AllFreeNovel
Share Us
This was it.
She moved aside just enough so she could mark the spot with the toe of her shoe, her good leg taking her weight, her bad leg outstretched, showing him where to dig. She didn’t speak, but her eyes, her body language all begged for him to hurry.
He slammed the edge of the grubby blade into the ground as hard as he could, right where Catherine had indicated, but the hard ground meant he didn’t drive the spade in very far. An inch at most. Maybe not even that. This was going to be hard going. There obviously hadn’t been rain up here in a fair while and the ground was unforgiving. Especially here where roots obstructed his progress, too.
Holding the spade steady, he stepped on it, digging it in a few centimetres more, than jumped on it, one foot on each side, leaning all his weight on it. Again and again he jumped, wiggling the spade back and forth as it buried deeper into the earth.
Catherine’s eyes were on him the whole time as he loosened the ground in front of where they stood, lifting out big clumps of sod and piling them up next to him. Although the morning was cold, sweat stuck his shirt to his back and trickled down his forehead, dripping off the end of his nose. He ripped off his hoodie, discarding it carelessly on the ground behind them. The gentle breeze kissed his skin, drying his arms.
He kept digging. He made the hole bigger, wider, deeper. Catherine held her breath. He wanted to hold his breath too, because wasn’t that supposed to make you luckier? But it was impossible to do that and dig, too. He’d always found it impossible to hold his breath while riding, too. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t do anything other than breathe in time with the strides of his horse. Like it was syncing them together somehow.
She was wringing her hands.
He dug faster.
Clink!The spade hit something hard. Metal. In an instant, Catherine was on her hands and knees, brushing at whatever it was the spade had found, sweeping the dirt away. He dropped to his knees and joined her, carefully scraping the dirt out from around the metal, eager to see what it was. His heart pounded. He hadn’t expected to find anything, not really. It didn’t make any sense, and Jason had always been the sensible type. Logic mattered to him. It didn’t matter to Catherine.
Together, they worked at the ground with their fingers, reluctant to use the spade for fear of damaging whatever it was that they’d found. They scooped out big handfuls of the dirt their fingers had loosened, scattering it behind them, not caring about neat piles or saving the dirt for later. The only thing important right now was discovering what they had found.
Time stood still. But it flew, at the same time. He worked with a singular focus: dig. It was important to Catherine, therefore it was important to him. Whatever it was that they were currently working to uncover, he wanted to know almost as much as she did. He was involved, now.
Eventually, the metal item buried in the dirt began to take shape. A box. Flat. A hinged lid, firmly closed. No latch. About as wide as both Catherine’s hands held side by side. Not too large.
Catherine’s excitement was palpable, and his own heart was beating pretty quickly. He’d never wanted to find something so badly, but also dreaded it at the same time.
Taking hold of each corner, he wiggled it sideways, backwards and forwards. Trying to work it free. Once there was enough movement, he gave it a tug, lifting it directly up. It didn’t budge at first, it was firmly wedged into the hard ground, but after a few more wiggles, more movement, it came free.
Beside him, Catherine gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes were wide. Shiny with tears. He held it out to her.
* * *
Catherine couldn’t believe it. Was this really happening? Was this the same box that the man in her dream had buried? If it was, why? Her heart pounded, her blood pulsing in her ears. Nerves knotted in the pit of her stomach. It all felt so surreal.
She sat down, held the box to her ear, shook it.
Nothing.
She placed it between her knees, tracing her finger under the join where the lid met the box, applying gentle upward pressure, seeing if it would open.
It wouldn’t.
“What’s in here?” she muttered. “I have to know.”
Using a bit more force, she wedged her nail underneath the lid at the front, trying to pry it off but still, it wouldn’t budge. It was on so tightly, she wondered if it had been glued. Or was it just stuck on so well because it had been buried for so long?
“I can’t get the lid off,” she whispered, as tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
Jason extended his hand to help her up. “Bring it back to the hut,” he commanded. “We’ll open it up there. I’ll wedge a screwdriver under it.”
“What makes you think there’s a screwdriver anywhere up here?”
Jason smirked. “Everyone has screwdrivers.”
She took Jason’s hand and was about to let him tug her to her feet but a force she couldn’t see held her still.
Stay.She felt the word, rather than heard it, but it was clear: whatever was in the box, someone or something didn’t want her to take it away. So she shook her head.
“No. It belongs here,” she insisted. “This is where we found it. I want to open it here.” She didn’t recognise her own voice, it sounded completely unlike her own. There was an inflection in it she’d never heard before and the tone was forceful, but soft. Very different to the way she usually spoke. Jason obviously picked up on the difference too, because he crouched down beside her and leaned in close. He reached out to the box and at first she thought he was going to take it from her so she shook her head and held it tightly, but all he did was brush his fingers along the top, sweeping off a bit more dirt. It was dull, dirty, but not rusty. He turned it over, while she was still holding it, inspecting the hinges holding the lid on. He looked at the underside of it.
