Pope 2

 Able, A young man with jet black hair and leathery hands, frowned as he stared up at the foreman, ignoring the angry whispers running through the crowd. Able often thought his squat, burly boss would have been happier as a circus ringmaster, selling people on the most incredible and unlikely ideas out there.

It helped that he had the moustache for it.

“Friends, brothers,listen up” The foreman called, silencing the crowd. “Listen to me. Hear alright in the back? Good. Listen: one hundred years ago, this summer, the Strangers first visited our humble green world”

Able was not the only one to groan and role their eyes at an opening they had heard far too often.

The foreman frowned but plunged ahead “It was a century ago that most of our fellow Humans forsook this world, the place of our kind’s birth. But not us! Not our forefathers! Not your Grandparents or their Grandparents. We, the loyal few, have remained to tend and care for the soil we first crawled from, the world that gave us life”

“My Grandparents WOULD have left” Someone called from the crowd. “If they could have afforded the space fare!”

There was a chorus of chuckles and bitter agreement. The would-be ringmaster gave up with a sigh, pulling his hardhat back on. “Doubt if you want, you knuckleheads, but the fact remains we’re something special, a part of history. The work we do, providing the raw materials to keep this world going, we matter”

“That and a pack of cigs will buy you a can of coffee!” Another angry voice called. “We’re not going back down in that accursed pit unless we get at least one of those!”

The foreman rolled his eyes as the mob of miners loudly agreed. Able and a few others remained quiet, simply watching their boss to see what he would say.

“I can’t get you ANYTHING” The foreman suddenly roared, his powerful voice silencing the crowd. “Unless you get back to work in that Mine. The new shafts just don't have enough to make it worth our time. I know, I know, the place creeps me out too” He regained some of his earlier showmanship. “I wouldn’t go down there alone for TWO packs of cigs AND a can of coffee. But the pit isn’t cursed, and it’s NOT haunted”

A murmur of disagreement ran through the crowd.

“It was the Strangers” A new voice called, wild and jittery. “They wanted the planet for themselves, they left something down here with us!”

Able sighed. Spotting a grey cat sitting on a nearby wall, he quietly left the crowd as it erupted into an argument over whether their mine had an evil alien hiding in it or not. He bent down next to the sleek stray, sharing some of his meager lunch with it.

He had no idea what the dark presence living in the ground beneath his feet was. Mining the old fashioned way was a dangerous enough job without Boogeymen. All he knew was that he had to go back down tomorrow, with nothing new to show Gwen for it.

Gwen was, as far as Able was concerned, the most beautiful creature on this or any other planet. Her beauty was only enhanced by the precious future life she now carried. Able was relieved to see, upon returning to the Mine’s boarding house, that she was not busy with housework for once, instead sitting down and supervising a couple of the miners doing the dishes.

She smiled at Able as he walked in, only letting her gaze drop a little when he shook his head. “It's okay baby: the Lord will provide”

One of the two dishwashers, an absolutely massive mountain of a man, chuckled. “Well yea, I can see what I can do” he dried his hand and shook Able’s. “Jacob Lord, good to meet you. The boys and I can definitely go without, for the sake of the little one on the way”

Gwen started to object, but Able laid a hand gently on her shoulder  “We appreciate it Jacob, anything helps”

The other dishwasher, a disheveled man with one good eye, frowned. “What I want to know is what's really down in that mine”

“You don't know that feeling?” Jacob asked. “That's evil down there man, what else do you need to know?”

“Haven't felt it yet” the disheveled man said with a shrug, pulling out a pack of gummies. “Tomorrow's my first day off of the truck and down in the tunnels”

“You won't enjoy it” Able muttered, gazing at his wife's brave face. “But what choice do any of us have?”

Able, Jacob and the others marched to the mine the next morning, spirits low but faces set in fierce determination. Trudging past half a dozen abandoned digs, their eyes settled on the entrance to THE mine, an unassuming shack built into the side of the hill that held the elevator which would plunge them to the depths below.

The cold morning air seemed to carry a whisper of warning, telling these poor lost souls to stay away. But they were driven by need and greed and went about their work.

The tunnels of the old mine were dry and dark, even the most advanced of lights seemingly swallowed up by shadow after only a few feet. The men tried to fill the air with talk and laughter and singing, as they always did, but it never lasted longer.

A whisper echoing from somewhere right behind you. Something moving just out of the corner of your eyes. The feeling of eyes watching you. The all consuming, ever present sense of dread. The hard, backbreaking labor was carried out in complete silence and always, always in pairs.

Everyone seemed to just know that whatever was down there with them would not hesitate to take them if it could catch them alone.

Able found himself paired with the one-eyed man, who was even quieter than most. Able caught him muttering to himself a few times and shook his head. This Pit of despair was well known for driving men mad. All the miners knew it would claim each of them in the end, hanging over their heads like an inevitable executioner's axe. Able just kept his mind on Gwen and kept working.

But no one could stay completely focused, not as the sense of unease just built and built as the day progressed. It was a miracle they didn't have more accidents than they did, every man looking over their shoulder more and more.

As the last hour of the day began, dread turned to panic. Every man moved as if they were drowning, fumbling tools and tripping over their own feet. They had to get out, they all had to get out! No one knew if the cold, cruel laughter that filled the air was real or just their collective imagination.

When the day finally ended, the miners bolted from the elevator like scared rabbits, filling their lungs with cool, fresh air. The dread finally lessened, at least a little, but a sick feeling in the stomach remained. Even the foreman made no effort to disguise it, trembling wildly as he sat down and nearly emptied a bottle of whiskey in one go.

The other miners took the extra step and made their way to the bar.

Able usually didn’t like going, he knew it worried Gwen, but with Jacob and the others volunteering to give up their rations, he felt obligated to go along.

The bar was full of laughter and shouting and pushing and tension and the smell of alcohol. Everyone was looking for a release of their frayed nerves. The one-eyed man just sat in a corner, eyes closed and muttering to himself again, so Able joined Jacob at the bar proper and indulged in a shot or two.

Of course, for some that’s all that was needed.

“The Strangers were demons!” The same wild voice as that morning cried out. “Sent here to visit the price of our sins upon us!” The speaker had a wild appearance to match his voice, though Able could swear the man was one of the other truck drivers, not an actual miner. “The ones who went offworld with them were probably just living sacrifices to their pagan, alien gods!”

“Now that ain’t cool” Jacob said, Able shocked to see the dark look on his jovial new friend’s face. “Lotta us got family who went with the Strangers”

“Good as dead” The wild-looking man repeated, eyes glinting dangerously. “Suckers for the slaughter”

Able groaned. The wild-looking man did too, when Jacob punched him in the face and sent him flying across the room. This was mostly met by cheers from the other patrons, though not from the men the crazed conspiracist had been sent flying into.

“Hey, calm down man” Able cautioned, reaching for Jacob’s back, but his hand was knocked away.

“You agree with him?” Jacob snarled, raising his fist again, before a chair was brought down hard over his head. The group of men he had bowled over were charging over for revenge. Jacob took three of them at once, but one slipped past the giant of a man and leaped at Able.

As if from nowhere, the one-eyed man was suddenly there, catching the leaping man midair and redirecting him into a nearby table.

Able appreciated the save, of course, but the men who had been sitting at that table did not and the one-eyed man was sent sprawling with a powerful punch. Able sighed and wadded into the fray, jumping on one of the new attacker’s backs and trying to pull the man down. The future Father found himself flying through the air a moment later, crashing into Jacob just as his large friend was getting back to his feet.

The bar was a maelstrom of fists and kicks and shouts and blood and booze. The owners watched the brawl play out, appreciating the miner’s need to burn off tension, before they saw one tooth knocked out too many and ended the brawl with a shotgun blast in the air.

The Men knew when their fun was over and obediently climbed off each other, helping each other up and apologizing for all the new bumps and bruises. The anger of battle from just a moment before was buried by the sense of comradeship and inebriation.

Able, for his part, was happy to come away with just a black eye and a bottle shard in his leg he pulled out easily enough. Gwen wouldn’t be thrilled, of course, but he knew she wouldn’t say anything. Jacob did, apologizing sheepishly as he was carried past (It took six men to carry his bulky frame). Able just nodded his understanding as he looked around for his other new friend.

He found him, sitting outside on the curb, nursing a bruised knuckle and nasty gash on his shoulder. If Able was being honest, he only looked slightly more disheveled now than he had before. 

The one-eyed man looked up and acknowledged Able with a nod and something that passed for a smile. “Never did like fisticuffs much. Better with a gun”

“Looked like you handled yourself alright to me,” Able replied. “And thanks for that, by the way. You didn’t have to get involved”

The man shrugged, looking over as a stray cat approached him, purring as he scratched it behind the ear. “I’ve gotten worse for a worse cause, believe me. Pope, by the way”

Able shook his hand. “Able Simmonds. Still, thank you: If there’s anything Gwen and I can do to repay you, to repay any of you, just let us know”

Pope nodded, and then got a look that seemed half mischievous, half remorseful. “There is something, actually: can you talk to the foreman, get him to call everyone in late tomorrow?”

“Not sure that’ll be necessary,” Able said with a chuckle. ”The way he was drinking, I doubt he’ll be up before noon. But yeah, he likes me: Gwen makes a killer shepherd's pie. I’ll talk to him”

Pope thanked him, bid Able and the cat a good night, and disappeared into the gloom of the evening. Able watched him go, taking over cat-petting duty, hoping his mental health would hold.

Able did not get the chance to talk to the foreman the next morning. The Mine blew up before he had the chance.

Everyone felt it, no matter how hungover, as the ground shook and a mighty roar rolled through the valley. Everyone raced to a door or a window, hearts sinking as they watched a black cloud of dust fill the morning sky. Shouts, tools clanking and the sound of running feet filled the air as they grabbed their equipment and hurried to the mine. They were far too late, the shack blown to pieces and the entrance completely caved in.

The foreman looked like he might throw up. Jacob’s bandaged hands trembled. Even the wild-eyed man was quiet. Their shared livelihood lay before them in ruins. Most of them had spent the last of their savings to come to this isolated boomtown in the first place. Everything they had was buried under tons of rubble, all they had left was a cursed town with a handful of shallow, unprofitable new veins. Able placed his arm around Gwen’s shoulder, even as tears filled his own eyes.

An inventory was quickly taken. Only three things were missing: Pope, the foreman’s best shovel and a box of dynamite. Able cursed himself for not being more suspicious of the clearly disturbed man’s request the night before. He dutifully reported the interaction to the foreman, who nodded grimly.

“That’s it,” He announced to the gathered miners. “We could probably open that Pit back up, but not under my watch. Better to starve then let that thing claim a single other soul. We’ll work the new shafts, twice as hard and twice as long if we have to, and make enough for us all to leave this cursed valley”

And so it was back to work. If anything, the miner’s were more discouraged now than ever, working themselves to the bone every day for fewer and fewer returns. No one even had the heart to start any more bar brawls.

But as the weeks went by, the shared feeling of fear and depression seemed to lessen, somehow. Hearts grew lighter, if ever so slightly. Laughter occurred more frequently. Songs lasted longer and longer. The foreman gave his speeches with more and more gusto. Jacob singlehandedly demolished half his fellow patrons in a single night. Able reflected, bitterly, that whatever had been in the pit was so awful that everyone seemed to find the idea of simply starving to death infinitely preferable.

The new lightness of heart was not the only odd occurrence. A sleek stray cat, the same one that had comforted Pope that fatal night Able thought, took up residence at the ruined mine entrance. Even while the bravest of Humans refused to go anywhere near it, leaving it as a solemn memorial to the lives it's dark presence had claimed, the feline seemed perfectly comfortable to sit and watch around the fallen timbers and gears, almost as if it was waiting for something.

And one day, as Able stood pondering the cat’s strange behaviour on his break, he could swear he saw something else move in the rubble. Another trick of the mind, he supposed. But then it moved again, one of the heavy beams budging ever so slightly. The cat looked over it’s shoulder at Able, blue eyes wide, as if it was asking him to come investigate. Able took a cautious step forwards and jumped back just as quick: The beam was definitely moving. Something was trying to push its way out of the mine. 

Luckily, Jacob was walking by just then and saw his frozen friend, as Able had lost the ability to speak. The big man followed his gaze and froze himself at the sight of something moving in the ruins of the old mine. 

He recovered quickly though, bellowing for the entire camp. As more and more men arrived, their own shouts of surprise were added to the chorus. Half of them grabbed tools and half of them grabbed guns and everyone charged towards the mine again.

With some heavy lifting from all, and a considerable effort from Jacob, the wreckage was cleared and a sole figure stepped out of the cloud of dust. Everyone tensed and more than one hammer was pulled back and cocked.

It was Pope. Exhausted, covered from head to toe in mud and grime, shovel held weakly by his side, he stumbled forward. Everyone watched in silence as he approached a crate and sat down heavily on it, tossing the shovel aside.

He took a few moments to catch his breath, before finding the foreman in the crowd. “It’s over” He panted out. “It’s all over. Every man lost working in that Pit, in all five hundred of its years, has been laid to rest, both body and soul. They won’t torment you anymore”

Everyone started at the dirt-covered spectre, mouths open in disbelief. Pope just groaned and leaned back, blocking the glare from the sun with his hand.

“It’s safe to work down there now. I expect you’ll all be rich in a week or three” He told the crowd. The not-so-stray cat strolled up and jumped onto his lap. “Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Animae eorum et animae omnium fidelium defunctorum per misericordiam Dei requiescant in pace. I’ll have to owe you for the dynamite”

A feeling grew in the miner’s hearts, a feeling of… peace. It had been so long since any of them had truly felt it, a dark spirit hovering over their (literal, apparently) ghost town that was now wondrously, joyously, lifted. They began to crowd around Pope, showering him with “thank yous” and “Hows?’ and “Incredibles!” and it wasn’t long before it turned into one big celebration.

The beer flowed and the laughter roared and the singing came, long and loud and full of sweet, complete relief.

As he hugged Gwen, Able spotted something out of the corner of his eye: Pope, slipping out unnoticed from his own celebration. Able wanted to follow, but found himself and his wife both scooped up in Jacob’s joyous arms.

Away from the sound of uproarious celebration, Pope slowly hiked up the hill. The cat was perched on his shoulder, showing he had missed him by rubbing against his ear. They came to a large clump of bushes and Pope groaned as he got back to work, slowly uncovering his mighty black stead. After laboring in the mine for a month, it was dark by the time he finally had it fully uncovered, and Pope stopped to watch the fireworks rocketing up from the mining town below, before heading back on the road.