Antonio noticed Mark coming inside of the house. He first took a look at the mud under Marks shoes, leaving a mess inside of the house. The Spaniard frowned. ''Marcos… how many times I have to say it again? No shoes in the house!''
But the teen wasn't paying much attention to the sermon of the man. He looked to the stranger, a stranger with weirdly colored eyes. He seemed like someone from the North, maybe also a protestant.
Maybe he was getting them out of this cursed place! ''So this is Marcos?'' the man said to Antonio. The Spaniard nodded frowning, glaring at Mark. The stranger spoke with a heavy accent. ''Who are you? Are you a protesta…'' Mark was cut off by the Russian.
''заткнись!'' the stranger said to him, before again turning to Antonio. ''Well, you were right about his manners. But don't worry, he will learn some pretty quick after a few weeks in the mine'' he grinned.
Mark remembered the talk in the garden, which he heard. ''I want to head back, this heat is killing me. Goodbye Antonio, I will write you a letter soon. Let's go, Marcos!'' the Russian said grabbing Marks arm.
The teen jerked his arm back, standing his ground and glancing at the stranger. ''I'm not going anywhere without my sister and brother'' The man sighed and grabbed something that was standing behind him.
Mark did a step back, just before his head felt like it was about to explode he saw something shining in the sunlight. Black spots appeared in his sight, he fell down on his knees.
The last thing he saw was the man grinning and speaking to Antonio. ''If you hadn't been that stubborn about disciplining him yourself, he wouldn't be such a disobedient brat'' Antonio sighed, not wanting to discuss the matter again. ''You're sure you can handle those other two?'' the stranger asked, letting the faucet pipe softly coming down in his own hand a few times.
''Yes, it's just Marcos who keeps fighting every single thing'' Mark felt being picked up and thrown over a shoulder before everything blacked out completely.
''Wake up…'' he heard a voice, someone softly jerking at his arm. Mark moaned softly when he felt the headache coming back, blinking a few times. It was dark, night probably. ''Miguel isn't there yet, Bell, let me sleep'' he mumbled. ''Bell?'' he heard another voice asking.
Mark frowned before opening his eyes. He could see a few shadows in the weak light of a lantern. Confused, he sat up quickly, before grabbing his head. ''Aaargh…'' he moaned. ''Calm down…calm down….'' he heard the first voice saying. ''Where am I?'' he asked confused, trying to see who the other persons where. He saw three shadows.
''In the coalmine of mr. Braginsky'' the second voice said. ''I'm Eduard and those are my brothers, Raivis and Toris'' the one who had stayed quiet before, said. He gave him some kind of glass. When Mark drank from it, he tasted water.
''You have been unconscious for at least a whole day'' Mark frowned, trying to remember what happened, bit by bit his memory came back. ''What am I doing here?'' he asked. Mark felt the cold ground underneath him, barely able to see anything down here. The smell of the air was stale.
''This is a coalmine, getting coal from the rocks and getting it up, above the ground'' the shortest one said. A yell went through the tunnel. It wasn't a yell of panic, but more to announce something.
''We'll explain later'' the man who was called Toris said. ''You go with Eduard, we still got to catch up with the schedule. We're late'' They got up, two of them walked to the left in the tunnel and the other two to the right, one of them Mark.
At the end of the tunnel, there were two pickaxes and a small cart on a rail. There were noises of hacking hearable in the distance. Eduard handed one of the pickaxes to Mark and pointed at a even smaller tunnel.
''Hack some coal loose and put it into the cart. When it's full, you shout Nākamais. We've got to hurry, we are already behind schedule '' Eduard said before climbing into one of the small tunnels with the pickaxe with a small lantern.
Mark was still not able to understand everything but those three brothers seemed nice. And the stranger who hit him on the head wasn't…
The tunnel was narrow and Mark was barely able to breathe when he hacked the coal and dust spread through the air. He coughed awfully, feeling like he was about to choke.
Every time he collected enough loose coal, he went out of the tunnel to put it into the cart. Although in the big tunnel there was also lots of dust, it was far less than in the small one.
After a long time, it had seemed like eternity to Mark, he heard Eduard's voice again. ''Day's over!'' Mark sighed relieved, his arms were sore and every few minutes he coughed hard. With some difficulty, he managed to get out of the tunnel for the last day.
The two other brothers returned and they walked through the corridors. Mark heard them whispering about goals and someone called Braginsky. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, just above a ladder. Mark heard voices in another tunnel, coming closer.
They seemed familiar but before he could remember where he heard those voices before, they stopped talking. Eduard climbed up the ladder, towards the light, shortly behind him Mark. ''Don't fall, we will all fall to our deaths'' Toris said to him, just a few feet beneath him.
Marks arms were ready to give in, they were just too tired to hold on to the ladder. But somehow he managed to get up.
The light was bright, tears appeared in the corners of his eyes. Mark put a arm above his eyes, so he could see something. Eduard helped him up, his clothes and face covered with a thin layer of black powder of the coal.
He saw the others come up, Mark sat down just a few meters away from the ladder, gasping softly. His headache was coming back. When he looked at his hands, he could see that they were as black as Eduards. Toris appeared at the top of the ladder and he looked at somebody behind Mark.
The teen turned his head and saw two legs. He lightly frowned and looked up, seeing the face of the stranger. The man looked down and grinned. ''First day is always the toughest.'' Than the Russian man turned to Toris. ''There isn't enough...'' he said, his voice cold and harsh.
''Ehm… the new one slowed us down'' Toris stuttered, getting pale. ''Excuses?'' Ivan said, coming closer with the same faucet pipe that hit Mark on the head in Antonio's house. Mark tensed his muscles, not trusting the Russian. ''Ehm… we're sorry!'' Toris said, his eyes widened with fear. ''Saying sorry won't get me more coal…'' Ivan said. He glanced at Mark.
''You still don't get where you are, do you? You're not at Antonio's house anymore. You're in a mine. And in a mine you will work hard. No time for being lazy slow. Do you get that?'' he said.
Mark just stared back at him, too tired to say anything back. The Russian was losing his patience and grabbed the collar of Marks shirt, dragging him with him. Mark grabbed the fabric around his neck, trying to catch his breath. Finally, Ivan let go of him.
Mark fell on the ground and tried to get back on his feet. But before he could, he felt a foot on in his side, keeping him on the ground, while a door behind them was slammed. The teen tried to get away from under the foot. ''You were lucky, you barely had to do anything there at Spain's house. Rude, lazy and stubborn. But that will change now you're here. I'm not so patient and merciful as Antonio. I even gave you a change to prove that you would work here. But no, you just choose to do nothing. Well, I've warned you enough.''
Mark heard a swaying sound before all the air was blown out of his lungs. He gasped for air with short squeaking breaths. ''If you won't listen the easy way, than you will feel the hard way'' Ivan said, before again letting the faucet pipe coming down, this time on the shoulder of Mark. The teen yelled in pain and anger, still trying to get up.
The man just sighed and continued. After a few more hits, Mark was too tired to keep trying and he stopped moving. Still softly gasping for air. ''I hope you have learned your lesson, although I doubt it'' the man said, while kicking him in the guts and walking away. Mark managed to pull himself to the wall of the room, sighing in desperation.
How was he going to escape from here? He heard the door being locked. And even if the door wasn't, he wouldn't have the energy to run away. Mark was angry at Ivan, he had worked as hard as he could and still got beaten up. He didn't deserve this! But the lack of energy was winning over his anger and Mark slowly fell asleep, tired of the hard labor.
The next morning, he was woken roughly by ice cold water. Mark gasped in panic, coughing up water that had gone into his lungs and sitting up. His eyes wide open wide surprise, he looked up at the grinning Russian. ''Time to get to work, get up!'' he said.
Mark slowly got on his feet, glaring at Ivan, every muscle in his body ached and his head wasn't much better either. ''Hurry up, собака'' Ivan said irritated and pushing him out roughly, towards the ladder. Mark saw the last one of the brother, Raivis, climb down the ladder. Mark followed him, his arms aching even more.
''I told you to hurry'' Ivan grumbled. ''Or do I have to help with dropping a few bricks?'' he asked irritated. Mark heard Raivis rushing down the ladder even quicker than before. That man wasn't going to be that crazy that he would really drop a few bricks at the top of the ladder, would he?
But judging on Raivis reaction, that man was mad enough to do it. Down in the mine, he got handed a axe and Mark followed Eduard again to the tunnels, his clothing still wet of the water.
His arms quickly became really tired, still aching from yesterday. But every time Mark wanted to take a rest, Eduard reminded him of the goal they had to reach. Not making the goal once was bad enough, but two times in a row even worse.
After hours and hours, Eduard finally appeared at the end of the tunnel and said it was time for lunch. Mark quickly crawled out, he was starving. But the lunch was disappointing, just a few slices of bread and some water. Because they hadn't made the goal yesterday, dinner was skipped. Everyone was hungry.
After the break, the work even seemed harder and harder, Mark was sweating and panting. It seemed like there was never going to be an end. And every few minutes the dust in his lungs became too much and an inevitable coughing followed.
When finally the end came, Mark just wanted to lay down and don't move. But somehow he again climbed up the ladder, again to see Ivans face. ''Just enough'' he shortly said. The brothers already walked back to the place where they slept, when Ivan called Marks name.
The teen startled, tensing his muscles, waiting for the first hit. He turned around. The Russian got something from behind his back. Mark already did a step backwards, checking his eye corners for a possibility to dodge the hit. But it wasn't a pipe that Ivan grabbed, it was a piece of cloth. A scarf actually. ''Tie it in front of your nose and mouth. It will stop the dust from coming into your lungs'' the man said, while handing it to Mark. The teen frowned, still not trusting the man. It was obvious that even overground his coughing had been heard. But why would the man help him?
It seemed like the Russian could read his mind. ''I can't have sick workers, they only cost me money instead of working'' Mark frowned and glared at the man, that Russian wasn't even human, he thought.
Working with the scarf was harder, it prevented him from breathing easy. After a few hours, Mark was that irritated that he jerked the scarf off. But when he saw how dirty the scarf was, dust that otherwise would have gone into his lungs, he sighed and again tied the scarf around his neck.
Minutes became hours, hours became days, days became weeks. After a few days, Mark lost track of time. It was always the same, wake up, work, break, work, dinner, sleep, wake up, work, break, work, dinner, sleep. It repeated over and over.
On day, the wheel of the cart broke and it couldn't be repaired instantly. Because of that, they had to put the coal into big bags and carry them up the ladder. It was even more tiring than normal. Just after a few hours, Mark felt like he already worked a whole day. And every time he went up, he saw the face of the Russian, sitting in a chair, drinking vodka and reading the newspaper.
The last few steps on the ladder, the bag on his right shoulder. Mark was panting heavily and got on the ground outside. He threw the bag on top of the pile of the coal, making a cloud of dust. ''Ey! Careful you!'' Ivan said irritated, waving with the newspaper. Mark just glared furiously at him. All that that Russian did was sitting down and commanding.
Ivan seemed to notice the glare and he got up from his chair, putting the bottle and the newspaper down. ''Get down in the mine…'' he said coldly, his violet colored eyes glancing back, just inches away from Mark. The teens body ached, black and blue spots everywhere. It was a horrible place to work, no light, dust and very hard labor.
Mark didn't move, he even didn't look away. ''You clearly still don't understand your place here!'' Ivan snarled, grabbing the horsewhip he always carried with him. ''Take of your shirt'' he commanded. Mark refused to do anything and that earned him a lash across his face, over his eye. He felt blood dripping down, doing a step back and closing his eyes. Mark felt a blow in his stomach and being thrown to the ground.
His shirt was ripped of his back. Mark put his arms beneath him and pushed himself up, trying to avoid the first hit. The teen pushed himself to the right, away from Ivan. The whip curled around his throat, leaving a bleeding lash on the skin. Mark cried out in pain, it sounded hoarse and choked. The boot of Ivan landed in his guts, making him fall down on the ground again, gasping in desperate need of air. Every breath hurt at his throat and lungs.
But Ivan was clearly not done yet. ''You will obey me, even if I have to beat you to death'' his back got ripped open with the whip. Mark held his arms in front of his face, trying to protect it. His legs he pulled up to prevent getting kicked in the stomach again.
But his back was still an easy target to Ivan. Every lash left a bleeding wound. Mark gritted his teeth, trying to keep quiet. He didn't want to give the Russian the satisfaction of making him scream. Ivan continued whipping the teen until he was out of breath, lightly panting he looked down on the figure on the ground, his back covered in blood.