| |
Scraping echoed around the chamber, disturbing Wiri from his nightmare. Phoenix stood over him, her features grey with grief. “I kissed him,” she whispered. “It meant nothing.”
He jerked away from her and clattered his head against the wall of the tank. A dart of pain shot through his neck and into his skull. It blossomed outward to encompass his ears before swan diving into his spine. He groaned and shifted position, blinking into the darkness as numbness turned to tingling in his buttocks and thighs.
“Wiremu?” A woman’s voice echoed into the tank, her tone light and high. “Wiremu, are you there?” Her city accent shortened the vowel sounds, and he recognised Seline’s voice. She grunted again and dragged the concrete cover sideways a little more. The surfaces grated together, a deafening, teeth grinding sound. “I can’t lift the whole thing off. It’s too heavy.” She swore and a loud clang rung Wiri’s head like a gong. “Sorry. It fell off the chimney-thing,” she admitted. “It’s dented the roof.”
“I’m stuck,” he croaked, coughing as his throat locked the words into his chest.
“Are you okay?” Her petulant tone demanded an answer. “Vaughan’s hurt.”
“Help!” he managed. “Get help.” His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he yearned to stick his face under a tap. “Water,” he called, managing only the single plea.
As though heaven responded, drips pelted his nose and forehead where he lay. Seline withdrew her head and shoulders from the opening and Wiri groaned against the sense of aloneness which rushed to occupy the gap. But the absence of her shape seemed to make the drips heavier and faster, cascading into his eyes and his mouth with abandon. “Just a drink,” he murmured. “Not a bath.”
Water pattered over his forehead and ran down his neck into his tee shirt. It seemed just a few minutes before cold gripped his body in violent shivers and he wished it would stop. It seeped into the healing scratch on the back of his right hand and attacked the sore finger on the other. “No more,” he rasped. “Too much.”
But Seline didn’t return to the opening and as Wiri’s eyes adjusted to the light, he realised it wasn’t still sunny above ground. As he lay staring up at freedom, he finally registered the angry clouds overhead and the occasional blinding flash of lightning forking through the sky. His pupils widened, and he saw it wasn’t bright at all, but a murky, threatening grey. “Oh, God, help me,” he pleaded. “Seline! Seline! Where are you?”
She didn’t reply again. Wiri lay on his side at the bottom of the tank. It hurt too much to sit upright, his spine alternating between darting twinges and a breath-taking ache. The fresh air brought him comfort. She’d abandoned him, but at least Seline left the hatch open. Wiri bent his left arm and laid his cheek against it, stemming the panic by pretending he lay in his own bed in the room next to Phoenix. He closed his eyes and imagined the day he left, picking over their conversation before he set off on his journey south. It seemed a lifetime ago. She’d kissed him of her own volition, stepping from the graveyard and pressing her lips against his. Her passion ignited a spark in his chest and he’d clung to its warmth with a bone deep craving. It governed every decision he’d made since that moment. He coughed into the mask, his body rocking and pain locking up his lungs. Logic challenged him, reminding him he’d conceived The Plan on his last birthday. When they’d euthanised his horse. And he’d kissed her the first time. They’d both known in that moment it could be no other way. Wiri and Phoenix against the world.
Water soaked through his jeans and lapped around his head, breaking him free of the daydream. The graveyard disappeared from his inner vision like dissipating fog. Ice cold water and a stained grey darkness replaced it. Wiri pushed himself up onto his left elbow, seeking the hatch opening through the gloom. Rain spattered onto the concrete beneath it, adding its weight to the growing flood. He blinked in the darkness, sating his fear with the promise he’d imagined it. The rain entering from above didn’t have the volume to create such a deepening pond. “It’s in your head,” he hissed to himself. “It’s not real.”
“He’s down here!” The female voice grew louder as it reverberated off the sides of the tank. Other sounds joined it, a cacophony of noise and the vibration of movement overhead.
“Wiremu?” He heard the strain in Leilah’s voice and scrabbled his feet against the floor. Grit skittered away to bounce against the broken shards of the torch. He eased himself onto his bottom with a groan and edged closer to the wall. Locking his spine against it, he used his legs to push himself to an upright position. It seemed to take forever until he could stagger back towards the circle of light near the edge of the tank. He bowed his head and covered his face, wiping rainwater from his eyelids. Noise sounded overhead, one indiscernible from another.
A siren.
Voices.
The clatter of something metal.
“Wiremu?” Leilah called again, her tone soft. “Are you okay?”
He squatted in the circle, reluctant to lose the light’s embrace, but he couldn’t lift his head to face the rain. “No,” he admitted, his voice hoarse.
His eyeballs ached when he rubbed them, airborne dust leaving a coating over his skin. He kept his left hand close to his body. He’d sacrifice more if he needed to, but his finger already burned from the gash.
“An ambulance is coming to take Vaughan to hospital.” Seline’s voice returned and concern gave it a gentler lilt. “Mum will go with him, but I’ll wait here with you.” She paused for a heartbeat and continued when Wiri didn’t reply. “Wiremu? Can you talk to me? I can hear the claxon for the volunteer firefighters. They’re scrambling them now. Listen.”
Wiri managed a reluctant grunt. The only thing stopping him from vomiting was the realisation he’d need to return to the darkness again to clear up his mess. It had stopped him urinating too, but not for Vaughan’s sake. He didn’t want to drink his diluted pee through the taps.
“Tell me something,” Seline urged. “What’s your girlfriend’s name?”
Wiri’s legs gave out, and he tipped backwards onto his bottom. His spine curved and the back of his head hit the floor. Gazing up at the light, he saw the silhouette of a woman, her pale arms waving in the entrance. Despite the seriousness of the moment, he laughed, the sound strangled and choking. He figured it beat the other alternative, sobbing.
“It’s not funny.” Exasperation entered her voice. “Are you hurt?”
Wiri blew out a breath and dragged the mask from his face. Warm air licked his skin like the first drips from a shower. “I’ve busted up some fingers.” He cleared his throat, realising he sounded drunk. “What’s wrong with Vaughan?”
Seline sniffed. “Not sure. Looks like he fell against the lip of the opening. The stitches in his stomach burst, and he knocked himself unconscious. Mum thinks he needs surgery.” Her tone quieted and Wiri saw her in profile as she looked at something in the distance.
He shook his head, grit grinding through his hair. Logic prevailed. Vaughan didn’t leave him there and close the lid. Wiri shut his eyes and remembered the cry Vaughan released as he dropped the ladder. Then the awful silence. “Just an accident,” he said to himself, slurring his words.
