Roll Call, Enter the Mines 7

Roll Call

Harold hurried after Abraham as they stepped off of the elevator. Though they were now on the mining level, the lowest in the Mines; they wre still not quite in the mining sector. This was Pipe Hall, a giant cavern housing the enormous hydraulic elevator.

It also functioned as a place to call the roll.

Countless miners filled the hall, assembling in weary lines. Shaky blue light from their lanterns gleamed dimly onto high smooth walls that reached upward to a vaulted ceiling of stone. The roar of the droning machinery was deafening. Smoky clouds swirled up from the floor into mouths and noses at the slightest movement.

Abraham grinned thinly, glancing behind at the sound of Harold gagging on the dust-choked air. "If you think this is bad, wait till we actually get down to the Shafts. You can't hardly breathe till you're used to it. All the drilling stirs up a powerful amount of grit, especially if you drill coal, like those poor buggers over there."

Abraham jabbed his thumb towards the side. Harold turned his head and beheld a pitiful scene.

A line of miners were assembled in ragged order outside a blackened door. Their general appearance was one of despair. One or two were crying. All were having difficulty breathing, some were heaving racking coughs, and a few were actually gasping for every breath, the inside of their mouth actually crusted black with coal..

Harold's eyes widened.

"Coal dust." explained Abraham grimly. "Gets into the lungs and causes problems. They switch the mining team for Coal every week, just to keep us miners in suspense. That one group's been in there for about three days. Most of them'll drop by the end of the week."

He noticed the look on Harold's face and assured him, "We're not headed there. We're drilling Iron, level four. Not ideal, but nothin' that'll kill ya." He handed Harold a rubber mask. "This here's a filter. Keep it on as much as possible."

Harold took the mask, continuing to stare at the coal shift until Abraham smacked him. "Get in line. We're Alpha miners, so we're up front."

As Harold hurried after Abraham, a question suddenly came to him. "The Registrator..."

"What about him?!" Abraham snapped. He looked almost scared.

" H-he-e said that this bracelet" Harold quavered, shaking his wrist, "tells him who's alive and who's dead, where we are and what we do. Why do they have roll call? "

Abraham had recovered, but when he did answer, his reply made no sense. "To see if any dead bodies have gone unreported." He looked sharply at Harold. "Don't ask so many questions."

Harold did not have time to point out that this was only the second question he had asked since his arrival.

"All miners in Team 8742 proceed to Portal 45!" blared the speaker. "Team 8742 to Portal 45!"

"Here we go, kid." muttered Abraham. "Playtime is over." He shoved the respirator into his mouth and stalked toward the looming door.
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PArt 8: The Beat: [link]