The shrill whistle of the shift's end, filled the yard at the NickCo Mine.
It startled the black birds in the nearby trees and they lifted out of the branches in a tumbled group and flapped away over the top of a mountainous black slag heap.
The water lying in the deep tire ruts in the yard reflected wavering slivers of the yellow tinged sky and the floating clouds high above. They did not have the capacity to reflect the stench of sulfur that suffused the air.
When the wind blew from the west and ruffled the surface of the tailing pond… the air was filled with the smell of rotting eggs and coated the lining of the nose and throat.
***
He pulled the yellow hard hat from his head and rubbed with the wrist of his glove… at the itching of his sweat soaked scalp…it was so hot in the tunnels below.
He replaced his hard hat before the elevator reached the surface… those management bastards…would write him up for another safety violation…if they caught him without it.
It made him angry just to think about that pasty faced Safety Officer lecturing him…him!
His fists clenched at the memory of the indignity and the other miners accompanying him in the elevator moved surreptitiously as far distant as the close confines would allow.
His temper already had a reputation with the crews.
When the doors of the elevator slid open the crowd of the miners waiting to descend for the next shift stood back to allow them to exit…Get the fuck out of my way… he thought as he shouldered his way past…
He didn't turn with the rest of the crew to locker rooms and showers…but instead when directly to the time clock…ramming his card in with unnecessary force.
Then he was out the doors and into the mud of the yard…the stink of sulfur assailed him…it was fucking disgusting, the whole of Sudbury smelled like a cesspool when the wind was right he told himself.
He tore off one of his heavy work gloves and holding it under his arm he fished a cigarette from the pocket of his coveralls. He let it dangle loosely from his lower lip while he retrieved his lighter and drew heavily on the cigarette once it was lit.
If those shit head Safety inspectors knew he had a lighter …down below…there would be all hell to pay…. He smiled grimly to himself.
He flicked the ashed away as he crossed the yard pass by the chain link fence that marked the perimeter of the yard and out to the parking beyond.
He passed through the smoky cloud of his own exhalations as he walked… he drew on the cigarette and the tip glowed red as he pulled.
This was all her fault he thought…he wouldn't be stuck in this hell hole if it weren't for her.
When he reached his battered pick up, he yanked open the door and tossed his hardhat across to the passenger side… The cab of the truck was littered with garbage, fast food containers and empty beer bottles. He pulled off his other glove and tossed them both after the hardhat.
Stripping off his coveralls he revealed a dingy grey t-shirt. His work pants were splotched and greasy across the thighs from too much wearing and too many fast food meals in the cab of his truck. He removed his boots and stood barefoot on the pavement as he stepped out of the coveralls… then stepped back into the boots.
He wadded the coveralls, inside out, into a ball and pushed them behind the driver's seat…where he retrieved a six pack of beer. Using the opener hanging from his key chain he popped off the top and raised the brown glass neck to his lips. He didn't care that the frothy liquid was warm…if flowed smooth and bubbling down his throat. He tilted back his head and drained the bottle…tossing it across the seat.
Then climbing behind the wheel he turned over the engine and forced his way into the line of departing cars and trucks.
This is bullshit he thought in agitation .He hated waiting in line to clear the security gate. Why the fuck do they need to know who is on the property at all times?
He passed the straggling line of trees…that now screened the mine buildings proper from view.
They were a last rattling breath of nature's demise…in the moonscape of desolation that surrounded the mine. Scrub vegetation, withered and dead from the steam driven fumes of the refining processes lined the roadway.
It was all her fucking fault he thought sullenly. If she had just done what he told her…then he would still have his job as a hunting guide up in Windemere… he thought. They'd still be in their isolated cabin in the deep woods and he still be able to…
"What the fuck was wrong with these idiots?" he shouted aloud… though he was alone inside the cab …"can't they hurry up!" He butted his cigarette forcefully out in the overflowing ash tray. Feeling along the seat he pulled another from an open pack and lit up again. He drew on it blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth.
He was one car away from the gate now and it was all he could do not to lean on the horn.
His whiskered face was flushed with anger… his gut clenched impotently.
That whore… he thought…she couldn't keep that stupid mouth shut like he told her…all she needed to do was to keep quiet and no one would have been the wiser… he should have kept her locked up all the time.
He was at the window now and he held up his employee ID badge to the bored security officer in the booth…
"Name?"… The guard inquired without raising his eyes…as he regarded his list.
"Flores" he said with the cigarette dangling from one side of his mouth…"F-L-O-R-E-S…Anthony."
The guard made a check on his paperwork and then waved Anthony through.
He laid a trail of black on the asphalt as he gunned the truck away from the gate.
The guard in the booth only shook his head in disgust… "Name?" he inquired…
Anthony drove with reckless abandon down the highway… he was working on his third beer… and he was travelling easily twenty five miles an hour over the speed limit.
He came roaring up on a car and then got right behind their bumper… If they are not going to go fast enough he thought…then why the fuck can't they get out of my way.
He swerved to the right and left immediately behind them…. demanding that they pull off and let him by…the steady stream of traffic moving in the opposite direction prevented him from passing.
His chapped, work roughened hands, slammed down on the steering wheel, he was shouting…red in the face…his mouth twisted in an ugly snarl… "Get the fuck out of my way you stupid cock sucker…"
He leaned on the horn as the car in front edged over to the shoulder…he roared past…his wheels drifting as he barely held the truck on the road.
He looked in his review mirror… to be sure that he could see the driver's face when he raised his middle finger…"fucking shit head"…he mumbled.
He failed to note his own reflection as it appeared in that mirror… his eyes under his lowered brow cunning and feral ….lit with a malicious rage.
"Why can't people just do what I want?" he moaned to himself as he neared his rooming house.
That bitch…Jenny… Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut like he told her…If she had just been a good wife…then he wouldn't have had to do all those things to try to teach her…
If she had just been a good wife… he wouldn't have had to beat her…
He shifted in his seat as his pants grew confining…he thought of her tear stained face…he thought of her voice begging him…begging… on her hands and knees in front of him. His hand dropped to his crotch… rubbing… coaxing.
He heard in his mind…her screams as he punished her…
"I'm only doing this to help you learn…sweetie"…he had whispered in her ear. "You want to be a good little bitch…don't you?" "You'll never leave me…He had promised her… I'll kill her… I'll kill everyone you care about …sweetie."
And only when he had been finally…aroused enough by his handiwork…then and only then would he take her, brutally sheathing himself inside her body…and grunting find his release. "Stupid bitch…"
He pulled up in front of the dilapidated rooming house in one of the roughest neighborhoods of Sudbury. It was her fault he was reduced to this…she was to blame.
He repeated to himself his familiar dark litany…he'd shave her fucking head bald next time…he'll break her ankles or chain her in a fucking closet or bury her alive… she won't get away again… not once he laid his hands on her. She was his.
He'd make her beg for it…just the way he liked.
He promised himself…she was bad…it was all her fault…he rubbed aimlessly at the raised round patches of scar tissue that dotted the surface of his arms and chest.
She needed to be punished for what she had done… for what they had done…someone had to pay…