Fourth Debt
Page 32

My ears rang with bickering.
I didn’t know the man, but the girl reminded me of my sister. A little girl who I’d loved since childhood but also drove me nuts. She’d constantly pinch my favourite toys and hide them where I could never find them.
She ran circles around Kes and me. Driving us mad, proving that love wasn’t enough to protect an infuriating sister from retaliation—usually in the form of frogs in her bed or beetles on her cereal.
I attempted a smile, thinking of happier times.
The light went out, followed by a scraping noise.
“Now, turn that gauge to the left and that to the right. See those two lines…that’s the ideal ratio.”
“Fine. Done. Now what?”
“Now, I want to work the wand.”
“What? No way.”
Something clanged off the earthen walls. My ears twitched, reminding me they still worked, even when other parts of me didn’t. I’d long since stopped feeling the soft splash of internment droplets on my forehead or tensing when a fresh wash of agony bathed my skin with fever.
“Pick me up and then give me the wand. Got it?”
“God, you’re such an arse.”
“Kind of you to notice. Now…pick me up.”
“But it should be me who—”
“Why? Because you’re male and playing with power tools is a man’s job?”
A heavy sigh. “No…because it’s—”
“Look, the original plan was for me to use the torch. If you hadn’t gone all ‘He-man’ on me, they’d be free and halfway to London by now.”
Silence again.
For a while, minutes swept me away, granting that odd sensation of no time passing but hours slipping anyway.
“They’re probably already dead. They haven’t moved since we started this.”
A livid curse littered the rank air. “If they don’t make it, our bargain is over. I promised Nila would be safe if you helped me rescue my brothers. If they die…why should I honour that?”
Nila…
The name…
Like an angel.
Nila…
My heart suddenly woke up. Shedding death, sending lethargic blood through my veins.
Nila.
Mine.
The woman I want but failed.
“Threads is walking out of here—regardless if they don’t.”
“Guess the only way to know for sure is to bust my brothers out of here before it’s too late.”
I sucked in a useless breath—it was like breathing cremated ash.
Before, the void I existed in had no emotion, no feeling to suck me dry. But these two people? Fuck. They had so much to say and no correct words in which to say it. The woman wept with helplessness and despair, hiding it beneath bluster and rage. The man…he was just as helpless and lost; only he wrapped his in confusion and disbelief.
“Alright, alright, I get your point.” Boots thudded on the dirt floor. “How should I do it again?”
A derisive laugh trilled, chasing back ghouls and monsters. “I told you how. Arms under my knees and around my shoulders. You can’t break me.”
“No, but I’ve heard about people like you—”
“People like me?”
“Shit, I just meant people with your—”
“My disability—is that what you were going to say? People like ‘me’ who can’t feel anything below their waist?”
An awkward cough. “I just meant, I know you can bruise easily and it’s not so simple to heal like a normal—”
“Wow, this just gets better and better. You’re saying I’m not normal?!”
“Whoa, fucking chill—”
“You know what? I don’t have time for this. Pick me up, give me the damn torch, and shut the hell up. When they’re safe in the hospital then we can discuss the politically appropriate ways to discuss my condition. Got it?”
A deep sigh. “Fine.”
I couldn’t make sense of anything.
What the hell did this mean?
Was my brain playing tricks? Giving me an angst-loaded argument, all for what? To keep me strained enough to stay lucid? Or were there truly two people trying to save me?
“There. You okay?”
“I’ll be okay once we get them out of here. Right, hand me the wand.”
A pause.
“Good. Take me closer.”
A few seconds later, the hissing began. I wanted to raise my head and see. But all I could do was bask in the meagre happiness the sound gave and slip again.
The brightness suddenly flared, cutting past my eyelids, imprinting on my retinas. No talking, no bickering, only the licking of flames against whatever enemy it destroyed.
Time skipped again—like a faulty record, jumping ahead, screeching backward, never playing the track in order.
“You’re almost there,” the man said.
Almost on cue, a snapping sounded, followed by a skeletonish groan.
“Ah, see. How little you trust me.”
More shuffling. “I take it back. You’re a girl, and you know how to use power tools.”
“Damn right, I do.”
Silence fell except for the occasional footfall and clang of metal on metal.
I sighed as the tempers eddying around me faded as companionship and victory stole their frustration. Inner peace settled, and I gave up trying to hold on.
The excitement disappeared, giving me a body that was cold, hungry, and riddled with pain.