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“Hannah.”
That’s it. No Mrs Tanner. No made up name. I am Hannah. I’m a new Hannah. A Hannah that was part who I was before Rick, and is now learning who I am without anyone. He nods at me and smiles slightly. Not enough of a smile for me to see the man I saw briefly earlier, the one who was enthused about my story telling, but it’s enough for me to keep following his lead.
“Hannah it is.”
It’s the first time he’s said it directly other than questioning. I smile in reply, enjoying the sound of it from his mouth. Nothing like Rick used to say. It’s stricter, more clipped. No drawled Han, or softly spoken sound. Far more relevant to the new me. I gaze at him as he stands there, wondering who he is other than the information I found online, just like I did in the plane while he left me alone.
It was all very discrete regarding his personal life. Barely any facts at all after his school years. Still, whoever he is, he’s been here with me, held me up in my time of need. And now I’m here with him, in a country I don’t know, ready to go into something I’m not even remotely questioning because he’s next to me. Maybe I should be scared of that, or of myself for doing any of this.
I’m not, though.
“Shall we?” he says, flicking his gaze to the pathway.
I slowly turn, still clutching the chain, and begin walking down an incline I can barely see. Eventually a low blaze of colour begins to creep into my vision. Torches start lighting the way, all of them about five metres apart. I watch as they blaze burnt orange at me, and listen to Gray’s strides on the hard floor dominating the echoing space around us. Odd. There seems as if there’s nothing here but the torches and perfect tarmac under our feet.
The thoughts have me peering sideways, looking out at the expanse of snow and ice in the murky light. It’s almost haunting, like a part worn world that offers nothing but despair and grief. I shiver and stride onwards, wrapping the fur around me tighter, and wonder what time it is here? Morning, still night? What does it matter? No sleep. No care.
“Cold,” I remark.
“It won’t be in a minute,” he replies, coming to a stop. “Stand still.” I do, waiting to see why. He turns slowly in a circle, his arms outstretched to the side, and then winks at me before walking backwards. A wink? I half laugh, apprehensive of this new version he’s presenting. A wink is nothing like the normally gloomy sense of dispassion. “Stay there,” he says, as he approaches a rock face. His hand goes onto it, fingers spread out, and a blue light flashes under his palm.
“Fuck,” he snaps, slowly drawing his hand away.
I move forward, watching as he shakes his hand out and then starts rubbing it. “Painful?”
“Hmm. Malachi’s idea of a joke, I assume.”
“Pain is a joke here?”
“Something like that. Are you ready? Last chance to change your mind.”
The rock starts opening, a puff of warm air suddenly flooding the area around us. I startle slightly and jump towards Gray, eyes raking around him at the illuminated interior showing itself. It’s just a tunnel, more blue light leading the way into what seems to lead underground, or into a mountain. “Well hidden,” I utter, walking around him to cross the threshold. “I know what ‘it’s a secret’ meant now.”
Heat hits me the second I step inside, swathes of it dancing across me like a wave. I loosen my grip on my coat and slip it from my shoulders, choosing to carry it rather than swelter, but it’s taken from my grip. Gray nods and walks beside me, leading us deeper into wherever we’re heading.
It’s not long before a sense of anxiety starts to build in me. I don’t know why. I was feeling capable a while ago, ready to take on anything, but this blue light seems ominous now, as do the contoured lines of Gray’s face the deeper in we go. Shadows play on his skin, highlighting the hollows and ridges of his features. What was simply morose now looks brutal, cruel again even.
Noise begins to build somewhere in the distance, rumblings and grumblings from what I can make out. I try listening more intently, intrigue making me quicken my stride regardless of my hesitation, but it’s still nothing but a distant clattering of ambiguous sound. I seem alone in my haste, though, his strides near me quietening.
I turn to look back at him and find him reaching for a bottle of water inside an enclave discretely hidden amongst the rock. He drinks and looks me over, enough interest in the stare that I find myself thinking of my apartment, of the look he gave me as I let my top slip down my body.
“Do you still need the tux?” he asks, handing me the half-drunk bottle.
“What?”
“The tux, Hannah. You said I should be dressed more appropriately.”
“No. Onwards. I want to see.”
“Hmm. Drink the water then. All of it.”
I do, tipping the bottle up as I start walking again. The ground begins to vibrate the closer we get. I can feel it under me, all around me actually as we keep moving. My hand touches the walls as we go, letting the dull vibration rattle my palm. There’s a beat. A deep, dull throb that passes through me, as if sending a primitive drum ricocheting around my whole body.
“It’s a party?” I laugh and look at him, amused. “You’ve brought me to a party in my despair?”
My feet skip on, every part of me ready for a party. Grief or not. My butchered life or not. A party is exactly what I need. I’ll get drunk, fall about and laugh and not give a damn about outside these walls. I’ll meet people and pretend life isn’t what it is. I hold my hand out to him, suddenly remembering I’m not allowed to drink. The pills will do. What were they? Different colours for different stimulants.
“The pills?” I ask, waggling my hand. “You’re my chemist for the night, Mr Rothburg. Hand them over. Which one first?”
