Chapter Ten

 

Rad's head throbbed. He opened his eyes and blinked several times, trying to focus. High above shone a hazy glow of light. It funneled like a fine mist down the cylindrical concrete walls of his abandoned dry bore. He vaguely remembered the masked men lowering Toni and him into the well on a pulley-deck. The men didn't want to kill them, or they would’ve dropped them the thirty-feet without using the device. Instead the vipers used it and dumped them onto the mud at the well’s bottom, then removed the apparatus.

The ache radiating into his skull verfied a head injury. He must’ve bumped his head on the side of the well during the descent. The good news: other than a groggy head, a soreness all over, and a stiffness from being in one position too long, he’d live.

How long had he been down here? When he lifted his shoulders, he became aware of Toni's limp body lying on top of him. Her hair lay in silky ribbons over the left side of his face and neck, and her soft breast rested against his chest.

She lay so still. An icy panic gripped him. He tried to close his arms around her and discovered his wrists were tied behind his back.

“Toni!”

“Ummm...”

He exhaled, relieved to hear her soft moan and feel the slight movement of her breasts against his chest.

“Toni!” He felt her lift from his chest, then slumped back against him. “Speak to me, damn it!”

“Wha...What happened?”

The tremor in her voice stirred emotions, and a pulse of tension tightened his jaw muscle. This was his fault. He hadn't anticipated the attack. But Toni had. She knew her business. Unfortunately, it wasn't until the lariat knocked the gun from her hand that he'd realized she'd drawn it. His guilt diminished as reality washed over him. The attack had come too quickly for them to react. They hadn't had a chance in hell to ward it off.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I think so.”

“Stay close to me. When the sun goes down the temperature drop will be unbearable. Franz Josef Glacier will be warm in comparison.”

“Nothing like regaining consciousness to good news.” Her voice wavered.

Her tough retort didn't fool him, yet he admired her grit. “We have to get out of here.”

“How?”

The vulnerability in her tone strengthened his growing protective instinct. He frantically twisted at the ropes on his wrists. He expanded his chest in anger. “Are your hands tied?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” He inhaled. “Stay calm.”

“I am calm,” she said in an infuriatingly reasonable tone.

“Good. Then do exactly as I say. Our lives depend on it. Move my jacket aside with your head, then put your tongue into my shirt pocket.”

“What did you say?” Her voice rose as if in disbelief.

“There are two whistles in there. Work the thin wood one out slowly, catch the rounded end with your teeth, then put the narrow lip-piece into my mouth.”

“The dogs! How clever. But will they hear the call to action from down here?”

Her instant grasp of how he planned to use the whistles warmed his heart. “You'd better hope so. It's our only chance.”

Rad closed his eyes as she pushed his jacket aside with her nose. He felt the heat of her breath filter through his shirt. He couldn't stop the reflexive tightening in his groin. She worked the whistles to the top of his pocket with her nose. He shook his head. Even though it wasn't the way he'd instructed, her method worked. He fought his quick arousal. “Could you hurry it up?”

She stiffened, and her movements turned rough. Silent hostility radiated from her like a heater set on high. Her upward stroking from the bottom of his pocket brushed his nipple. Oh, hell. She was giving him a hard time and probably enjoying every minute of it.

Under different circumstances she’d be in real trouble. But this wasn't a bedroom game. This was serious. Tukaha expected them to be gone most of the day, so he wouldn't worry until dark. When he did look for them, he wouldn't look here. No one ever came near this bore anymore.

It was getting cooler, and a dampness rose from the mud floor. He could stand the lower temperatures of nightfall, but what about this townie? She was a soft city woman. He felt her moving against him, very soft. And arousing. He felt an inappropriate heat surge to his crotch.

“Um!” she said with the whistle between her teeth. Even in the dim light he saw the annoyance in her eyes. Impatient wench. He bent his head until all that separated their lips was the whistle. Her breath was warm and sweet. A fragrance of roses wafted over him as she eased the small wood cylinder between his lips. The unexpected gentleness gave him the sensation of being kissed. Once he had a firm grip on the whistle she moved away. A sense of loss washed over him. He tilted his head upward and blew hard.

“I didn't hear anything,” she said.

He slid the slender cylinder to the side of his mouth to talk. “The sound is higher than human hearing,” he mumbled. “The important thing is that one of the dogs hears it.”

“We need a back up plan in case the whistle alert doesn't work.”

With her back against the wall and using her legs, she pushed herself to a standing position. The dim light was fading; soon he wouldn't be able to see her silhouette. She moved around, and up and down the wall slowly, inch by inch. Finally she stopped. “Rad, I found a crack. The protruding jagged edge might cut the rope.”

This spunky pakeha was made of tougher substance than he'd thought. Another woman might have waited for him to get them out. But not her. He hated to admit to how much she was like his grandmother. He'd have to be blind not to see it.

Rad blew the whistle again, harder, longer. His head ached from blowing so hard. He paused for a second.

“I’ve looped the rope over the jagged edge!” she said. “Cross your fingers.”

She tenaciously worked the ropes against the sharp edge. Her rose fragrance floated around him. He’d tried not to like her. The truth was he liked her a great deal. His strong attraction to her didn't make sense. He wasn't partial to auburn hair. He liked the long black hair of the Maori women.

He laughed to himself when he thought of the Maori recipe for choosing a wife. Marry the woman with nimble fingers and feet, one who spends her free time at the flax clumps. Leave alone the woman who is nimble with her lips. While Toni had nimble fingers and feet, she wasn't the type to spend time at flax clumps. And her aggressive, outspoken lips were as nimble as any woman he'd ever known. What made him think of the saying? He wasn't in the market for a wife. All he wanted was to get out of there and save his land.

He blew the whistle again, praying to Atua that the sound wasn’t trapped in the bore with them.

Toni stood on her toes, sliding her wrists up and down on the sharp edge. Anyone else would’ve given up by now. He didn't think she'd get loose, but it kept her busy and probably a little warmer. “Give it a rest, and let me give it a try.”

“Not necessary. I did it!” He felt her hand on his shoulder. “Lean forward. I'll untie you.”

He shook his head. She was incredible! He shouldn't have doubted her. Her deft fingers worked quickly, yanking, pulling. Soon, he felt his ropes fall away.

“Now how do we climb out of here?” Her tone carried staunch determination.

“I hate to disappoint you,” he said, standing, “But it’ll take a miracle to get out.”

“There must be something we can do.”

Suddenly Rad felt a coolness at his feet. Water seeped up from the mud floor. “We have a new problem.”

“It's water!” Her voice rose. “Where’s it coming from?”

“Must’ve started raining. With a hard, constant downpour the water table rises. I've seen as much as two meters seep into a bore in a few hours.”

“That's over six feet! We can't just wait to drown.”

Rad watched Toni try to get a toe-hold on the concrete wall. Her boot slipped. He steadied her, so she wouldn't fall into the water. She’d get soaked soon enough. When she pulled away, he felt that twinge of loss again. Holding her had felt good. For an instant it gave him the illusion he was in control, that he could make everything right for her. The feeling didn't last.

“Maybe if we yell someone’ll hear us.” She started yelling. “Help. Help. Down here!”

She paused, took a breath and started again. Her voice became hoarse. Her efforts proved useless, but he admired her tenacity.

A rumble of thunder wiped out Toni's cries for help. Above, lightning flashed and illuminated the lip of the bore.

Icy water crept up to his knees and Toni's thighs. She was shivering, yet she didn't complain. Damn it! Men were supposed to protect women. But how could he fight an ambush he hadn't seen coming, and how could he get her out of this bore before the water rose over their heads?

He couldn't give up on their only chance. He blew his whistle, determined to keep blowing as long as he had a trace of breath.