We walk off the job. And nothing happens.

Which is really the point of a strike, actually. The early shift meets up at the usual spot, but instead of heading down into the mine, they leave and go to The Shaft. Most of the union’s there, minus a few guys from last night’s last shift.

And everyone’s in a good fucking mood.

“Looks like they’re gonna cave,” Roy says, grinning his head off, already on his second whiskey of the day. “I mean, they haven’t done shit, right? And they got that order.”

I nod, frowning. They haven’t done shit, that’s true. Ingram threatened to hurt us, but he hasn’t done anything, which doesn’t seem like him. I know he has the means and the ability to cause damage, not to mention the desire, but there’s nothing. As far as I can tell, all the guys are fine and accounted for.

Which is what worries me. I drink some coffee, not in the mood to get drunk with the other guys this early.

I keep thinking about Amelia. I know she’s trying to help us, but she’s so unprepared and powerless. I can’t blame her though, she got thrown into the middle of this violent, insane situation, and she’s doing the best she can. But still, she can’t help, and I know this is all on me.

“You’re not celebrating,” Roy notes, shifting in his seat toward me, the smile on his face gone.

“Not yet,” I say. “We don’t have a contract.”

He sighs. “You can’t celebrate any victories, can you?”

“Just doesn’t feel like a victory, is all.” I look around the room. “Why hasn’t Ingram done anything?”

“He’s all talk, maybe,” Roy says.

“Nah,” I answer. “I got the bruises to prove he means business.”

“Maybe your plan worked.”

I shrug a little, unsure. Ever since Ingram threatened us, I ordered all mine union members to go everywhere in groups of at least three, the idea being that they’re safer in numbers. It was a pain in the ass for a couple of days, always trying to get groups together, but we did a pretty good job of it. Maybe that’s what kept Ingram at bay.

But I’m not so sure. Ingram’s just not the kind of guy to back off like this, for any reason. I have this terrible feeling in my gut, and it’s just not going away.

“Maybe this isn’t about Ingram after all,” Roy says, raising an eyebrow.

I look at him. “What do you mean?”

“We all know what you think about the new CEO.”

I sigh. “This again?”

“I’m just saying, she’s not on our side. This strike is probably making her look bad.”

I hadn’t thought about that. “She understands why we’re doing it.”

“Does she? Does she really?” Roy leans toward me. “We’ve been shit on our whole lives. Does she understand that?”

I meet his gaze, but I don’t answer. I don’t know if she gets it, but I think she does. I just know I can’t convince Roy of that, and I’m not going to bother trying. The guys all have their own opinions of Amelia, and although they don’t know her at all, they just see a rich girl that’s totally out of touch with reality.

I’ve tried to bring her around, get the guys to know her. Some of them have tried, and I appreciate it, but in the end I’m the only one that really can see her. I’m the only one that really knows how she’s working for us, not against us.

As I sip my coffee, thinking about how I’ll answer Roy, someone bursts in through the door. People look over as Boone comes in, limping over toward me.

“Samuel!” he shouts. “Goddamn it, Samuel!”

I drop my cup onto the bar and stand. “What happened?”

Boone looks bad. He’s limping, one hand on his ribs, face clearly smashed up. He’s bleeding from a cut on his head. “They fucking came this morning,” he says. “Kicked down my fucking door.”

I walk over to him. “Shit, sit down.”

The whole room’s silent and watching. A couple of guys come over, help Boone into a chair. Someone comes over with whiskey for him as the group crowds around.

“What happened?” I ask him.

“Three guys kicked down my door this morning wearing masks. Said I’d better get back to work, or they’d kill me next. Beat me fucking senseless.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Ingram.”

“You need to go to the hospital,” Roy says.

“Fuck hospitals. You think I can afford that shit?” Boone sips his whiskey. “Vernon, where’s that wife of yours?”

“I’ll call her,” Vernon says, walking off.

I stare at Boone and slowly back away. I should have seen this coming. Boone’s part of the team that worked late last night. He was probably at home, ready to get to bed, when those fuckers came and hurt him.

“Arnold, Mike, Seamus,” I call out. The three guys look over at me. “Go check on the other late-shift guys. Take more men and split up. Hurry.”

They get serious and start grabbing shirts, pulling guys along with them. Half the room clears out as they go to check on the other late-shifters, make sure they’re okay.

Boone seems okay, or at least not on the verge of dying. I walk away from him, over to the bar. I slam back my coffee, thinking.

“This isn’t your fault,” Roy says. “We knew this might happen.”

“I shouldn’t have let them be alone,” I say angrily.

“Not your fault. Besides, we haven’t been making people stay in groups, just travel in them.”

I clench my jaw. “I gotta go. Take over from here.”

“Wait, hold on.”

I don’t listen to what he has to say. I leave the bar, hurry out into the parking lot. I get into my truck and pull out of there, driving fast through traffic, heading toward the Evans Energy offices.

I get there in record time, throwing my truck into a spot. I get out, slamming the door, angry as fucking hell. I need to see Amelia, tell her what happened, make her do something to stop Ingram.

But I don’t make it inside, because three guys in suits come walking out of the front doors and bar my way.

“Who the fuck are you?” I ask them, but I recognize one of the lawyers from the meeting before. “Better get the fuck out of my way, suits.”

The lawyer grins at me and flashes a shoulder holster. There’s a gun in there. “Fuck off,” he says.

I growl at him. “Last chance, asshole.”

The three guys step closer to me. I’m hurt, my rib’s not fully healed yet, but I’m twice the size of the biggest of them and I’m fucking pissed. This time, they’re not jumping me. This time, they gotta be afraid.