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Safety

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“You want me to go down there?” Wiri peered through the small manhole cover into the cavernous depths of the water tank. His voice echoed through the narrow tunnel and returned to him from the concrete void. He stepped back and studied the tank, uncomfortable with the three metres of earth which surrounded it from neck to base. Only fifty centimetres protruded above ground, clover and late daisies kissing the mottled grey sides. He stamped on the pitched concrete roof, testing its solidity.

“Don’t do that!” Vaughan objected. “You’ll be fine down there. It’s one of the safer ones. Made by a local guy.”

Wiri groaned. “Why does it have the tube thing on top? I don’t mind going into the tank, but why do I need to squeeze through the hatch thing?”

Vaughan shrugged. “It stops nosey people falling in, I guess. You’ve got to want to go in there. On purpose. It’s a safety feature. Cost my uncle a fortune when they first came on the market.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to be in there. On purpose or otherwise.” Sweat streaked Wiri’s brow, and he hopped down from the tank’s pitched roof and leaned against the side of the truck. The super-heated chassis burned through his tee shirt at the shoulder. Exhaustion nipped at his ankles. He’d already dug twelve holes in the baked earth and helped to bury new fence posts. His right hand ached where stretching the wire had stressed the tendons. Dirt caused a scratch on the back of his right hand to smart. He figured Hendricks left it there in the supermarket when he’d scrabbled for release from the choke hold.

Vaughan shrugged. “It’s an hour’s job. Less if you hurry up and get on with it. We’ll stop for lunch afterwards.” He held out a rope attached to a fabric harness. “Come on, chop chop.” He pushed the bundle into Wiri’s hands.

The teenager’s brows tugged into an anxious line. “You go down there if it’s such a quick job. I’ll make sure you’re okay.” Carabiners clanked together in his arms.

“I already went down there.” Vaughan jerked his head towards the hole. “Who do you think cleaned the bugger in the first place?”

Wiri swallowed, hiding his shaking hands beneath the mess of rope and harness as Vaughan strained to lower the ladder into the vault. It clattered against the sides of the tunnel, the sound reverberating off the walls until it intensified in his mind like a continuous vibration.

“There you go.” Vaughan stepped back and nodded towards the hole. “I can’t plaster to save my life. You said on your CV that you’d done maintenance jobs.” He raised a black eyebrow as though in challenge. “Prove it.”

Wiri blew out a ragged breath and licked his lips. “Fine!” he growled. “How will you pass the stuff down to me once I get in there?”

Metal clattered as Vaughan lifted a bucket from the back of the truck. A piece of rope attached to the handle contained a tub of ready-mixed cement and a trowel. A heavy torch balanced on the top of the motley implements. “I’ll lower and raise things in this.” His black eyebrows waggled beneath the brim of his cap. “I might even send down your lunch if you don’t shift yourself.”

With no alternative, Wiri stepped into the harness and Vaughan tied the safety rope onto the anchor beneath the truck. “That’s going nowhere,” he said, rising with a sigh. Not trusting his safety to another, Wiri checked the knot and used Vaughan’s distraction to hide his phone beneath the loose base inside his cooler bag. He delayed, tugging on the rope and frowning until Vaughan’s tone became snippy. “Just get in, dude!” he exclaimed. “There’s a ladder and a rope. You need an escort as well?”

Wiri stepped up to the tank and clambered onto the angled roof. The rope trailed along the ground behind him, slithering in his wake. Long enough to allow him to descend and walk around the tank’s interior unimpeded, it represented a lifeline to freedom.

The presence of the narrow circular chimney created a slender viewing window for assessing the contents of the water tank. The ladder narrowed the aperture even more. Wiri rested his palms on the lip of the tunnel and peered down into the void. “You sure it’s totally empty?” He held his breath and dragged his courage to the fore, knowing he’d need it once he descended into the dark space. “Have you disconnected the feeder pipes?” He squinted at a white tube which left the concrete, made a ninety-degree turn and disappeared beneath the earth.

Vaughan shook his head. “No need. This takes the water from the hay barn over there.” He lifted his muscular arm and pointed at a building less than fifty metres away. Its open side revealed a season’s worth of hay stacked to ceiling height. The narrow pitch of the roof finished in a length of guttering to collect the rainwater from its wide expanse. It fed into a down-pipe fixed to the front right wall. Vaughan snorted. “If you piss in there, you’ll have to drink it because it supplies your house.”

Wiri sighed as he inspected the blue sky with a shrug. A single cumulus cloud hugged the highest of the mountain’s three summits. Like a cherry on a cake. He peered into the void below the inspection hatch and resisted the urge to yell into it like a child and revel in the echo of his voice.

The edge of the ladder protruded from the opening, reducing the width his body would need to fit through and descend. Wiri wrinkled his nose, wondering how Vaughan had pushed his muscular torso down through the gap in order to stand at the bottom and hose the walls.

The vibration of hooves echoed around the tank, knocking against the concrete and rising to his ears like a drum beat. Wiri rose with a violent exhale, almost losing his footing on the pitch of the roof.

“Hey guys.” Leilah drew up next to the truck, free riding a bay mare whose rolling eyes displayed an inherent nervousness. Leilah’s slender legs hugged the mare’s burgeoning winter coat, her boots hanging without the stability of saddle or stirrups. A loose rope halter replaced a bridle, and she rode like a Du Rose. Healed scars covered the mare’s body and the wrinkled corners of her tender lips bore colouration changes. Someone with hard hands had hauled on a snaffle until she’d bled. Wiri studied the mare and felt the familiar up-tick of his heartbeat at the sight of cruelty. He frowned and Leilah smiled at him. The sun rose in her face and Wiri found himself smiling back, appreciating the inner beauty which radiated from her. She fitted the mare, her body at one with the half ton of horseflesh which obeyed her will. “We didn’t do this,” she said, her tone soft. Holding the rope from the halter in her left hand, she used the other to pat the mare’s sweating neck. Soft ears flicked back and forth in response.

“Who did?” Wiri demanded. Standing on the protruding roof of the tank put him at eye level with the mare. She tossed her black mane and stretched her muzzle towards the scrubby grass. Leilah lengthened the rope and let her nip the weak blades, her hand resting against her thigh.

“Long story,” she replied, her gaze flicking to Vaughan. He blinked, his eyelashes grazing his cheeks as he cocked his head. His expression softened until he resembled an adoring puppy. Wiri swallowed as the intensity of their connection locked him out of their intimacy. Leilah’s lips curved into a sad smile, dropping as she sensed Wiri staring at her. “Let’s just say my husband rescued me at the same time as he liberated Hinga,” she said, clearing her throat at the end of the sentence.

A second set of hooves pummelled the earth and Seline cantered her gelding over the rounded crest above them. Her horse wore an English saddle and bridle and she stood in the stirrups as they moved onto the downhill camber. A riding hat covered in black velvet ended in a neat chin strap and she’d swapped the indecent tee shirt for a blouse. The grey dappled Appaloosa suited her. “I thought you might fall off,” she said to Leilah, her condescending words fitting around ragged breaths.

Leilah grinned. She appeared glued to the ribs on either side of the mare’s spine, her posture relaxed. It looked impossible to separate her from the horse, but she didn’t dispel her daughter’s concerns.

“Wiri is just gonna mend the cracks in the tank.” Vaughan waved his hand towards the concrete. “We can’t afford for the winter rains to burst right through it.”

Leilah nodded. She smiled at Wiri with gratitude. “Thank you.” She said it as though her husband hadn’t contracted to pay him for every filthy task. Her nose wrinkled. “It’s a horrible job.”

“He’ll be fine.” Vaughan brushed off her sympathy with a brusqueness, which made her frown.

“Well, don’t let me catch you down there.” Her tone held a warning. She jerked her head towards Vaughan’s midriff. “If your stitches open up again, I’m calling an ambulance and making sure it drives slowly through town with the sirens on full blast.”

Vaughan winced and Wiri read the discomfort in the down turn of his lips. He didn’t strike him as a man who liked to advertise his weaknesses. As Leilah winked at Wiri, he sensed her playing to her advantage. His loyalty to Vaughan forced a response. He gave her a dismissive wave and, throwing his shoulders back, faked courage he didn’t feel. Ignoring Seline’s raised eyebrow, he turned back to the tank.

“I’m all good,” he said, wishing the sentiment into reality. He jerked his head at Vaughan and dragged the rope behind him to create a decent length of slack. “Are we doing this, or what?”