The next six days passed without incident. Henry, Wendy, and Chelsey continued hunting songbirds until they had captured seven in total. Since she didn't have to sleep, Wendy spent the nights making grocery runs. She had gathered and packed all the supplies they'd need to survive the mines. Flashlights, rope, wood planks, and anything else they couldn't get from the mining town All together, she'd scavenged nearly two months worth of food and other basic supplies. All of it was dry goods, of course. Mark had made it very clear, but they couldn't light fires in the mines.

Apparently, even a single spark could engulf the entire mine into a raging fire. It hadn't taken Henry long to realize what a disaster that would be. Not only because they'd be trapped by the inferno, but also because the fire would never die. Things left underground didn't reset. Henry assumed that went for fire as well. They'd be trapped with an endless burning fire right beneath their feet. Henry didn't want to imagine what issues that would cause.

All of it was in service of making sure the plan went off without a hitch. Today was the day they would enact it. After weeks of carefully planning and preparing, it all came down to Henry. He was, as you can imagine, nervous about the idea. Even with all of Mark's coaching, he wasn't convinced he could kill Pickaxe Pete. Despite that, he had no choice but to try. They couldn't risk postponing this any longer.

The entire group of them had left the cave that morning in a caravan of sorts. They brought most of the supplies they had. Wendy would bring the rest over several trips if everything went according to plan. Mark led the group past the center wheel down the road made from dirt. The terrain around the road quickly became a rocky canyon of reddish stone.

After only ten minutes of nervous movement, they reached the mining town of Shortrock. The town was a pitiful one by Henry's reckoning. He'd seen a few small towns like it in Texas. Places just on the edge of being ghost towns left behind by a changing world. Although the ones he knew were more trailer parks than Wild West. This town was distinctly the latter.

About forty buildings climbed up the side of the orangish red-banded stone cliffs. Most looked like small houses, not much larger than shacks. Their walls were made from either brick or wood. Almost all of them had silver-reflective roofs made from sheet metal. The few other buildings there were in the town seemed to be the typical sort you'd expect. As they moved through the town, Henry saw a couple of bars, a general store, a post office, and even a small bookstore.

In the distance, he could see three large smoke stacks rising from a large warehouse built into the hills. That had to be the coal processing plant. He knew enough about mining to know it would be close to the mine’s entrance. He could see wooden scaffolding running all around, supporting conveyor belts and other more antiquated contraptions. Shoots ran down the hill from the warehouses to loading stations above empty train tracks.

“I got to say, Mark. This place sure is trapped in the past,” Henry said.

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“Yeah. It was always like this. Never really moved past the 30s. Over the years, the coal mine was starting to run dry, and the money was going with it.”

“I see. It must have been a pretty boring place to grow up.”

“It was… but it had its moments. For as much as I hated them, there are times when I miss the mines… It's funny how you can go from hating a thing to being nostalgic for it.”

“And I thought Ohio sucked... It's no wonder you're such an asshole if you grew up in a sad place like this,” Chelsey said.

"Funny, Chelsey," Mark said with a dry smile.

***

They made their way through the old town up towards the mines. The closer they got, the more the smell of oil and coal filled the air. Mark seemed almost comforted by it. He seemed more at ease here than Henry had ever seen him.

Mark led them into the large warehouse through a large metal door. The inside of a mess of conveyor belts and piled coal. Pickaxes and mining helmets were scattered around as if workers had only just left them. Henry could hear the hum of machinery from somewhere deeper in the building.

They continued past coal and machinery until they reached a long tunnel. It led straight to the wall of the canyon. Henry could see the large mine entrance chiseled into the cliff face. Lining the wall of the tunnel were gas tanks and masks. They looked like scuba equipment, but much more ragged and with an older design. The mask didn't cover the eyes, only the mouth.

“These are your respirators. They're necessary to survive Pete and the mines in general. Without them, Pete will kill you in only a minute or two. It won't be a pleasant death, either. Trust me, it's painful,” Mark said.

Mark held up the respirator and then pushed it into Henry’s hands.

“Remember, you only have so much oxygen in a tank. Since we aren't actively mining yet, you shouldn't need it unless you encounter Pete. If your bird starts acting strange, you put on your mask and turn on the oxygen,” Mark said.

“You have to show him how, love,” Grace said.

“Right. Sorry.”

Mark pulled out an oxygen tank and then screwed it into the respirator. He quickly turned a valve, and oxygen began to hiss into the mask.

“Did you follow that?” Mark asked.

Henry nodded.

“Good, you wear this like a backpack.”

“I got it... I think I'm ready,” Henry said as he pulled the oxygen tank onto his back.

They moved up to the mine's entrance in silence. Each of them was nervous about how this would go. They had a lot riding on this plan.

“How do I find Pete?” Henry asked as he stepped onto the elevator platform.

“That’s the easy part. Pickaxe Pete will know the second there's someone in his mine. Trust me, he'll find you.”

Henry gave him a nervous smile. Mark placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You've got this. You're ready,” Mark said.

“Alright, send me down,” Henry said.

“Don't forget to tie off the guide rope. And remember, if you get his mask off, that's it. He'll only survive for a few minutes at most.”

Henry nodded. He took a deep breath. Mark flipped a switch, and the elevator rattled to life. It slowly began its shambling descent into darkness.

“Good luck!” Chelsey called out.

Henry barely heard her over the rattling of the elevator. He gripped his spear tightly. Pickaxe Pete would be down there, waiting to kill him. He checked the birdcage tied to his belt. His little golden songbird was in the middle of grooming its feathers. It hardly seemed bothered by their descent into hell. Henry steeled himself and got control of his nerves. He'd fought a burning knight ripped right from hell. If he could survive that, then he could survive this too.