Final Debt
Page 14
The way he stressed the word ‘crave’ made my heart rate spike. What did he mean by that?
“No time to waste.” Stepping back, Cut stole my roped hands, guiding me toward the crudely made entrance. Daniel followed, content to listen and watch rather than interrupt.
The second we traded starlight for thick, thick dirt above us, my urge to run accelerated. The timber framework gave way to jutting wooden poles, holding up a tin structure, keeping droplets at bay from the dripping earthen roof.
Exposed light bulbs dangled from the ceiling, casting us in stencils and shadows as we followed the corridor down, down, down then branched off to a large cave-like space.
I blinked, drinking in the array of clothes pegs and large bins labelled with what their contents entailed: dungarees, boots, hammers, chisels, and axes.
I shivered as the cold dampness ate through my clothing.
Daniel moved forward and grabbed a waterproof jacket. His cheeks dimpled cruelly as he sneered, “If only you’d been nice. I might’ve given you a jacket. It gets cold down here.” Grabbing a torch from another barrel, he shrugged. “Oh well, guess you’ll freeze and I’ll have to work extra hard to warm you back up when we return.”
Cut let me go, grabbing his own jacket and slinging it over his shoulders. He merely smiled and didn’t override his youngest’s decision not to give me extra warmth.
So be it.
I gritted my jaw, locking my muscles to hide my shivering.
Daniel patted my arse as he stalked past. “Let’s go to the tally room then we’ll go below.”
Below?
Further…down into the ground?
I…I…
I swallowed, forcing away my panic as I focused on the other word I dreaded.
Tally.
Tally room?
Like the marks on my fingertips?
I looked down at my twined wrists. Smudges and grime covered my index but beneath it, Jethro's marks still rested.
My heart twinged, remembering Jethro bent over and carefully inscribing my skin with his initials. The ink wouldn’t last forever; it’d already faded from washing my hands, but I loved having his mark there—in a way, it made him immortal. Even when I thought he was dead, his signature remained on my skin.
He’ll come for me.
I knew that. But I also knew he wouldn’t be in time.
I sucked in a heavy breath. If I never saw him again, at least we had the night in the stables. At least I got to see him one last time.
“Good plan.” Cut took my hand, dragging me deeper into the mine. More carts and trolleys, even an old Jeep littered the underground pathway. I hadn’t expected such a huge size. The mine had the air of an unseen city, complete with transportation, inhabitants, and daily commuters heading to their offices.
The lights did their best to push back the gloom, but between the strung bulbs, a cloying blackness permeated my skin and clothes. The stench of damp earth couldn’t be dispelled, nor could the underlying fear that any moment the world could collapse and I’d be buried forever.
Goosebumps scattered over my arms as we entered another small cave where numerous tables had been set with scales, plastic containers, and ziplock bags. This room was brightly lit, pretending it had its own sun and not banished to the underworld.
“This is where every worker must drop his haul at the end of the shift.” Cut waved at the room. “The diamonds are washed, weighed, measured, and lasered with the fair trading IPL code before being sorted into equal distribution for shipment.”
My eyes widened at the willingly given information. I knew Cut had no intention of letting me spill what I’d learned to others, but I couldn’t get used to how open he was.
I supposed from here on out, every secret I’d be privy to, every hidden action shown.
I frowned, remembering what he’d made me promise at the dice game at Hawksridge. He’d demanded I save him a debt in return for whatever he would share.
What did he expect me to do? And what made him so sure I’d obey, now Vaughn wasn’t here to torture?
Shoving those thoughts away, I focused on the already processed ziplock bags. If he wanted to share in-depth details of his family’s enterprise, who was I to stop him?
Knowledge was power.
In a few questions, I’d learned more about Daniel than I had in six months.
I could do the same with Cut.
My voice boomeranged around the cave. “How do you get the stones out of the country?”
Daniel stroked a bag gently. “Oh, we have multiple ways.”
Cut prowled to a table and plucked a dull stone from a pile of dirt. “We use private planes and bribe air traffic control. We use shipping containers and smuggle contraband in the captain’s quarters. Other times we use trucks and pay off officials at the borders. Sometimes, we bribe a trusted few in the Red Cross who disguise the stones in medical supplies. There is no end to transport if you start looking at avenues available. Each tactic helps us export blood diamonds to borders where ludicrous taxes and regulations don’t exist.”
My lips curled at the mention of Red Cross. How could he use something that was supposed to benefit those in need by turning them into mules for something that hurt to procure? “That’s immoral.”
Cut laughed. “You think that’s bad? Silly girl, you should hear what my ancestors used to do.” Coming closer, he traced my arm with his dusty fingertips. “Before your time is up in Africa, you’ll learn of one such method.” His eyes glowed with demons. “And then you can decide which is immoral.”
“No time to waste.” Stepping back, Cut stole my roped hands, guiding me toward the crudely made entrance. Daniel followed, content to listen and watch rather than interrupt.
The second we traded starlight for thick, thick dirt above us, my urge to run accelerated. The timber framework gave way to jutting wooden poles, holding up a tin structure, keeping droplets at bay from the dripping earthen roof.
Exposed light bulbs dangled from the ceiling, casting us in stencils and shadows as we followed the corridor down, down, down then branched off to a large cave-like space.
I blinked, drinking in the array of clothes pegs and large bins labelled with what their contents entailed: dungarees, boots, hammers, chisels, and axes.
I shivered as the cold dampness ate through my clothing.
Daniel moved forward and grabbed a waterproof jacket. His cheeks dimpled cruelly as he sneered, “If only you’d been nice. I might’ve given you a jacket. It gets cold down here.” Grabbing a torch from another barrel, he shrugged. “Oh well, guess you’ll freeze and I’ll have to work extra hard to warm you back up when we return.”
Cut let me go, grabbing his own jacket and slinging it over his shoulders. He merely smiled and didn’t override his youngest’s decision not to give me extra warmth.
So be it.
I gritted my jaw, locking my muscles to hide my shivering.
Daniel patted my arse as he stalked past. “Let’s go to the tally room then we’ll go below.”
Below?
Further…down into the ground?
I…I…
I swallowed, forcing away my panic as I focused on the other word I dreaded.
Tally.
Tally room?
Like the marks on my fingertips?
I looked down at my twined wrists. Smudges and grime covered my index but beneath it, Jethro's marks still rested.
My heart twinged, remembering Jethro bent over and carefully inscribing my skin with his initials. The ink wouldn’t last forever; it’d already faded from washing my hands, but I loved having his mark there—in a way, it made him immortal. Even when I thought he was dead, his signature remained on my skin.
He’ll come for me.
I knew that. But I also knew he wouldn’t be in time.
I sucked in a heavy breath. If I never saw him again, at least we had the night in the stables. At least I got to see him one last time.
“Good plan.” Cut took my hand, dragging me deeper into the mine. More carts and trolleys, even an old Jeep littered the underground pathway. I hadn’t expected such a huge size. The mine had the air of an unseen city, complete with transportation, inhabitants, and daily commuters heading to their offices.
The lights did their best to push back the gloom, but between the strung bulbs, a cloying blackness permeated my skin and clothes. The stench of damp earth couldn’t be dispelled, nor could the underlying fear that any moment the world could collapse and I’d be buried forever.
Goosebumps scattered over my arms as we entered another small cave where numerous tables had been set with scales, plastic containers, and ziplock bags. This room was brightly lit, pretending it had its own sun and not banished to the underworld.
“This is where every worker must drop his haul at the end of the shift.” Cut waved at the room. “The diamonds are washed, weighed, measured, and lasered with the fair trading IPL code before being sorted into equal distribution for shipment.”
My eyes widened at the willingly given information. I knew Cut had no intention of letting me spill what I’d learned to others, but I couldn’t get used to how open he was.
I supposed from here on out, every secret I’d be privy to, every hidden action shown.
I frowned, remembering what he’d made me promise at the dice game at Hawksridge. He’d demanded I save him a debt in return for whatever he would share.
What did he expect me to do? And what made him so sure I’d obey, now Vaughn wasn’t here to torture?
Shoving those thoughts away, I focused on the already processed ziplock bags. If he wanted to share in-depth details of his family’s enterprise, who was I to stop him?
Knowledge was power.
In a few questions, I’d learned more about Daniel than I had in six months.
I could do the same with Cut.
My voice boomeranged around the cave. “How do you get the stones out of the country?”
Daniel stroked a bag gently. “Oh, we have multiple ways.”
Cut prowled to a table and plucked a dull stone from a pile of dirt. “We use private planes and bribe air traffic control. We use shipping containers and smuggle contraband in the captain’s quarters. Other times we use trucks and pay off officials at the borders. Sometimes, we bribe a trusted few in the Red Cross who disguise the stones in medical supplies. There is no end to transport if you start looking at avenues available. Each tactic helps us export blood diamonds to borders where ludicrous taxes and regulations don’t exist.”
My lips curled at the mention of Red Cross. How could he use something that was supposed to benefit those in need by turning them into mules for something that hurt to procure? “That’s immoral.”
Cut laughed. “You think that’s bad? Silly girl, you should hear what my ancestors used to do.” Coming closer, he traced my arm with his dusty fingertips. “Before your time is up in Africa, you’ll learn of one such method.” His eyes glowed with demons. “And then you can decide which is immoral.”
