No one escapes from Black Storm.
At least that's what the writing said on the wall when Gaul entered the mining prison.
Four months in, and Gaul wasn't ever going to loose this coating of dust from his skin.
From Dawn to the early evening was just breaking rocks, and moving it down rails on
mine carts to be sorted out in the open.
They only ever did get one day off the week. And most of that time was spent stewing in
your cell and getting drunk on home made wine called "boot water" people tended to
make in wine skins that were made from leather shoes collected from the dead. Gaul
never drank the shit. As his first day into the prison someone passed out after taking
a mouthful of it.
This day wasn't anything so different as Gaul broke rocks by the candle light. He never
seemed to tire of it, but deep down he was getting sick of this shit and was just waiting
for an opening... one day.
He just had to be patient.
One rock break. After another.
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