The sun was nowhere near its' zenith, but Marcus was already soaked in sweat. They'd been climbing higher steadily throughout the morning, still without any idea of where they were actually being taken. Rebecca had told him that she had a strong feeling they were on the way to one of the mining colonies, judging from the mountain that was rising above them in the distance. The young woman had just cast another glance over her shoulder at him, and took the same moment to adjust the multi-colored bandana to wipe moisture from her own forehead.
"Are you holding up okay?" she asked.
He nodded, but couldn't stop gazing past her at the massive rock growing out of the earth beyond them. "Please tell me we're not going to have to climb that thing Becky."
"I can't say for certain Marc. These mines are usually cut out of the sides - so it's likely we won't need to go anywhere near the top of it."
"We can always hope I suppose." Marcus sighed.
They fell back into silence to continue the march, putting their focus back on the necessary effort it took to slog through the muddy path. The sound of approaching steps on the footpath they were traveling made Marcus stiffen. Within a few more seconds several figures appeared in front of them, but then quickly stepped to the side so that the rebels' band could pass first.
Marcus glanced at the men curiously as they went by, and realized they were no more than teenagers. Loose-fitting shorts and boots were their only uniform of choice, and each had a burlap sack either over a shoulder, or resting on the ground beside them. He found the sight of them somewhat confusing, and glanced Rebecca's direction questioningly.
She nodded as if she understood what he wanted to know. "They're probably porters, carrying minerals down from the mountain."
"They're young," Marcus said in soft awe, though it wasn't completely surprising. She'd already told him that workers could range much younger than even the boys they'd just passed by.
As the band was reaching the outskirts of the deeper rainforest, they came upon an odd-looking booth set up by the side of the path, with what was presumably a cook tending to a large pot. Marcus looked at Rebecca yet again, as a couple of the men in their company stopped to get food from the station. "What is this, their version of fast food?"
Rebecca almost laughed. "In a way, yes. They have kiosks like these set-up so that the workers can buy food."
Marcus noticed the cook eyeing Rebecca curiously, and the young woman stepped up to him before anyone else could tell her not to move. She exchanged a few soft words with him, and nodded her thanks to the stranger, before returning to Marcs' side.
"The young men, they're hauling cassiterite rocks. They've come from a tin mine."
This was a rather anticlimactic revelation to Marcus, and it must have been easily readable from his expression, because she quickly went on.
"In 2004, the US Government passed legislation that banned the use of lead in electronics. Manufacturers were forced to make a switch to using tin for the process of soldering their parts together, and the DRC supplies a third of the worlds' resources."
"Is there any mineral this country doesn't supply?"
Rebecca shook her head sadly at the question. "It ought to be one of the richest countries on the planet - instead, its' people are some of the poorest. Tell me there's nothing wrong with this picture."
Marcus nodded his agreement, as they stepped out into direct sunlight for the first time that day. Now they were able to catch an unobstructed view of the mountain, which had been stripped of all its' trees over the years for the sole purpose of the mining operation. Marcus squinted hard at the side of the rock, and thought he could see what kind of looked like ant-holes from the ground, carved out of the face of it.
The sun beat down on them with a fierce vengeance as they continued to climb, and Marc was starting to feel more sluggish in the heat. The man directly behind him was prodding him more insistently as he slowed down, and kept a firm arm against his back to make certain that he didn't stop. When Marcus stumbled he was there to catch him, out of irritation more than actual support.
Marc's legs felt heavy and uncooperative in a way he couldn't remember feeling that strongly before. The next time he was heaved forward by his captor, he couldn't keep his balance with the motion, and fell to his knees. Hot shame filled him as he thought about those teenage boys, carrying their own loads of material up and down this mountain. He couldn't even support his own feeble weight.
Arms began dragging him upright once more, as the familiar face of Ajamu circled back around the group to discover the source of the issue that had started slowing them all down. The African spoke sharply to the man who'd been "handling" him, and the rebel begrudgingly allowed Marcus to stay on the ground and rest for that instant. Marc didn't know whatto think when the rebel offered his canteen to him, but Rebecca swiftly spoke up to explain.
"Take it Marcus, get down as much water as they'll let you have. They don't want you collapsing on them. How does your chest feel?"
He swallowed water deeply before responding. "It's okay, I'm just hot. I feel like a giant wimp out here."
"The heat is harder on people who aren't conditioned to it," she told him gently. "You've got to speak up to me if you feel something strange. Otherwise, they'll just keep pushing you as hard as they have been."
Marcus swallowed yet again, and shuffled to his own feet. "It's all right. I'm ready to go."
"Take more time if you need it."
"I doubt they have much patience for it Becky. It'll be fine."
The rebel's band followed a path that led around the side of the mountain, and it took them another forty minutes to reach the center of the mining project. Marcus blinked hard when he first saw it, barely knowing where to focus first. The atmosphere was about as hectic a scene as he'd ever witnessed before, as he watched shirtless men criss-crossing paths from different directions. The odd picture reminded him of every disaster movie he'd ever seen, where spontaneous looting would break out at the first sign of the end of the world.
They were carrying loads of rocks and different hand-tools, entering and exiting various tunnels. The tunnels themselves seemed like they were too close together, almost on top of each other in places. To the side of the runners children were sitting in the dust, sifting through the powdered remains of rocks in buckets to search out the precious shiny pieces.
Several makeshift shelters were erected across the site using nothing more than wooden poles and plastic sheeting, providing places for workers to occasionally eat and rest, though it didn't appear they did very much of either. The entire operation looked so fragile to Marcs' eyes, that it seemed a good gust of wind could blow everything off the mountain.
He and Rebecca were prodded toward a muddy footbridge, by all appearances on their way to one of the shafts. They received looks from every man and child they passed, the same curious stare seeming to fill every pair of eyes that took them in.
"Do you know what we're doing?" Marcus asked Rebecca softly.
"I think we're going inside Marc," she replied evenly. "I can't say why."
They were marched past workers in the mouth of the tunnel, carrying what definitely looked like dynamite. There were no hard-hats here, no safety equipment of any kind. They only tools that Marcus noticed being used were a series of mallets, metal spikes, and arm loads of the explosives.
The coolness of the shaft was a welcome change to the beating sun, but Marcus still found himself trembling at the uncertainty of what was going to happen. The sound of muffled explosions from deeper underground met his ears, and made him feel even more nervous. He judged that they'd traveled around twenty-five feet before the darkness around them was complete, like the blackest night he'd ever witnessed.
The rhythmic pounding of sledgehammer against rock met them now as well, as the entire company pulled to a halt in the faint glimmer of light that was provided by a few head-lamps among them. Marcus thought he heard Rebecca talking to someone, and in the dim light he saw the outline of a man bent over against the side of the shaft, sorting through a pile of rubble.
She straightened up after a couple of minutes, and told him what they'd been talking about. "They have to create cavities in the cassiterite, and then they use dynamite to detonate it from the inside, so they can extract the mineral."
"Sounds extremely safe," Marcus remarked dryly, and then held his breath as one of the sources of light came toward him and Rebecca.
The rebel took them each by one arm, and drew them deeper inside of the tunnel, to where the shaft was starting to slightly widen out. An explosion closer by rocked the ground beneath them, and made Marcus sway in his step. He faltered only for an instant before starting to walk again. Ahead he could make out the forms of several more shadows, what turned out to be a number of men and teenagers lining the walls.
Marcus was trying to determine whether they were simply taking a break, when someone's light illuminated one of them enough for him to realize that the teenager was injured, with the entire right side of his forehead covered in dried blood. The doctor held in a gasp and remained silent, as the rebel who'd been guiding them spoke to Rebecca.
She listened without nodding or making so much as a sound herself, taking in every syllable as if it were of utmost importance. When she finally turned to Marcus, he was dying to find out what was going on. "There was a cave-in not from here, two days ago. They recovered these fourteen who were yet living, and now they all need medical attention."
"Why did they leave them in here?" Marcus demanded angrily. "They could done something for them other than chuck them into a tunnel!"
"They didn't want the investors to see their injuries, and it also sounds like they don't want them to see us."
"Becky, these conditions are deplorable. If they want these men and boys to be healthy, we have to get them out of here. I wouldn't even know where to start in this setting, I'd hardly be able to see the root of their injuries!"
Rebecca tentatively relayed his reply to the man commanding them, and the African shook his head sharply before answering her.
"He says you must begin here Marcus - that the foreign investors will be gone in the next day or so. Only then will these men be allowed outside the tunnel, as well as the two of us." She translated.
Marcus sighed heavily. "I need light - I need all the light we have available. Water too, and some of it needs to be hot somehow. Can we get any help from these idiots standing around?"
Rebecca made his request, but wisely refrained from calling them idiots to the African's face. "They'll give us some aid Marcus, and I'll do everything I can to help you too."
"We need to search each one, find out who's the worst off injury wise. Then we'll just start there," Marcus said, already feeling overwhelmed.
This wasn't going to be easy or sanitary. He exhaled sharply, wincing at the familiar tightness in his chest that was a sure sign of an environmental trigger for his asthma. Marcus didn't have time to think about it; there were too many others who'd been suffering for far too long.
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