When Derrick forced him out of the boot and stole his phone, Osian had thought a bullet was next on the agenda. Life hadn’t flashed before his eyes. Dannel had.
Their life together. He wanted to weep and punch Derrick right in the face. More the latter than the former.
He’d expected to be shot. Staring into the dank abyss of a mid-century well that was behind an old church hadn’t been even close to what he’d thought would happen. I am not ready for this to be some bizarre origin story in my superhero journey.
They’d definitely travelled further across London than Osian anticipated. He’d obviously been in the boot longer than he thought. Where are we? I definitely don’t remember this church.
“Get in.” Derrick gestured with the pistol.
“I’m sorry. What?” Osian stared between the gun and the well. “Get. In?”
“You heard me perfectly well. Hop in the well. It’s not deep enough to kill you.” Derrick’s assurance didn’t make Osian feel better. “Would you rather be shot?”
Are those my only options?
What are my options?
Jump in feet first? Head first? Let the wanker push me into the well? Or attempt a controlled climb on wet stones in the dark?
What could possibly go wrong?
None of the possibilities were brilliant. Going into the well did have the added bonus of not being shot in the head. Osian wished he’d been able to keep his phone.
He placed a hand on the edge of the well. Slick bricks. Worst rapper in history. Focus on not dying, Osian.
Taking a deep breath, Osian climbed over the edge of the well. Thank the building gods someone used rough stone for this well. He managed to find footholds almost immediately.
Moving down quickly, Osian got his hands out of the way with a second to spare before Derrick slid a metal grating across the top of the well. Brilliant. A safety grill. I’m confident it’ll do wonders for me.
“Osian?”
Am I hallucinating?
“Ian?” Osian tried to lower himself to the bottom as quickly and safely as possible. He landed in a puddle of water and had to feel around to find his elderly neighbour. “Of all the wells in the world, you had to walk into mine.”
“He made me jump into the well.”
Osian knelt beside Ian. His eyes were slowly getting accustomed to the darkness, but he still couldn’t make out much. “Where do you hurt?”
“My soul aches.” Ian repeatedly coughed, then groaned.
“I can’t do triage on your soul, Ian.”
“A pity, darling. I’d enjoy watching the attempt.” Ian paused for dramatic effect. “The seeing part might be difficult at the moment.”
“I’m going to check your body for any breaks.”
“Feel me up, darling,” Ian encouraged.
With a sigh, Osian did his best to gently check him over. Ian, thankfully, hadn’t broken any bones on the way down, aside from potentially a couple of toes. It was difficult to assess in the dark without making things worse.
Despite the summer heat outside, Ian started to shiver. Osian hoped he wasn’t going into shock. He didn’t really have any options to help Ian from inside a well.
Someone’s got to be looking for us by now.
I had my phone on long enough for them to track.
“You’ve been a lovely neighbour to a lonely old man like myself.” Ian continued to shiver beside him. The damp wasn’t helping. “You and Dannel.”
“Ian.” Osian sat beside Ian, trying to provide body heat to keep him warm. “We’re going to be rescued.”
“I can’t go on.”
“Ian.”
“Do you know how many death scenes I’ve practised over the years?” He sounded proud of the accomplishment. “Allow me a little pleasure in a dark place.”
“Ian.” Osian shushed him urgently. “I thought I heard something.”
As Ian fell silent, Osian tried to catch any sound beyond the water dripping around them and their own breathing. There. Footsteps. And muffled voices. Was it Derrick coming back with an accomplice?
Or had the police tracked the last location on his phone?
“What do we do?” Ian whispered urgently.
“Twenty-million-pound question, isn’t it?” Osian kept his voice down. “If we can hear them, maybe they’ll be able to hear us?”
Weighing the risks, Osian decided to chance it. He bellowed at the top of his lungs. Ian’s hand gripped his tightly.
After a few minutes, Osian heard the sound of the metal safety grill scraping against brick before a little ray of light filtered down. He shielded Ian from the stray bits of stone pelting them from above.
“Mr Garey?”
Osian didn’t recognise the voice but from the tone assumed it was a first responder of some sort. “Yes. Ian Barrett’s down here with me. He’s going to need medical attention. And I’d really like to get out of this sodding well.”
In the course of his career as a paramedic, Osian had witnessed a variety of rescues. None had involved a well. He waited patiently, helping secure Ian into the harness to be eased up first.
Ten minutes of careful work by first responders saw both of them safely out of the well. Osian watched over Ian, waiting for the paramedics to arrive. He heard a commotion across the street and caught sight of what appeared to be Dannel and Haider struggling with someone in the hedgerow.
“You stupid git.”
Osian glanced over to find Roland storming toward him. “Glad to see you alive as well.”
Roland grabbed him in a tight embrace. “What part of don’t go running off alone have you failed to understand?”
“We weren’t alone. Three of us were together.”
“Pity one of you happened to be the killer,” Roland pointed out helpfully. “Danny’ll be over in a moment. He’s trying to feed Derrick his teeth.”