… And all that had been done to trap me. Christ, it hurt so bad that I had to get up and pace the little room to release the tension. What had he thought of me? Had he even thought something? After all it was just a job, the guy worked for Schillinger, he probably didn't care much about the consequences. I wondered what Keller had told him about us, about the sex. About my life and the secrets we'd shared. I was sure he had said something because during the meetings, Schillinger had kept his eyes on me with a knowing smile and at the end of the last one, he'd told me I looked tired, and asked me if we should move the meeting to the greenhouse, because he'd been told I was dying to visit the place. The ironic tone of the remark had focused everybody's attention on my reddening face and I'd been sure then that Keller had treated him to our romantic little conversation. Treacherous bastard, I wanted to kill him. The memory made me sick with pain and anger and I threw the chair against the wall, walked to the table in the corner of my room. A miner called O'Reilly who seemed rather friendly had sold me two bottles of what passed for whisky here, giving me a pitiful look. "You'll need it!" he'd said. The price was ridiculous and the man had looked sincerely sorry for me. The alcohol was really strong and sickening but hell, I didn't really mind. All I wanted was feel the fear and the humiliation go away, forget about what I'd have to face during the next days and maybe during my whole life. I was badly drunk when I heard someone knocking on my door. I stood still for a while, watching the door stupidly.
"Beecher, it's Schillinger. Open the door. We need to talk."
"I don't need to talk to you. I've got nothing to say to you." I wished my voice was a little more assured.
I heard a sigh. "I can help, Beecher ," he said almost softly, "open the door. I can make things easier for you." My mind was hazy with alcohol and pain. I felt weary and beaten; I didn't imagine anything worse would happen to me and I desperately needed some help. I opened the door and Schillinger walked inside. He wasn't alone, one of his friends was there, a nearly bald man with a wicked smile.
"Stay out!" he ordered in his harsh tone and the man nodded. Without a word, Schillinger grabbed my arms and I was pushed to the bed, yelling, fighting as much as I could and stripped of my pants, hit square on the chest, so hard that I lost my breath for several seconds as he bent me over the desk, unfastening his own pants. I tried to escape so he hit me again on the jaw and pushed me to the bed. He grabbed my arms, pinned me to the mattress and talked to me in a low menacing voice.
"Ok, so listen, cupcake, this can be painful or extremely painful, depends on you. You fight, I'm gonna make you regret it, I swear. You stay still and you won't be hurt too bad."
So I kept still. I did. Christ, I was so scared, and I couldn't believe that was happening. I was being raped. He thrust mercilessly in me, making me yell into the pillow he'd shoved under my face, I felt the pain, and the disgust, and the fear wash over me, the bitter taste of alcohol and blood and none of the pleasure I'd experienced with Keller. When he was done, he laughed, slapped my ass almost gently. "That's what people from Earth are for. I just loved that, maybe I'll use you again over the next few days… Of course, you won't talk about this to anybody. I wouldn't like that. I could become very angry. Understood?" He pulled me up facing him, grasping my hair, his breath against my face. I saw his cold glare and nodded, shaking with disgust. His smell was making me sick, his touch made me want to vomit.
I heard the door slam and collapsed onto the bed, hoping to die before dawn.
Chris Keller
I'd been drinking a lot, dancing, fucking virtual girls and not-so-virtual men in the bar for half the night, celebrating the simple fact of being still alive. Fuck! I'd been hugged and patted and praised like no time before and that felt suspiciously good. Everybody seemed to consider that I was a hero, as Schillinger had told me earlier and I began to like the whole thing, actually, so I gave in to the partying mood, letting go of the tension and enjoying the night, and when Schillinger joined us, I was flying.
"You were right," he told me, "he's hot and tight."
I fell. I fell suddenly. I was standing here, watching Vern, and this goddamn crazy Robson who follows him everywhere like a bodyguard.
"What?" I asked, shouting over the loud music, my mouth suddenly dry.
" Beecher … I fucked him."
I turned to him, trying to give nothing away, trying to keep my tone as matter of fact as possible. "Why?"
"You seemed to be quite pleased with the guy, so I thought I'd give it a try."
Breathe, Keller, breathe. "Yeah?" I asked. "And so?"
"Well, he fought a bit, but I guess he liked it in the end."
I doubted that. Really, I did. I knew all there was to know about Vern's ways in such circumstances, and quite frankly, I didn't think anyone could take any pleasure in that. I sure hadn't, the memory was still painfully vivid.
"You raped him?" I still asked, watching him nod and smile.
"Hey," I pulled him apart. I was tired and very angry, "you could've asked, Vern. I'm not done with the guy yet."
He looked at me, frowned. "You want him?"
"Yeah, fuck yeah! I really enjoyed fucking him and I'm not sure he's in the right mood for that after what you've done to him!"
Vern laughed, patted my shoulder. "C'mon son… You deserve it, OK?" He said with a laugh. Behind him, I saw Robson's glare on me, hating me for every single word Vern spoke to me.
"He's Vern's now," the guy snarled angrily, "find yourself another toy!"
Vern's other hand landed on Robson's arm. "James, it's OK. I'm not so crazy about that, you know. There will be plenty of opportunities later. Chris was there first, and I got what I wanted, so," he closed his fingers on the back on my neck like he'd have done with a kid or a pet and I hated him for this, too, "so if you want him, take him. I won't interfere. Like I said, I'm proud of you and you deserve it."
I leaned slightly and kissed him on the lips, and he opened his mouth. Fuck, that was disgusting, I could've puked but I felt so exhilarated that I would've done anything and Vern's stunned look when it was over was priceless.
"I owe you, Vern!" I laughed, leaving the place. At the door, I bumped into O'Reilly and his brother.
"Hey, wanna talk to you, K'boy," he said, grabbing my arm.
"Yeah, me too, but not now. I've got something to do."
He watched me with one of his wicked smile. "Guess it has something to do with Beecher , huh? Schillinger had a pretty good time with him. Not sure he'll open his door a second time."
We stared at each other for a short while. "OK, O'Reilly, spill it." He retrieved something in his pocket and handed it out to me. "Door code," he whispers, "so you don't have to break in."
I nod. "What are you up too, O'Reilly?"
"I'm not sure. I'll tell you tomorrow, right. Make sure you're there around 9. Try to get yourself some sleep."
"Vern's enough of a father to me, O'Reilly. Don't push your luck," I growled, but he just laughed. Crazy fearless fool!
I walked up the stairs and ran through the narrow corridors, under the cold white lights, my footsteps echoing all around me, in the roaring silence of the station. I didn't meet anyone, it seemed like the place was deserted and I realized that most of the miners were in the bar, and the staff was locked in their rooms, shaking with fear and the idea made me smile. I would love to get back at Murphy and some others later… They'd learn to know me better, I thought, they'd learn how right they'd been to be afraid of me, and how wrong they were to piss me off like they had been. The thought made me grin, I could taste blood. Using O'Reilly's gift, I opened Beecher 's door and walked in. The office was empty and silent. I crossed the room, noticed that the lights were still on and stepped into the tiny bedroom. Beecher was sitting on the bed, motionless, his face buried in his hands, shoulders hunched. The place raked of sweat and sex and fear, and I could hear Beecher 's ragged breathing.
"Hey!" I called softly, watching him raise his head and rest his eyes on me. Christ, he looked like shit. His jaw was bruised and his eyes red with tears, his lips swollen. When he stood up I saw he'd clenched his fists, I saw his hateful look. I knew what he felt. I knew what he needed.
"So," I said, "I'm off for just three days and you find yourself another guy? You're a slut, Beecher!" I taunted. He didn't give me any time to react, pounced on me, slammed me against the wall, and hit me in the face, once, twice.
"You fucking motherfucker!" he screamed, "I'm going to kill you!"
I felt the pain, tasted blood, pushed him away but he jumped on me again and we fell on the floor between the wall and the bed. I let him beat me as much as he wanted, swallowing my screams, taking as much pain as he wanted to give, fighting a bit so he didn't believe that I was doing it on purpose, and when he stopped, breathless, I managed to ask. "D'ya wanna fuck me, Beecher , d'ya want to shove your dick up my ass? Is that what you need?"
It was a real free-for-all then. He threw me on the bed and I yelled because my hand really hurt, but he just smiled a wicked smile before stripping me of my clothes as I struggled a bit, making it more exciting for him, because that's what he needed right then to take back what Vern had stolen from him, power, pride, so I let him overpower me as much as he wanted to and he wasn't gentle, there wasn't any foreplay and no kissing, just his fingers deep inside me, and me yelling in pain.
"Does it hurt, Keller? Because that's the way it's going to be, so don't expect too much!"
He was right. His thrusts were hard and deep, hurting and his hand on my dick rough and demanding. "Do you like it, Keller?" I didn't answer, I was too busy not screaming so he laughed crazily and went on. I managed to come in his hand, just before he came deep inside me, and had me yelling once more… Christ, when he sagged against me my ass hurt like hell, and so did my hand, but I didn't push him away. Minutes later, I felt him shiver against me and heard his voice, rough and tired.
"Fuck. I'm… I'm sorry, Keller." He stood up and I could turn, lie there on my back, each and every part of my body hurting and sore.
"I… I got carried away." I saw the struggle in his eyes, the anger and the shame, the conflict. He would've kicked me out, but he felt bad for what he'd just done, because it was exactly what Vern had done to him hours ago, or so he thought. How does that feel, Beecher , to be the bad one for once? Nice change, I guessed. He looked so bad that I decided I'd play along some more. I knew the right buttons now. As long as he felt guilty, he wouldn't push me away.
"It's OK, Beecher. I'm OK. I deserved it, I guess," I sighed, taking a look at my wounded hand. He looked at it in horror. I tried to get up and failed, fell back with a painful moan, watching him turn pale. Things were getting better and better.
"I… No, nobody deserves that, Keller. Let me take a look at your hand."
Jesus, he was so easy! He took my hand in his carefully and I heard his breath catch. "You... You've gotta see a doctor, Chris."
Mmmm. Chris again. That was really good. I closed my eyes. "It's all right. I was burnt when the mine collapsed; a stone must have torn up my gloves."
He nodded softly, his eyes on my fingers. "I heard about that. You could've been killed."
Hope was slowly surging inside me. "Were you worried? I didn't think you'd give a damn, I thought you'd be happy if I died."
He gave a sad laugh. "I thought so, too. It would've been a sweet revenge, of course, but I wanted to kill you myself."
I closed my eyes, not to sure what to think, after all. "But you didn't kill me tonight, right?" I asked softly. He shook his head, let go of my hand. "No. I'd dreamed about it, really, I toyed with the idea for days, but I couldn't. I just couldn't."
I didn't move, just brushed my fingers against his naked sweaty arm. He had beautifully muscled arms. He looked thinner and lost, not much left of the tidy man I'd met 2 weeks ago; it was hard not to jump on him and fuck him senseless.
"I love you, Beecher." I whispered and heard him snort. He shoved me away roughly. "Yeah? When did you realize that?" His voice sounded angry but I heard the pain simmering below, "Just after you fucked up my life?"
"I don't know. When the stones were falling behind me, the only thing I could think was that maybe I would never see you again." I sat up with a sigh. Fuck, I felt like I'd been torn up. He kept his wary eyes on me, trying to fight his own feelings. Trying to remember how badly I'd behaved.
"Vern came here, he…"
"I know. That was the first thing the bastard told me."
"He said he'd come back."
"He won't. He won't touch you again, I swear."
He frowned. "How can you be sure?"
I sighed, leaned back on the bed. "I'm the hero, here, Beecher. There's not much they can refuse me. They want me to attend their fucking meetings with Glynn and the others, so I said "Yes, but no one touches Beecher …"
He wasn't as naïve as he seemed, I knew it when he adds, "but you. No one touches me but you. Cocksucker," clenching his fists.
"Yeah, well, they're tough guys, that's the only language they can understand. As long as I play nice with Vern you're safe. As long as you don't do anything stupid, you know, like… Pissing him off."
"I think he'll be pissed off soon enough…"
Tobias Beecher
That's when I realized I was on the verge of telling Keller about Devlin's decision to call in the army to set us free. I shut up just in time but I'm pretty sure that I saw a flicker of recognition behind the tired look in his eyes.
"What am I? Your bitch? Do you own me?" I asked defiantly.
"Maybe that's what they think but we both know better."
"I don't want to be owned by anyone. OK? I'm no one's property. Fuck you! Why did you play this game with me from the beginning? You could have broken in, taken what you wanted and never met me! Never broken my heart…"
Shit. I hadn't wanted to say that, and I expected to see a smug grin but instead of that he nodded and sat down in one fluid motion, like some big cat.
"That's what I wanted to do but when I saw you in the gym, the first time, you looked…" He shook his head. "I knew I had to have you."
I walked away from him and leaned against the door, my mouth dry. I had to ask and I felt stupid. "Did you fake it all? I know I'm not so hot, no matter what you say."
That earned me a dubious look.
"What do you think? What do you think I faked? The sex? I didn't fake the sex. It was great."
"Yeah? But you're the kind of guy who'd have sex with anyone and like it, I guess."
He shrugged. "Maybe," he said thoughtfully "though I never come back for more, at least with a guy. I didn't fake the sex. And I enjoyed listening to you. No one had ever talked to me like that."
I didn't know what I was supposed to believe. "But you told Schillinger," just saying his name was painful, "you told him about the greenhouse."
I could feel myself blush and I hoped that my voice wasn't as shaky as I thought it was, but the way he looked at me, Christ, I could've cried.
"Yeah that was stupid. The greenhouse. Fuck. I've been thinking about it too much. The way we could sit down there," I watched him rise and walk to me, closing the distance between us, "and kiss. Just that…" his mouth was so close, I could feel his breath, and the heat, the desire radiating from him. "Just thinking about that made me hard, Toby." When he kissed me, I didn't resist, the taste of his lips taking away Schillinger's stinky taste. He pulled me to him, held me tight. "I'm sorry, Toby. Do you believe me? I'm so sorry."
His stubbly jaw was rubbing softly against mine as he cradled me against his chest, and then he pushed me away until I was at arms length, throwing me a glance so intense I shivered.
"I think I'll stay here tonight," he said, "make sure no one tries anything against you."
"No way you can touch me then, don't expect that!" I snarled, trying to regain some pride.
He looked at me and nodded again. "I don't expect anything. I think I'm able to share your bed without jumping on you. Or I could sleep on the floor. I'm used to that."
He looked miserable, but I saw the beginning of a grin twitching the corners of his lips. "Don't push your luck, Keller, I'm not that stupid," I tried to sound stern, and not as relieved and amused as I felt, but I really couldn't let the guy sleep on the floor hurt as he was, and after what I'd done to him.
"I'll sleep on the floor," I decided, but before I could make any move he was on me, dragging me bodily onto the bed, keeping me still and looking furious.
"Listen to me, Beecher. You won't fucking sleep on the floor; you don’t have to punish yourself. What happened tonight with Schillinger… It happened to most of us here. Me, and many other guys. Maybe Schillinger, too, long ago, I can't say. It's not your fault. Don't make things harder still. Please. We don’t know what's to come next."
He was right, and I felt my throat ache as he went on. "You didn't deserve it, it's Vern's way of controlling people, frighten them. Shit happens here. New guys here, they get raped more often than you say 'hi'." A sob escaped me, and he hugged me tighter still, whispering against my ear, his heavy body pinning mine to the bed, "You can sleep, Beecher . I won't touch you. I'm too tired and besides, my ass hurts like hell, thanks to you. Don't know how I'll sit down tomorrow." I heard him laugh.
I felt weariness take over, my limbs were heavy and he was warm against me. I nestled my head in the crook of his neck and closed my eyes. It was hot and comforting, I could feel his chest rising softly, his heartbeat slow down and I fell asleep faster than I used to. I woke up for a short while when he got up and told me he was leaving, and sleep swallowed me again.
Chris Keller
I left early, Beecher was still asleep, his arms around my neck, his breath hot against my skin. Fuck, I'd nearly lost this, nearly missed the occasion to make it up to him. I wasn't sure that he'd believed me, not sure that he trusted me but at least, he'd let me stay. I took a shower, dressed and met O'Reilly in the bar at 8:30 . He gave me a smile.
"Hey, K'boy? So… How does it feel to be a hero?"
"Yeah, forget it O'Reilly." I sat in front of him, ordered a drink. I was exhausted, my body hurt everywhere and my mind was hazy. I saw O'Reilly raise a mocking eyebrow. "A hissy-fit with a wild cat? Or did you piss your girlfriend off?"
I shrugged. " Beecher 's not my girlfriend. What do you want, O'Reilly?"
He watched me some more, his acute gaze trailing on my bruised jaw and the marks on my neck.
"Glynn said he would be happy to fire you. Just after the miners and the company have come to an agreement. He said you were digging far too deep and that you knew what you were doing. That you deliberately chose to ignore the rules."
"He wouldn't fire me. He wouldn't dare, not after what happened," I growled and O'Reilly shifted uneasily.
"Yeah, K'boy, probably not right now but think… In two or three months when all this comes to an end… He would be too happy to get rid of you."
Fired. 17 years there risking my neck for the company and now fired because I'd been too daring? Fired, that meant sent back to Mars3 and how could I be sure that the cops wouldn't convict me again, throw my ass back in prison? Fuck. Fuck the company, fuck Glynn.
"How do you know?"
"I know it, that's all, K'boy. I may not fuck half the guys up there, but I definitely have some interesting friends. Good friends. Well, they don't like you much, but you were willing to help, the other day, so…"
"Cut it out, O'Reilly. Is there anything else?"
"The other thing is…" O'Reilly had this smile again and I was not in the mood to play his game, not now.
"Spill it, O'Reilly!" I growled and he laughed. "Yeah, I will, K'boy," suddenly his face was deadly serious. "The other thing is that a friend on Mars3 sent me a message. Armed forces there, they left their barracks two days ago. 3000 of them. Could be heading for Oz."
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes. "You do have interesting friends, O'Reilly!" I stretched. "Does Schillinger know?"
"Not yet. Not about that. He knows about you though, and let me tell you in an hour's time, all the guys here they'll know too. He's gonna use you, K'boy, use you and set the whole place against Glynn and then," he leaned over the table and whispered, "we'll have one nice bloody riot here."
The word froze me. A riot. Christ, I should've guessed. Schillinger didn't want to negotiate, he didn't give a fuck about that, he was just waiting for the right thing to happen, the thing that would give him the opportunity to light his fire, start his fucking revolution.
"So? What do you expect me to do?"
"Nothing. Really. I don't wanna be involved in a riot and I have my bro' to look after, so, no way I'm part of this shit. I don't wanna be caught in a slaughter here and that's what we'll have in both cases anyway, so I made up my mind. I'll back Schillinger up. It will give us a chance to live. Because if the guys from Mars3 turn up here, they'll get rid of as many of us as possible. Death is a good way to shut us up."
"But if there's a riot, we don't know what will happen then." I was thinking about Beecher . Too late to make him leave now. Much too late, fuck, I'd been stupid, believing I'd have some control over the whole situation.
"Yeah, how exciting, huh? Look, I think we can help Schillinger as long as our lives aren't at stake. Then, we'll change sides if we need to."
"We'll change sides if we're still able to, O'Reilly. It's fucking dangerous."
He laughed and shrugged, "yeah, and what about you? If you don't get killed, you'll be shifted back to Mars3. If I were you, K'boy, I'd pray for a quick miracle."
I didn't believe in miracles, not at the moment, I'd gotten one just two days ago, so… I went to Schillinger to hear him tell me that the situation was really bad. We talked for a while and my anger flared suddenly. I remembered O'Reilly's warning about Schillinger manipulating me but really I wanted to meet Glynn, I wanted to face him and hear him tell me I was fired, and then kill him. In the end I felt so tired and upset that I thought I could use a little fix, just to relax, you know, feel better and that of course was a stupid idea.
Tobias Beecher
A growing rumour said that Glynn will have Chris Keller fired. I didn't know who initiated the rumour, or I knew it too well. It was stupid, Glynn had never thought about it. Maybe wished it, but not decided anything that dangerous and certainly not now. It looked like a pretty good set up and looking at Keller's expression as he was facing Glynn in the meeting room, his fists clenched in his pockets, his eyes cold as death I knew that Schillinger had already won the psychological war, and I was afraid the guys who were supposed to free us wouldn't show soon enough.
Looking at the faces of the men gathering outside the door, more and more of them, listening to their angry voices, noticing Schillinger's satisfied grin as he watched Keller walk willingly into the trap which would seal our fate, noticing Glynn's nervousness, I knew we were fucked and thought that maybe I'd never see my kids again. So I walked to them through the hostile crowd and grabbed Keller's arm. "Schillinger's lying! Nobody's going to fire you." I whispered. He seemed to remember me and his look softened a little, but he pushed me away. "Don't, Beecher , stay out of this shit."
"Please, Keller, listen…"
"I told you to stay the fuck away!" This time his hand was a bit rougher as he brushed me off and I stumbled against another guy's chest… "Hey," the man growled grabbing my arms, "I'll keep an eye on the bitch while you have your little discussion with Glynn."
I saw Keller's glassy look, the manic twitch of his lips, the madness on his face and I was facing a stranger, not the man who'd spent the night spooned around me, trying to soothe my pain. I wanted to try and intervene again but it was too late. Two guys from the safety team tried to drag Keller back, and all I saw then was the shank in his hand, a flicker of light on the silvery blade, a fast move, blood spurting, one of the men fell on the floor, throat cut open and I heard Keller's roar of triumph as all hell broke loose around me. I should have run away but Glynn was hurt too so I tried to drag him away, find a shelter but then I was caught in the middle of the brawl, fighting back wildly until the moment I just closed my eyes and expected to die as blows fell on me and after a moment I was dragged away.
TBC...