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17
DADA
Ican no longer tell how long Sean and I have been in this dark underground chamber. My hands have gone numb except for the blisters on my palms which are sensitive and sore and soaking the inside of my gloves with pus.
Digging at an angle, I rest my head against the dirt tunnel that is now big enough for my shoulders and head. We still must be careful because we’ve only dug about a foot and half and still haven’t found anything to indicate we’re getting closer to air.
No. We’ve found something else entirely.
I scratch again at the steel material above me and recognize a portion of the lid that once hid this place.
Damn.
I don’t give up easily, but I also don’t ignore reality. We’re running out of air. Sickness and exhaustion have set in. I try again to lift it, but it won’t budge. No telling how much dirt lay beyond it. Which means we need to dig around it.
But which direction? If I dig the wrong way, dig in the direction that leads to more debris… we can’t afford the time a mistake will cost us.
Panting, climbing down, fingers numb and somehow in pain, I exit into the wider chamber and drop down beside Sean into the dirt. We’ve been taking turns digging while the other stays still, so we’ll use less air. Leaning back against the earthen wall of dirt, I hand him the headlamp.
He takes it with steady hands. “My turn?”
I shake my head, and a wave of dizziness washes down my body and turns my stomach so hard I fight not to retch. The air is thick, and our breathing is labored and heavy. We can’t escape the fact that we’re poisoning the air every time we exhale.
Pulling my flashlight from my pocket, I point it through the area we dug out. I can’t say the words, but I hear his groan of understanding when he spots my light shining along the dirty metal above. He rubs at his forehead, leans his head against the wall of dirt behind him.
Unable to take a full breath or quell the rising panic, fear, and my pounding heart, I grope for and pull down my mask. “I don’t understand. I’ve answered Fate’s challenge every time. Even as a child, when I should’ve died.”
I’m so mad, so disappointed in myself and so frustrated that I can’t hold back the pain. A tear traces its way down my face. “I’m so sorry, Rosa.”
Sean reaches over, wipes the tear. His hand cups my face. “Luv, don’t cry.”
Is there anything more likely to make a person cry than someone gently suggesting theynotcry? I cover my eyes with my hands, desperate to hide my tears.
He pulls my hands away, kisses my cheek and the tears. Welcoming his touch—because it might be the last and only comfort we have to give each other—I lean forward and kiss him lightly on the lips.
He moves his mouth to my ear and whispers, “Would’ve liked a lifetime to get… to know… you.”
Gooseflesh tingles down my body. There’s nothing left but that immediate truth between us. The reality of this situation requires honesty. Escape is near impossible. There’s too much debris, and chances are slim we’ll find a way past that door. I kiss his sweat-and-dirt-stained lips. “I’m not a nun.”
He laughs gently against my lips. “I know.”
With that, our lips collide and greedily use up oxygen. Heart aching in my chest, all the passion of a not-likely lifetime thick in my chest, my breathing short, darkness begins to tinge my consciousness. I don’t break the kiss. Sean does.
He grips my face in his hands and wipes my tears with his thumbs. “I’m not done fighting Fate.”
His undefeatable spirit touches me. “You’ll win,” I say, hoping I’m not lying. “A lifetime awaits.”
Taking the screwdriver, Sean shimmies into the dug-out area and I rest back against the dirt. The sound of his digging reaches me as I twist my leather bracelet and close my eyes.
Regretting the future now instead of the past, I drift off.
“Broke through.”
I hear Sean’s words as if from a distance, and I struggle to wake, struggle against a sleep as thick and heavy as a tomb.
I open my eyes, blink at his headlamp light. “How long have I been out?
“I broke through,” he says again.
