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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

Gladioli in August (13 page)

BOOK: Gladioli in August
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“I reckon God must be looking out for me.”

“Yeah.” Her hands ran over his neck, felt the back of his head, before moving down his legs.

Micah bit off the cry of pain as her fingers probed his leg.

“OK, I don't think you've done any more damage.” She raised her gaze to the cliff towering above them. “It's only fifteen feet, but we have to go up.”

“Yeah,” he muttered wryly. “Down isn't really an option, is it?” He felt the heat rising and it was more than slightly uncomfortable.

Jael tied the second rope around him tightly and rose. “So I'll climb up and then pull you up.”

“Excuse me?” He looked at her aghast.

“Trust me,” she said. “You're not that big, and I've seen it done on the telly loads of times. You climb and I pull. It's a cinch.”

“Cinch? Is this one of those what-women-say-versus-what-they-mean things?”

She winked. “I'll tell you at the top.” She checked the rope, shouldered the pack and began hauling herself hand over hand up the face of the cliff.

Micah closed his eyes, choosing to concentrate on praying for help and a way out of here, and the pain rampaging through him, rather than watching the woman he loved dangling several feet above him. Finally, he raised his gaze upwards. It didn't look like it was too far of a climb, and under normal circumstances, he could do it blindfolded and in no time at all.

Jael reached the top and tossed the free rope down to him. “Now grab a hold of this and walk up as best you can. I'll pull you up.”

He checked that the rope Jael had tied around him was tight before he even struggled to stand. It took four attempts before he was on his feet and convinced he wasn't going to fall over the edge into the river of lava. Sweat ran down the back of his neck and into his eyes with both the heat and effort. He gripped the rope with damp hands. “A cinch, huh?” he muttered.

“Come on,” Jael called. “Just like in school, grip the rope with your knees and pull yourself up with your hands and I'll pull from this end. Just don't let go.”

Micah slowly inched up the rope, hand over hand, his vision grey with pain and his head swimming. The rope around his waist tightened as Jael pulled on it from above. He gasped with pain. “Leave me.”

“No way, mister.”

“I can't do this.”

“My mother always said there was no—”

“—such word as can't,” he finished. “Fine, cannot, unable…” He broke off in a scream of agony as his leg smashed into the cliff face. He let go of the rope, and would have fallen had Jael not had hold of the other rope. He swung over the lava, red-hot pain searing through him, bright lights flashing in front of his eyes.

“Come on.” Her voice sounded strained. “It's only a little further. You can do this.”

He reached up and grabbed the rope again. “I really can't.”

“Oh, come on. Where's that stubborn, arrogant bloke gone? You know, the Mr. No-one-can-touch-me-cause-I'm-invincible I've come to know so well?”

Hand over hand, agonizing breath by breath, Micah inched closer to the top. “Maybe he went home.”

“Maybe he turned into a coward…” Was that pain in her voice? Her tone carried an edge to it that he hadn't heard before

“Coward?” he asked.

“Yeah…”

“Don't you call me names.” He pulled on the rope again. “It takes one to know one, you know that, right?”

“Come up here and say that. Only hurry up cos time's a'wasting.”

“That's what,” he gasped, sweat running into his eyes, “I'm trying to do.”

“Try…harder…” That was definitely pain in her voice, although the mask muffled her words a little. Was she hurt? It was hard to tell over the increasing roar of the volcano.

He reached the lip of the ravine and gripped the edge with his hands. Jael grabbed his wrists, tugging him over the edge. He lay on his back, looking up at the sky, panting hard, exhausted. Ash now fell in a relentless torrent.

Pain speared through him at a level he didn't think could exist. He closed his eyes, thanking God for sparing him this time. “A cinch, huh?”

Jael pulled him away from the edge and unfastened the rope. “You did it.” Her voice was strained and pain-filled.

He opened his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she answered, shoving the ropes and pegs back in her pack. “So where are these caves?”

“Keep heading east.” He pointed.

“Then let's go.” She helped him up.

He bit back a cry of pain as he put weight on his leg. He adjusted his balance, leaning heavily on the cane. As she slid her arm around his waist, he draped an arm over her shoulders. Her bearing was a lot stiffer than it had been previously and he knew she'd hurt herself. Why wouldn't she be honest with him? Even so, now wasn't the time to call her on it. Once they were safe in the caves awaiting rescue he'd talk to her, beg honesty. After all, he hadn't hidden his injury and if she was hurt it was down to him.

They began to creep forward. Micah prayed with every step. Asking for forgiveness for failing to get her safely out of here and protection from whatever Gunung Berapi had yet to throw at them. For the strength simply to take the next step, but most of all for Jael, who was in pain, but wouldn't admit it.

They were almost to the caves. He could see the outline of the rocky entrance looming through the increasing ash fall. They were wading now rather than walking. Another shape grew larger. It took him a minute to work out it was a car embedded in a tree. His feet touched something. He glanced down.

A woman lay on the ground, almost completely covered with ash. “Jael, here.”

Jael bent down and shook her head. “She's dead.” She moved over to the car and reached through the broken window to the driver. “He's dead.”

The ground beneath them shifted violently. Micah would have fallen had he not grabbed hold of the car door. He glanced up at the mountain, not liking the amount of ash belching from the crater. “We need to get out of here.”

“How much further?”

He pointed. “Those rocks, so not far.”

A massive explosion ripped from Gunung Berapi. The blast threw them both to the ground. Micah rolled over, deafened, automatically throwing an arm out to protect Jael. He shook his head as his ears rang, opening his mouth in a desperate effort to relive some of the pressure in his ears. He rolled to an upright position. Horror gripped every nerve—not just for himself, but for Jael and any poor soul in the perimeter of the blast zone.

A massive billowing plume of thick grey smoke surged from the crater several thousand feet into the sky. Beside him, Jael held her phone and took pictures as the volcano violently expelled rock of varying sizes. In the plume, lightning streaked in angry bursts, the thunder lost in the explosive roar. The ground shook beneath them as another explosion filled the air.

He shook her arm. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

“I just need to get this on film. Um, the cloud seems to be falling. Is that right?”

Micah groaned. “Yes it's falling, and no it isn't. We need to move now before that cloud reaches us.”

She looked at him. “What?”

The side of the ash column had begun to spill over the rim of the crater. “That is a pyroclastic flow. It travels at around 800 an hour and cremates everything it touches. If it reaches us before we are in those caves, we're dead. Now move!”

He grabbed her arm, forcing his leg to move as fast as he could. The entrance to one of the caves was in sight. The ground trembled beneath their feet. The wind on his back, which preceded the volcanic blast, was hot.
Lord, if You want us now, please make it quick.

They entered the mouth of the cavern, a massive roar almost on their heels. Heat and ash blasted around them, and he pulled Jael inside as deep as they could go.

The earth heaved, propelling them upwards and forwards.

Smoke, heat, and ash blasted into the small space.

Micah pushed Jael to the ground and flattened himself on top of her, willing to give his life, if it meant she'd survive. Everything went dark, and for a long time all he knew was pain and heat.

12

The shaking finally stopped. Jael couldn't breathe. Something heavy pressed her to the ground. For a moment she wondered if she were buried, then she remembered. “Micah?”

The weight eased as he rolled off her. “Yeah?”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” His voice was even more strained and pain-filled than before. “What about you?”

She tried to take in a deep breath and bit her lip as pain rocketed though her. “Fine,” she whispered. She pressed a hand to her chest. She knew she had at least one cracked rib and quite possibly two.

Finding the flashlight, she turned it on, filling the small space with light.

She glanced at Micah. He looked awful. His forehead was cut and bleeding, and dust and ash made his hair grey. The tips of his ears were blackened and his hair singed. He shielded his eyes as she swung the torch over him before sending the beam of light downwards to his leg. “I need to redress this. Can you shuffle back and lean against the wall?”

Micah grunted as he moved, his face lined with pain. The grunt became a cry of agony as he leaned back against the rough cave wall.

“Micah?”

“Just do it,” he hissed.

Jael redressed his leg as gently as she could. She glanced up. “You know I'm never going to live this down with Kyle. He'll tease me for the rest of my life about this. He had all these figures for why volcanoes and August don't mix.”

“Oh?”

“Vesuvius and Krakatoa both erupted in August.”

“Now he can add Gunung Berapi on the twenty-second to that list.”

Jael frowned as she finished fastening the fresh bandage.

He laid a hand on hers. “What?”

“Your shirt…” She reached for it, concern filling her. “It's ripped. Actually it looks almost charcoaled in places.”

Micah's face creased in undisguised agony as she touched his shoulder and he cried out in pain.

Jael's stomach dropped. “Turn around.”

“I can't…”

“Then shuffle forwards for me, let me look.” As he inched forwards, Jael moved behind him. She shone the light on his back and swallowed hard as bile rose in her throat. The shirt had been seared from his back. The remaining skin was blackened and burned. She'd seen burns before, but this was worse than all of them. And she had no way of helping him.

“How bad it is?”

“You'll live,” she said lightly. “I need to examine you and it's going to hurt a little.”

Even though she was gentle, Micah cried out in pain and flinched. “Don't, please, don't…just leave it.”

“We need to get you to a hospital, but first I have to do something here or it'll get infected. It's not life threatening, but—”

“OK,” he whispered. “Just do what you need…”

Jael nodded, working to cover the burns with whatever she could find in her pack. “Should have packed the cling film, that's good to cover burns with, or plastic bags.”

“Pocket,” he gasped. Red-rimmed eyes turned to look at her before he hid his face again. “There's a bag in there.”

Not commenting on the tear tracks she could see on his ash covered cheeks, Jael reached into his pocket and pulled out a huge, clear plastic bag. “Brilliant,” she said. She quickly tore the bag apart and fastened it across his back.

“I never would have survived it if hadn't been for you.”

“Rot,” she told him. “You'd have been safe on Bantu hours ago and you know it. I'm sorry I made you bring me out here on a wasted journey.” Tears burned her eyes. “I should have listened to you and that scientific bloke and never come. You're hurt and it's my fault.”

She sat beside him, wiping her hands on one of the baby wipes from her pack before shoving everything back in.

Micah wrapped an arm around her, pulling her towards him.

Jael let out an involuntary cry as she moved.

He froze, his intent gaze swallowing her whole. His hand cradled her face. “What's wrong? And don't say nothing. I know you're hurt and have been for a while now.”

She leaned into his touch. “It hurts a little,” she admitted.

“More than a little,” he said. “Where does it hurt?”

“Chest,” she managed, forgetting for a moment she could only take shallow breaths. “I think I may have cracked a rib in the plane crash…maybe two…or three…”

“May have?” A mixture of horror and concern filled his eyes. He rubbed his hand over his face. “Shirt off and let me see.”

“Excuse me?”

He rolled his eyes. “You heard me. You've changed in front of me before, at least twice. All I'm asking is that you undo your shirt. Let me fasten a bandage or something around you to help you breathe a little easier.”

Jael struggled out of her shirt. She hissed as Micah ran his fingers over her ribs.

“That hurt?”

“Just a little.” Actually, it was more than a little and he'd managed to make goose bumps rise on her arms, but she wasn't going to tell him that either.

“You have a whopping great bruise and belt marks from the crash. Pass me a bandage so I can strap you up.”

“Here.” She handed him one and shut her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. His hair brushed her face as he gently bandaged her chest.

“Guess it's true what they say then. Nurses do make the worst patients.”

“That's doctors…or pilots…” She whimpered as he pulled the bandage tight.

“Probably really shouldn't do this over your bra,” he said.

“Don't even think it.” Her eyes sprung open to see him grin and she shook her head. “Fink.”

He blew her a kiss. “Put your shirt on, woman.” He helped her into it. Then as she finished fastening the buttons, he pulled her into a hug.

BOOK: Gladioli in August
11.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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