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Harry pushed away from the wall, where he’d been leaning, and picked up his backpack. “I brought a tent.”
Magenta stilled, sleeping bag in hand. At last something had managed to distract her from Harry’s effect on her body. “You brought a tent? To a mine?” She stared at him. “You do know we’re already indoors, right?”
“The tent isn’t to keep the elements out. It’s to keep the vermin out.” He shuddered as he said the word. “Rats, mice and bats. They’re biochemical weapons with feet and teeth. Hence the tent.”
Magenta dropped the sleeping bag and stared at the man. Tall, broad, muscled, with an air of danger, Harry wasn’t your typical geek. He also didn’t look like he’d have nightmares over Mickey Mouse.
“Are you scared?” She could hardly believe it possible.
“Hell yes. I’m not ashamed to admit it. It takes courage to face a fear. Or in this case, hide from it in a rat-proof tent. What do you do about the rats when you’re down here?”
She shrugged. “I go to sleep and hope they don’t bother me. If something comes sniffing around, I wake up and scare it off.”
He cringed as she spoke. “They have germs. They have sharp little teeth and no awareness of personal space. Do you know how many deadly viruses are in the saliva of a bat? Or a rat? Any rodent at all? One bite and it’s adios, amigo. Trust me, in this case, prevention is way better than cure. We’re sleeping in the tent.”
Magenta narrowed her eyes at him. Really? He was ordering her around? The guy had a death wish. “You can sleep in the tent. I’ll sleep out here.”
He folded his arms in an attempt to intimidate her. It didn’t work. “We’re both sleeping in the tent. Otherwise I’ll stay awake all night long worrying that you’re being eaten alive by rats.”
“And that’s my problem how? Stay awake if you want. You’re the one with the irrational fear. I’ve slept in here before. I’m fine. You can have the tent.”
He studied her for a moment. “I tell you what. We’ll play a game, and if I win, you sleep in the tent, where you’ll be safe from catching the plague. Yep, you heard right. The plague. As in ‘wipes out entire continents’ plague. If you win you can sleep out here. Of course, I’ll have to stay awake all night to make sure nothing comes near you, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
“You’re one big walking, talking psychologist’s wet dream. You can’t go in the mine because there’s too much dirt above your head and not enough air. You can’t sleep in a perfectly dry and secure room because the baby mice might eat you. Is there anything else I should know while I’m stuck in here with you? Any more irrational fears that will drive me insane?”
“Worrying about a cave-in and lack of air isn’t irrational. It’s logical. We’re not talking about pet mice you buy in a pet store. They’re the sanitised version. Although I still wouldn’t let them near me. We’re talking about the hard-core, bug-infested, rabid rodents from hell. That’s what we’re talking about. There’s nothing irrational about fearing those. Nothing. Wise people take sensible precautions. Like sleeping in a tent. Away from the rats.”
Magenta rubbed her temples. She didn’t remember him being this much work when they were kids. But she’d never been stuck underground with him then, either. She tried a different tactic.
“Hobbits live in man-made holes in the ground and they don’t worry about rats or sleep in tents.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “What is it with this town and its obsession with Hobbits?”
“It was worth a try,” Magenta mumbled.
“Either we play the game and settle this, or we spend the night discussing it. It’s your call. I can tell you right now, I have an encyclopaedic knowledge of everything that can go wrong when you confront a rodent, and I’m more than happy to share that knowledge with you—all night long.”
“Fine.” She ground her teeth together. “What game do you want to play? Don’t even think about suggesting strip poker.”
The dazzling smile was back. “I don’t have any playing cards.” He actually sounded sad at that. “How about I draw a circle over there.” He pointed at the entrance to the tunnels. “We’ll keep it simple. We’ll each take turns throwing a stone. The one who gets it closest to the middle of the circle wins.”
“Seriously. That’s your game?”
“You got a better idea?”
“Draw the damn circle. Let’s get this over with.”
Harry grinned, grabbed a piece of limestone from the floor beside him and trotted over to draw on the dusty ground. The circle he drew was teensy. Barely bigger than the size of her fist.
“That’s the size we’re aiming for? Are you sure you don’t want to make it smaller?”
He studied the drawing for a minute. “No. It’s perfect.”
“How many turns each?”
“One should be enough, don’t you think?”
Magenta stared at him. “I can’t tell you how much I don’t care. Are you sure about this? I seem to remember you being rubbish at any sort of ball game when we were kids.”
