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His silver eyes met hers in a challenge. “Yeah, you lied to me. You told me I could always count on you. What was that if it wasn’t a lie?”
6
Magenta knelt on the floor beside Harry. Making sure they didn’t touch. His words had felt like a knife slicing into her. The cut cold and clean. The pain precise.
“I was thirteen,” she said. “Nobody means what they say when they’re thirteen.”
“I did. I meant everything I said to you when we were kids.”
She almost reached for him then. “You’re special, Harry. You’ve always been special. The rest of us will never meet your standards.” She took a deep breath and, without thinking, put a hand on his knee. He stilled at her touch, as though the complete focus of his super brain was suddenly on her. She snatched her hand away. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
“I can’t. It doesn’t make any sense to move from this spot. The tonnage of rock and dirt increases as you go deeper into the mine. Abandoned mines are notoriously dangerous. Without regular maintenance they’re prone to collapse, or flooding, or a build-up in dangerous gasses. The people who made this mine didn’t have equipment to survey the hill to make structurally sound decisions. The reinforcements here alone are enough to give an engineer nightmares. I can’t go further without a proper assessment. And I can’t do that without the correct equipment. I’ve made a visual survey of this area. I don’t like some of the things I see. But I figure my best chance of surviving a cave-in is here, near the entrance, so people can get to me fast to dig me out. Unless, of course, there is a massive sudden collapse, in which case I estimate I’ll be pancaked before I can worry about rescue.”
Magenta felt he
r heart sink. “You researched this before you came in here, didn’t you?”
“What else was I supposed to do?”
“Please tell me you didn’t read Wikipedia and believe everything in it.”
“Do I look like an idiot? I checked the NSS website.”
“The American caving group.” She hung her head. “You prepared for this, didn’t you? Where’s your backpack?”
He pointed to the corner. She didn’t even have to look in it to know that the contents would be the recommended list he’d found on the website.
“You do know we’re not actually caving, right? We’re in a mine. The entrance of a mine.”
He folded his arms over his broad chest, making his shoulders bulge. For a second she had an urge to bite them. Hard. She shook it off.
“Mines are worse than caves. Solution caves are the safest caves by far. The water cuts through the limestone so slowly that they are really stable. Old and stable. They hardly ever collapse. Do you have any idea how often old mines collapse?”
She didn’t, but she was pretty sure Harry did. “Get a grip, Harry. You’re being irrational. This mine is safe. I’ve been coming here for years. I wouldn’t lead you into danger. Stop being a wimp and get your backside in gear. I’ve got better things to do than coax you into leaving.”
He folded his arms and gave her that same stubborn look he’d given her when they were kids. “You go. I’ll stay.” He gestured to the basket. “I have food. Water. More than enough for two days.”
Magenta dug her fingers into her hair and tugged it. “I can’t leave you here. I’m the rescue. I came in here to get you.”
“Thanks. I mean it. I appreciate the effort. But I’m staying right here.”
Magenta shot to her feet. The urge to kick him was strong. “You have got to be the most infuriating man on the planet. You’ve been harassing me to talk to you for weeks, and here I am. All you have to do is walk out with me and we can talk all the way back through the mine.” She snatched her bag up from the ground. “This is your last chance. You need to get up and follow me or I’m leaving without you. And you can kiss goodbye to any chat we might have.”
He rested his head on the wall behind him and closed his eyes. Resignation came off him in waves.
“I’m going.” She put her hat back on and flicked the light on. “Last chance.”
He didn’t say anything. Magenta suspected he was doing calculus in his head. “Fine. Stay here. Enjoy your two days alone.”
With that, she stormed back into the tunnel she’d come out of. Her anger and frustration made her want to hit out at the walls of her sanctuary. Then she heard it. A whisper on the air. Harry.
“I wish you’d stay with me, Magenta.”
Instinct told her that she wasn’t supposed to hear him. The acoustics of the mine had carried the words to her. It was his tone that melted her anger. She couldn’t remember ever hearing such need.
Mentally kicking herself, she turned around. Back to the one man she’d fought to keep away from.
Harry wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t even buzzed. At six foot two and two hundred pounds, he knew exactly how much alcohol he needed to drink to get an effect. He was nowhere near it. Sure, he was a little more relaxed than usual. But considering how close he’d been to clawing his way out with his nails, being relaxed was a good thing. One thing he knew for sure: it would take at least another bottle of wine before he got over the ache of Magenta walking away from him. Even though all the official guidelines for being in a situation like this said that alcohol made things worse, he reached for the half-empty bottle of white wine.
