Scorched

by Britt Ringel

  “Nobody’s gonna touch you, Kitten,” he slurred from his nest. “Rat’ll protect you.”

  Kat lay awake for the rest of the night, her hunting knife remaining at her side. When the early risers of Shantytown began to stir, she rose with them and went through her morning ritual. The reservoir held water again. Rat had replenished it with a trip to a well. He welcomed Kat to use the comparatively fresh water as long as she provided the next bucketful. After she washed her face and filled her warped plastic bottle, she hid the knife once more and checked that the other rats in the alley had not stolen her breakfast during the night. In the gloom of predawn, she chewed stringy pieces of meat as she trudged down littered streets toward her second day of work.

  The scene at Eastpoint was barely restrained chaos. Several hundred people had gathered near the gate, waiting for the promised Tuesday posting about who Porter Mining had hired. Kat kept her eyes locked forward as she waited in the line to enter the settlement, ignoring the masses asking every miner if they knew anything about the job openings. She worried that the mixture of hope and desperation would turn to violence when they were handed disappointment. Waytown corp-sec must have had the same fears, Kat noted. She counted six armed security officers posted on the tops of the walls and two security aircars drifting lazily overhead.

  Once through the entrance to Waytown, her commute seemed faster than the first day. Kat attributed this to simply knowing what the future held. The bus ride was uncomfortable but the mag-rail was as equally splendid as her two trips yesterday. Riding the train was rapidly becoming a favorite part of her day. During those moments, traveling impossibly fast, she was truly free. No one could ever hope to catch her.

  These train rides and my talks with Sadler, she thought to herself with a faint smile. Dryman work was certainly brutal and her body was sore in half a dozen places but the aching was nothing compared to the pounding in her chest and the twisting of her stomach whenever he was around. I’m almost twenty-five, she told herself, but for all practical purposes, I’m experiencing my first crush. She wondered about her lost past. Was there someone special in my life? Might he be searching for me now? She let herself reach into her soul for any lost feelings. As usual, her history was a black void.

  The day shift disembarked from the train and shambled to the trailers even as the miners from the night shift rose from the tables at the courtyard to go home. As Kat approached her trailer, she saw Sadler and Lambert standing toe to toe. Lambert was pounding his finger into Sadler’s chest to punctuate his rant.

  “The entire transmission burned out because it got tangled in a cable that your employee missed!” His anger carried over the entire courtyard. Both the night shift and day shift were following the confrontation.

  “Just what the hell did that lazy bitch do all afternoon?” Lambert thundered.

  Kat’s hand went up to her mouth as she blushed furiously. Oh my God, he’s talking about me!

  “If I find out she was peddling herself in some hideaway like a desperate tramp,” the foreman shouted, “you’ll both be out on your asses.” He jabbed fiercely again at Sadler’s chest. “Your name is all over her application and it’s your judgment that’ll be called into question when miners come forward and admit that she’s selling herself to them.”

  Kat was already in motion. She had crossed the courtyard before she was even aware that she had moved. Her eyes remained fixed on the raving man who only realized she was present when she was but a step away.

  Her open palm struck the foreman’s face with a slap that echoed off the trailers. A collective gasp came from the gaping workers. Stunned, Lambert raised a hand to the imprint covering his cheek. He began to splutter but before the man could gain traction, Kat turned to face the crowd.

  Her dark eyes flashed and her voice carried across the compound. “Have I propositioned anyone here? Anyone!” she hollered while glaring defiantly at her coworkers. “Raise your hand if I’ve made any sexual suggestions or offered myself for money!”

  After an interminable silence, Kat spun back to Lambert and folded her arms across her chest. “I am desperate, Mr. Lambert, but I am not a whore and even if I was, there’s no amount of money on Earth you could pay me to sleep with you!” Her anger boiled over and she stepped toward him, hand raised high to strike again. Sadler caught her arm. He quickly grabbed her shoulder for good measure and began to pull her away from the mining foreman.

  “I was doing my job!” she cried out as Sadler held her back. “The job you told me to do! I was cleaning out Spur Fifteen!”

  Lambert regrouped his dignity and shouted back, “You dumb bitch! I said Spur SIXTEEN!”

  Kat’s eyes widened and she felt her heart sink as the fight drained from her.

  The foreman rubbed at his cheek before dropping his hand to his side. He muttered another obscenity and spat before stomping off toward the office trailers.

  Kat felt Sadler release his grip and she turned to him with shimmering eyes. “I know I heard Fifteen,” she insisted.

  Sadler grimaced. “I believe you, Kat, but we did lose a groundhog in Sixteen last night.” He cocked his head to an angle. “It’s loud down in the mines. Is it possible he said Sixteen and you just heard it wrong?”

  Kat began to shake her head but stopped. Is it possible? she asked herself. Her shoulders sagged and she looked at Sadler pitifully. “I don’t know. I guess it’s possible…”

  He patted her on the shoulder. “I better go talk to him although he still had no right to make that accusation,” he said and took a step away.

  Kat reached out and grabbed his hand. Sadler pivoted and glanced at their physical connection before looking her in the eyes.

  “Sadler, I’m sorry,” she offered in a muted voice. “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”

  Sadler’s eyes played over their hands again and he smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay. It was an honest mistake.”

  She released her grip and the man trotted toward the office trailers. “Just great,” she muttered as she watched him go. Finally, she moved toward her trailer, avoiding eye contact with the workers around her.

  Ten minutes later, the day shift had assembled in the courtyard. Kat sat with her crew and was relieved when they welcomed her. George asked for a first person account of the entire incident with particular emphasis on the slap to Lambert. When Kat finished telling her story, she sat quietly, listening to the rumor mill churn at the tables around her. At least I’m not a reject to my crew, she thought gratefully.

  Lambert’s other two assistant foremen appeared and gave a short briefing on the status of the mine, what the night shift had accomplished and the focus of today’s activities. Both Lambert and Sadler were absent. After the briefing, the miners were released to their duties.

  As the morning passed, Kat hid behind her miner’s mask and hardhat and buried herself in the heat, noise and dust. Deke was back to his laborer’s position, making Kat the only dryman on the team. She doubled her efforts to keep the spur’s machinery as dust-free and lubricated as possible. Occasionally, after climbing from under a conveyor section or dashing in front of the grinder for a quick spray, Shannon or George gave her an affirming look. During the short breaks, Deke complimented her on being aggressively proactive while moving under the perilously tight confines of the conveyor system. He also constantly reminded her to avoid expending too much of the suppressant in the morning.

  When lunchtime came, Kat was grateful for the break. The weight of her backpack seemed to have doubled from the day before and her lower back convulsed every time she stood up. She placed her full plate on her crew’s table and stretched her hands over her head to release the pressure along her spine.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Deke said to her. He jabbed a strip of meat with his fork and then dipped it into his food paste. “I know it feels heavy now but I’ve seen drymen two-thirds your size manage.”

  “She’s doing fine,” Shannon stated.

  �
�Howdy, folks,” Sadler greeted congenially as he lifted his legs over the bench to sit. “How are things going?”

  “Damn gears on the grinder are slipping again,” George said. “We’re babying it as much as we can but it’s slowing our progress.”

  Sadler shook his head and rubbed his chin pensively. “Do the best you can.”

  George shrugged. “It’s not gonna hold up much longer, Sadler. Lambert can either take it off the line now and fix it or hope the whole front end doesn’t rip off when it finally goes.”

  “Jesus,” Sadler muttered. “I’m going to have to go back in there and tell him Crew Four’s grinder needs thousands in repairs. After what happened last night…”

  “Hey, shit happens,” George said stubbornly and without apparent concern. “Maybe Lambert should’ve had someone inspect the tracks before he sent a groundhog down it.”

  “He claims that’s what he did with Kat.”

  “Bullshit,” Shannon said disgustedly. “You don’t trust a twenty-five thousand credit groundhog to a Johnny Newcomer.” She glanced at Kat. “No offense.”

  “Yeah, I said that too,” Sadler sighed before looking at Kat. “It’s costing the company a lot of money but it was just an accident. Don’t worry about it.”

  “They ain’t gonna dock her?” George asked.

  Sadler shook his head. “She’s not going to have to pay anything. I just hate the idea of going back into the offices and telling them they’re going to lose more money today because of the grinder.”

  “I’ve been warning you for weeks now,” George reminded him.

  Sadler held his hands up. “I know, George, and it’s not your fault. I’ve mentioned it was slipping to them before. Truth is, we’d probably have already lost it without you behind the stick. This is just the cost of doing business.” He looked at each of his people and admitted, “And me telling them that is just part of my job. It’s why they pay me the big bucks.” He smiled in effort to cast the gloom away.

  “I’m just sorry for my part of the misunderstanding, Mr. Wess,” Kat apologized again.

  “Kat, I have repeatedly asked you to call me Sadler.”

  Kat blushed. “I did! This morning… I just feel bad thinking you’re getting in trouble because of me.”

  “I’m not in trouble,” Sadler assured her. “And if I was, getting into trouble for you would be the best part of my day.” He looked around the table sheepishly. “I’m happy to stand up for any of you,” he quickly added.

  Tick giggled wildly as Shannon covered the girl’s mouth with a hand. “Of course you are, Mr. Wess.” Her eyes flashed wickedly. “I’m just glad that you’re willing to take a position behind Kat when she needs it.”

  Reece spurted his mouthful of water across the table as George began to belly laugh.

  Sadler forced a frown while looking around the table. He was blushing fiercely. “Okay, I think I have to go someplace that isn’t here.” He rapped his hand on the tabletop. “Keep up the good work.”

  The crew watched Sadler make his escape.

  “I think someone’s smited,” Deke waxed poetically.

  “Smitten,” Shannon corrected. “But he’s definitely that.” She looked at Kat and said, “He’s a good man, Kat. I’d be all over him if I wasn’t married.” She held up her left hand to flaunt a crude, inky band tattooed around her ring finger.

  “Lunch is over! Get back to work!” Lambert’s voice carried over the courtyard from a barbeque pit.

  The miners rose from their tables. Kat stood with them but quickly said, “I’ll catch up. I need to talk with Lambert.” Her companions gaped at her briefly before moving back toward the mine.

  Kat weaved through the crowd on her way to the pits. When she cleared the masses, Lambert’s eyes locked on her and his posture stiffened.

  “Mr. Lambert,” Kat started once she had reached him, “I want to apologize for slapping you. I lost my temper at your accusation but it was still wrong.”

  The foreman regarded her icily.

  Kat waited several more seconds for a response. “Okay,” she said when none came. “I just wanted to set things right.” She turned and jogged back to her crew.

  Chapter 17

  Kat felt the breeze wash over her face as she walked the narrow path between the coal cars on twin mag-rail spurs. The equipment trailers loomed in the distance. The day’s temperature was brutally hot but compared to the oven underground, the dry wind felt almost like standing in front of the conditioned air vents in her old bedroom. The thought caught her off guard. Which was where, exactly? She didn’t know. Evaporating sweat cooled her further and helped soothe her sour mood.

  The unfortunate and embarrassing events of Tuesday morning were still a source of gossip at the mine on Wednesday. Worse still, Kat had begun to notice other crews staring at her when they thought she wasn’t looking. She could faintly hear hushed conversations stop and feel the quiet amusement emanating from certain groups of miners as she passed.

  Shortly after starting her shift on Wednesday morning, Lambert had approached Kat’s crew in Spur Twenty-nine. He stated that the dryman in the spur across the main tunnel had lost his balance under a conveyor section and caught his hand in some gears. Kat would be responsible for both spurs for the rest of the day. Lambert took great pains in front of Kat’s crew to call out the spur’s number, going so far as to slowly count with his fingers up to the proper number to ensure there was no misunderstanding.

  The doubling of her workload had forced Kat to skip lunch in order to catch up cleaning the long sections of the new spur’s conveyor system. By the time late afternoon arrived, she had run out of coal dust suppressant. She had quickly rode an elevator car to the surface and now walked deliberately to the same equipment trailers where she picked up her backpack unit each morning.

  She ducked into a small gap between two connected railcars to let a large dump truck pass on the constricted path. Large vehicles always have the right-of-way, she repeated, echoing the orientation guide’s words to herself. Even though the truck was only crawling, its engine roared as it passed her. Once it was safe to proceed, Kat continued her journey. She reached the end of the lane a minute later and walked around a utility air vehicle blocking the path. It was the same flatbed that Sadler had used to airlift the injured to the hospital almost a week ago.

  Kat walked the last fifteen meters to the drymen’s equipment trailer. Unlike the mornings, there was no line at the large counter built into the trailer’s side. A maintenance worker was testing the air lines of another backpack unit when Kat waved for his attention. “I’m out of suppressant,” she said as she slipped the straps of her own pack off her sore shoulders.

  The worker shook his head slightly but walked over to the counter. “I’m going to have to get your name,” he stated remorsefully.

  “It’s Kat Smith but I’m out of spray because I’ve been cleaning two different spurs all day.”

  The worker’s eyebrows shot upward as he took note. “Which ones?”

  “Twenty-nine and Twenty-eight,” she answered. “I’m filling in for a dryman that got hurt.”

  The worker clucked. “Yeah, that was Charlie Weber. Poor bastard lost his hand. Was screaming his head off when they brought him up. Said he was on his knees blowing a section clean and the next thing he knew, he was falling forward toward a takeup pulley.” The man shook his head distastefully as he reached for Kat’s gear. “Let me fill you up.”

  Kat turned away from the counter and leaned her back against it. Her mask was raised but the ear protection and hardhat were still seated securely. She remembered thinking just two days ago during her orientation tour that the site was utter chaos. Now, as she watched workers scurry between rolling vehicles, the bedlam seemed to have an order to it. It’s almost like an intricate dance, she reflected.

  A loud horn blared near the trailer. Her eyes tracked down the narrow lane of railcars she had walked, to the opposite end. A fully loaded dump truck was co
ming up the path, its driver insistently honking its horn. The truck was moving much faster than the one that had previously passed her.

  “Damn idiot,” spat the maintenance worker behind her. “It’s dangerous enough driving between those two mag-rails. The fool needs to slow down before he causes another accident.”

  The horn bleated out another long blow.

  “Shit,” the worker cursed as he watched the driver barely able to correct his course between the rows of railcars. “I don’t think he can slow down. He ain’t got no brakes.”

  Kat considered the path ahead of the truck and felt herself take a sharp breath. Even if he makes it up the lane, he’s going to crash into the flatbed! She took off in an instant.

  “Lady!” screamed the maintenance worker. “Come back!”

  Kat raced across the blackened grass, past the flatbed and toward the oncoming truck. Her hardhat bounced loosely on her head and she flipped it off with the back of her hand. “Turn off the engine!” she screamed before realizing that the driver would lose his steering if he did. She stumbled to a stop as the truck bore down on her. The sight of the lumbering vehicle forced a retreat back to the flatbed. A quick inspection told her the grounds were clear beyond the utility vehicle. What a stupid place to park this, she thought as she pushed against its rear. The vehicle didn’t budge and she glanced back toward the dump truck. It was losing momentum now on a slight incline but even at idle it would smash into the flatbed before it rolled to a stop. The desperation in the driver’s eyes tore at Kat.

  Instinct drove her forward. She climbed up the single driver’s step on the flatbed’s cab and pounded on the door release. She subtly shifted her weight and the gull-wing door swept up past her. She was in the cockpit before she realized what she was doing.