Page 81 of Obscurity
They’d seen enough to understand the scope of what they were dealing with. The evidence on Olive’s phone could bring down the entire plan.
But only if they lived long enough to share it.
The footsteps came closer, accompanied by voices discussing shift changes and security protocols. Olive and Jason ducked behind a thick metal cart that had probably been left behind from coal-mining days.
“The next extraction cycle starts at 0200,” someone said. “And the surface operations should be completed before dawn.”
“Perfect,” another voice said. “Make sure the perimeter stays secure.”
The voices faded as the workers continued deeper into the facility.
Olive knew she and Jason couldn’t risk staying any longer. They’d pushed their luck far enough already.
They made their way back through the tunnel system, moving as quickly as they dared. The Guardian’s body still lay there. A crew hadn’t been back yet to clean up the crime.
But they’d be here soon—Olive was certain of it.
When she and Jason finally emerged from the mine entrance, the cool night air felt like freedom itself.
They hadn’t been caught.
Now they just had to keep it that way . . . unless they wanted to end up like the Guardian.
CHAPTER 59
Back in Grayfall, Olive noted that most people had apparently given up on the evening’s entertainment and retreated to their tents. Despite that, another terrible band performed in the distance—probably more “local talent” Brad had promised would make up for the missing headliners.
“We need to look at those photos you took earlier,” Jason said as they approached their tent. “Maybe they have the answers we need.”
Olive nodded, her adrenaline slowly fading as the magnitude of their discovery settled over her. They huddled inside their cramped tent and scrolled through the images she’d captured.
“Wait.” Jason pointed to one of the photos. “Go back to that last one.”
Olive found the image he was referring to—a schedule she’d photographed that detailed various operational phases and timing. As she studied it more carefully, a pattern emerged.
“Look at this.” She enlarged the text. “Six a.m. to eight a.m.—Surface Operations Minimal, Shift Change Window. And here—Security Patrols Reduced During Equipment Maintenance.”
Jason studied the schedule more carefully. “Those auxiliary facilities—they have to be those buildings near the migrant campwe spotted. If they’re doing weekly inspections, that means the buildings will be temporarily unoccupied.”
“It’s risky.” Even as Olive said the words, she could already see the possibility forming. “But it might be our only chance to find out what’s really happening to people like Hector.”
The missing worker’s fate had taken on new significance now that they’d seen the scope of the operation. If he’d discovered what they’d just discovered, his disappearance might not have been voluntary at all.
“Six a.m.,” Jason agreed. “We’ll need to move fast and be ready to get out quickly if things go wrong.”
As they sat in their compact tent, the photos from the mine still glowing on Olive’s phone screen, the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place with devastating clarity.
“The festival was never real,” she said quietly, scrolling through her photos. “It was just an elaborate cover.”
Jason looked up from studying the schedule they’d found. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it.” Olive’s voice grew more urgent as the connections formed in her mind. “All the heavy equipment Brad claimed was for ‘stage construction’—it was really mining machinery being moved into position. The helicopters supposedly bringing in musicians were actually transporting industrial supplies.”
“They needed an excuse for all the activity, all the noise, all the people coming and going,” Jason finished.
Nausea roiled inside Olive as she understood the scope of the deception. “What do you think they’re extracting?”
“I’m thinking maybe there are rare earth minerals that were found in those mine shafts. They’re using migrant workers, hiding the operation underground, and eliminating anyone who gets too close to the truth.”
