#tolley

Gabe is finishing his rounds of handing out new necessities, and Dexter is trying to adjust his breastplate to fit properly, as well as adjust to the feel of heavy metal weighing on his shoulders, waist, and head. His new sword is strapped to his right, his pickaxe to his left, and his pack to his back. His nerves are now sky high in tension as the crew prepares to go in. There are only twenty of them by his count, and twenty seems to him a small force compared to the monsters that are growing ever stronger and nightmarish in his imagination.

But he does not have much time to let them grow further, as the mine entrance is opened from the inside and the previous shift’s workers pour out, all weary-looking and making a beeline for the eatery. It does not take long for them to clear out, having around the same number of workers as Dexter’s shift. Tolley stands in front of the group and clears her throat.

“I wish you all a safe trip; watch each other’s backs and be prepared for anything. We’re all counting on you. Good luck.”

And with that she steps aside, and the small crowd heads in, pulling Dexter right along with it. There is at least a small comfort to him in this, and that is that he is at the back of the group and therefore feels more protected. Little does he know that it does not matter at this moment whether he is at the front or the back, as right inside the foreboding entrance is a small and somewhat cramped room full of chests, one for each miner, and one door that is the actual entrance to the mines. The regulars all go to theirs and pull out their old trusty helmets and pickaxes that have been newly enchanted by the resident pair of spellcasting siblings. Dexter follows Matthew over to his chest, as the other new recruits follow their respective partners, all nervous and quite unsure of what to do.

A stifling silence sits over the crew as they prepare.

Nobody looks at anybody else as they all take their time. Nobody wants to go out. Nobody wants to face the dangers that lay on the other side of that plain wooden door.

But eventually, one pair steps up and opens it, and as if a lever is suddenly flipped, they all stream through it into a rather tight passage. After only fifteen feet in, half of the group branches off into a huge ravine. Dexter only gets a passing glance at it, as Matthew keeps to the tunnel, but he wishes he could have gone there as well. A massively tall ceiling, stone paths lining the walls every few feet upwards, small waterfalls cascading down into pools scattered across the bottom, and torches that light up every inch for all to see. It is beautiful, and he has never seen anything like it. But he has to settle for disappointment because, as stated earlier, he has to pass right by it and stay in the gloomy, dimly lit tunnel that seems more dangerous and deadly than the beautiful and welcoming cavern.

They travel like this for what feels like an eternity, pairs branching off occasionally until it is just the two of them left. Dexter finds himself glancing behind him quite often as he follows Matthew, anxious about the so far unseen danger that could be around any corner.

“Here we go.” His thoughts are interrupted by Matthew’s statement, and he looks back in front of him to find another branch from the path. Matthew gestures towards it and steps into it. Dexter follows. “It’ll still be a bit before we get to anything that hasn’t been touched yet. Jus’… keep a lookout.” A short nod from the other is the only response he gets.

Even more time passes as they trod on through already-lit caves. Dexter is silent, nerves continuing to build even though he tells himself that it is a good thing that they haven’t run into anything yet, and that nothing has run into them. Finally, after another age has come and gone, he sees darkness ahead. Matthew pulls out torches and turns to him, strained smile on his face.

“Let’s see how well you can swing a pickaxe, huh?”

And they head in.

Darkness flees as Matthew puts up a torch and light floods the mine. A faint clattering sounds in the distance. Dexter swallows nervously.

“Well, we’re right lucky, aren’t we? There’s some iron right here.” Dexter manages to tear his eyes away from the terrifying void and looks to the wall that Matthew is pointing at. “Alright, don’t you worry, I’m keepin’ my eyes on the hall. You just focus on swingin’ that axe.” He steps up to the wall and Matthew instructs him on how to hold it properly and where to swing and what to look for, all while giving frequent glances to the empty dark to their left. He helps Dexter with the first few swings, then steps back to let him try it by himself, and is startled by an arrow whizzing just barely in front of his face. Looking over again, he sees one of the horrors, one that uses a bow and arrows, and draws his sword. Dexter turns to look as the sword was not quiet in being drawn, and his eyes widen upon seeing the creature.

A full human skeleton lumbers just in reach of the light, bow at the ready. Its bones are not clean and white- they are covered in dirt and rot, almost as if it had just been dug up from its grave where it should still be. Matthew grunts and complains, “These are some of the worst,” a statement that Dexter completely misses as he freezes entirely.

Matthew steels himself and charges, sidestepping as another arrow shoots by, and swings. He scores a hit, and receives a blow himself as the skeleton swings the bow itself at him and hits the side of his face. He recovers quickly, though, and is able to get in two more swings, knocking the creature down, before beheading it. It gives no sound as it falls still and disintegrates, bow and all. Panting, partially from tiredness and partially from adrenaline, he turns back to Dexter.

“Toldja I got your back.” He nods at the wall. “Get the rest of that vein. If you need help, I’ll help you. We’ll be alright.” He then turns and puts another torch on the wall, lighting up another portion of the cave. Dexter, shaken, sloppily resumes his task. Once the vein is depleted, the pair continue on.

I would recite to you their conversations, but they do not have any, so I cannot. I can, however, tell you that after Dexter fills his pack a little more, they run into another abomination, one that is in fact the same kind that Ken encountered on his trip to the underground community. A horrifying defiance of nature, it is a corpse with half-rotted flesh that seems to barely cling to its bones, dyed a pale, sickening green color. Its eyes are unseeing, one of them whitened entirely, and its few strands of hair left are plastered to the sides of its head. Matthew is able to dispose of it, much to Dexter’s relief, and the latter promptly throws up after the event.

They later run into a third type that scares Dexter more than disgusts him. It moves silently until Matthew approaches it, when it suddenly begins hissing very loudly and its body flashes a bright white at a rate that increases rapidly. However, it is killed before it does anything else, and Matthew makes no attempt to hide his relief. Dexter is afraid to ask what made the relief so prevalent.

Hours pass in this manner- Dexter slowly fills their packs while Matthew protects, and both are exhausted by the time that Matthew announces that they need to turn back.

It is a long, long trip. And it is silent. The only sounds heard are clanks of metals, the small thuds of footfalls, and the heavy breathing of the two tired men. At one point Dexter stumbles, and Matthew offers to carry his pack for him. He refuses the offer, and then a few minutes later, accepts it. It is a heavy pack, and Dexter is not used to carrying such burdens. Given time, he will grow stronger and be able to, but for now, he is still scrawny and still weaker than what he needs to be. They reach the long, narrow, dimly lit hallway again, and Matthew attempts conversation.

“So that’s your first trip in the mines.” Dexter stands back to let Matthew enter the hall first, and the older shakes his head and ushers Dexter in first. “We haven’t run into any in here yet, an’ I don’t wanna risk anything sneakin’ up on you behind me from where we came from.” Dexter can’t argue with that.

“…Is it like… that every time you go mining, or did I just… get unlucky?”

“Every time,” is the response that sounds behind him.

“Great,” Dexter says, and then again, quieter and to himself, “…Great.”

37

Mines it was.

I don’t even wanna think about what we ran into down there. “Monsters” really is the only right term for those things. How’re we supposed to get enough metal for everybody to use? I know Gabe ran out completely just making the stuff for us to use. The new helmets and chestplates and whatever. So we’re supposed to get enough to keep those stocked for us, and for the people aboveground, and while only ten out of the twenty miners on each shift are actually mining.

This is it, this is my lot in life, and this is probably how I’m going to die. One of those monsters is gonna kill me, I just know it. I don’t know how I managed to sleep at all last night after that, or have actual rest instead of nightmares. Maybe it was just how exhausted I was.

Man. My arms are sore today. My back too. And I get to go back to the mines tonight. Wheeeeee.

38

This sucks.

This absolutely sucks.

I’m down there, terrified for my life, filling up my backpack whatever with all this stuff that only weighs me down and makes it harder for me to run away if things go wrong, and I already had sore arms and a sore back and I don’t feel rested at all. I can’t go back to sleep because all I can think about now is those… zombie things, groaning and screeching and making all those NASTY noises and… what if. What if Matt misses one or something? That’ll be it, because I have to focus on getting those stupid ores out of the wall and I can’t even do it right half the time and I’ll be distracted and I won’t notice until it’s too late and

…It doesn’t help that even when I get out, I can’t feel relieved, because I know I’m gonna have to go back the next day.

...

This sucks.

43

We haven’t lost anyone yet since Logan. So I guess Captain Tolley’s strategy’s working. There’s something to be thankful for. I guess.

Y’know, Matt said a few days back when I first started that the skeletons were the worst. He was wrong. They’re not. Not by a long shot. Like yeah their arrows can catch you off guard if you don’t hear their bones rattling first, but at least they don’t friggin blow up in your face outta nowhere. I lost at least half of my load today because one of those things surprised me and Matt.

I’ve been hit and knocked around way too many times over the past few days. I mean I guess it hasn’t really happened that much, but even a couple times is a couple times too many.

I’m exhausted.

I would assume that by now you have inferred from the progression of journal entries by our dear friend Dexter that time is passing. But as time passes, something begins to happen. As is apt in humans upon having to learn a new thing, adaption occurs. Muscles build and endurance begins to grow, and that is what is happening to our young protagonist. It does not change how much he hates his task, but he is nonetheless adapting. Other than that, nothing much else happens that is of much importance. He has yet to take a turn into the ravine he spotted on his first day, and it is a constant disappointment, but one that is losing its edge slowly. There are a few incidents of interest, but they are not important.

I will tell you what they are anyway.

One is the first time that he fights an enemy, purely interesting because of what it is. It begins with Matthew mining alongside Dexter- they are in a well-lit area and do not expect any resistance. And yet they are met with it, in the form of an arrow that strikes Matthew in the back. Fortunately, it simply bounces off of his armor, and it calls their attention. In his tiredness of the whole situation that he is in, Dexter rushes forward without much thought towards the darkness that the arrow had come from. Halfway there, he realizes just what he is doing and falters, causing him to almost be hit himself. By now he has come too close to turn back, so he closes the gap between the skeleton and himself and swings his sword at the foe he can barely see, surprisingly satisfied to feel it make contact and push the enemy back. It makes the mistake of attempting to back away to fire again. This gives him enough time to attack twice more, and it is enough to finish it off. He stands there for a few seconds, stunned, before remembering to put a torch on the wall. Light pours into the area he is in, and he turns back to look at Matthew. The older man gives him a tired smile and a thumbs-up, as well as congratulatory remarks, and the younger man nods and returns to his task.

The second is his first time encountering magma. Which he does not actually manage to do, because once Matthew realizes how quickly the temperature in their section of the mine was growing, he decides that it is safer to turn around and find another spot to search for ores and materials. Dexter wonders what the cause of the heat is, but does not question Matthew. Neither want to talk and risk drawing unwanted attention to themselves. He does, however, note to ask about it once they leave.

He has forgotten about it by the time they exit the mines, and it leads to the third.

Never before has Dexter ever envisioned himself as one of the dead-eyed and somber men that began to replace the boisterous and rowdy crowd at the eatery, and yet he has become one nonetheless.

It has been only two weeks now, and he wonders how much longer he will have to be a miner. His mind pulls back the memory of considering the options, when he had turned his nose up at a ‘boring job’ such as helping Cass, and realizes he now wishes he had been lucky enough to receive that opportunity instead. Boring, he has since learned, is much better than life-threatening.

Once he finishes eating, he pushes himself up, gives a mumble of a goodnight to Matthew, who gives one in return, and heads up to the lodgings.

His feet pause as he begins to pass Ken’s room. The lad has been healing up wonderfully well, and the two talk together almost every other night. Dexter is tired, and wants to sleep, but he decides he wants to spend time to forget about things first. He knocks on the door.

“Clark?” comes a question from inside.

“Dex,” is the answer given.

“Oh, ok- c’mon in.”

He swings the door open and steps inside, putting on a grin. His weariness shows through it anyways, and Ken picks up on it. The younger sits up in his spot on the trunk, putting down his drawing pad and giving the older more attention as he takes note of the expression.

“You ok?”

Dexter’s grin drops slightly now that his cover is blown. He shrugs amicably, despite the exhaustion, and takes a seat on the trunk next to his newfound friend.

“It’s… the whole mining thing. Monsters and fighting for survival and all’a that, it’s…” He sighs. “Sometimes, it still doesn’t feel real. But at the same time, it’s too real. And it’s-” Here, he hesitates. “…Terrifying.”

Ken nods, mimicking Dexter’s somber face. “It is.” Dexter realizes that he had forgotten where Ken came from. Ken was the one that had passed the message on about the monsters, after all. He had had to deal with them on the surface, too.

“Hey, is it… Are you ok? You’ve been down here for two weeks, really- confined and everything, that’s… gotta be hard.” There had been a trade each week so far, which was far more often than the usual once per season. Protection in the form of armors had been exchanged for nothing, those underground recognizing that their survival depended on the survival of those from the surface. The hope to live longer was payment enough, and will continue to be so until the two communities learn to live with the new threat.

“It’s… frustrating, not gonna lie,” Ken admits. “But Anna and Clark’ve said that I’m making good progress, and when we have the next trade tomorrow, I might be able to go back up to the surface.” Dexter’s breath halts for a moment as reality reminds him that it still exists. With the twins’ help, Ken has been healing up much faster than he would have with no potions and no spells, and he is getting well enough he could likely climb the ladder now with assistance.

The young adult had not realized until now how much he appreciates having a friend closer to his own age.

“Are you… gonna be coming to visit in future trades?” he asks, not liking the shake that betrays his disappointment.

Ken takes it in stride, even giving a small smile. “I’m gonna try to, at least. I mean, it was my job to help out with those, so… It better still be my job when I get back.” Dexter’s shoulders relax a little at that- he had not realized that they had tensed at all.

“So I’ll still see you around.”

“Of course!”

Dexter leans around the other and looks down at the pad sitting on the other side of him. “What’re you drawing?”

“Oh,” Ken begins, turning and taking hold of the sketch pad, “Just trying to get better at drawing people.” He opens it to where it had just been open prior. “So I’ve been sneaking down whenever Captain Tolley isn’t around and Clark and Anna are busy and I people-watch.” On the page is Layla and Leonard, as well as other miners and workers. A couple children are scattered on the page as well, evidence of those that had managed to run off from their caretakers. “And I’ve been drawing the people I’ve seen.”

Dexter looks over the drawings in slight awe. He was never one for the creatives, and any others who are always gain his respect. “Dang, those are… those are super good, Ken.”

The complimented shows a sheepish grin as he shrugs, unsure whether to go ahead and pull the sketch pad away or to let Dexter look at it longer. “Thanks. I… had a lotta time on my hands, so… I picked drawing back up. It’s a lotta fun. I enjoy it, used to do it a lot and I just kinda... stopped for some reason.” He decides to let Dexter look through it, after taking personal inventory mentally and remembering that there is nothing he deems embarrassing in it. His arm extends, pushing the pad towards his friend, who blinks and asks if he is sure. Upon receiving a nod, Dexter takes it and starts looking through it from the beginning.