The sound of falling gravel had Garrett lunging forward in the dark, the phone forgotten in his rush. “Fuck! Riley!” He scrambled up the pile and latched onto her ankles. Throwing his body weight back, he yanked hard. She came out of the collapse coughing as they both lay on the slope of fresh earth.
“Are you okay?” He rolled onto his knees and feeling for her shoulders pulled her up so her face wasn’t in the dirt.
She didn’t respond immediately as she hacked.
He rubbed her back, patting it in between, keeping her torso upright despite the slant they sat on. His own heart was pounding a path out of his chest, and he focused on taking deep breaths even as he held her steady.
“I’m alive.” A cough followed her pronouncement.
Unable to stifle his relief, he hugged her to him. “Thank God.”
She pushed away, but held onto him. “What? Are you afraid to be alone in this mine by yourself? Worried about ghosts?”
He shook his head despite the fact she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, that must be it.”
“I thought so.” Another cough followed her statement.
“Let me help you down.”
“We’re not down?” The softness of her voice said far more than her words.
He didn’t blame her for fearing another collapse. “Only half way.” He turned her forward to get her bearings and they half-slid, half-walked the last few feet of the slope. “Stay right here.”
He moved to where he hoped the phone would be and instead found Dog. “Hey buddy, were you worried. She’s okay.”
“Dog?” At Riley’s voice, the mutt moved, most likely to go to her.
He felt around until he finally found the phone and switched on the light. Damn, he’d blinded himself again. He quickly turned it toward the depths of the mine and looked back at Riley.
She fought off Dog’s anxious licks. “I’m okay, you silly dog.” She finally grabbed him and set him on her lap.
Her red hair was brown with dirt, her face filthy, and her jeans covered, but it was her left arm that concerned him. A six-inch scratch was deep enough to ooze significant blood. More than he was comfortable with. She had all the ingredients for an infection. “Where’s that water you said you had?”
“We should wait. It’s too soon yet.”
Ignoring the fact that she sounded like there was a particular timetable they had to follow to survive, he pointed at her arm. “Not to drink. I need to clean that or infection will set in.” And the last thing he needed was for her to become delirious.
She looked at her arm. “I didn’t even feel that.” She pointed with that hand, her other arm holding Dog at bay. “It’s about ten yards down this tunnel on your side. There’s a gray rock with an edge just wide enough for it and my phone.”
He smiled at her before heading in the direction she’d pointed. “Gray, huh?” All the rocks were gray.
She shook her head at him, obviously not finding his question humorous.
He focused the light on the wall until it glinted off the plastic water bottle. Gabbing it up, he turned and headed back. “Don’t let him lick that scratch. Dogs’ mouths are filled with germs.”
She frowned. “I wasn’t planning to let him near it. I’m not stupid.”
He slowed. “I’d never think you were stupid. It’s just my firefighter training coming into play. It keeps the fear at bay.”
“Fear? Of what?”
He sighed as he dropped down to his knees next to her. “Fear that you almost died. Fear that this might become infected and you get seriously sick. I always fear for those I save. It’s why I jumped at the chance to fight wildfires, to avoid structure fires as much as possible. Structure fires could mean trapped people. Fear. Now keep Dog away while I clean this.”
Pulling his handkerchief from his back pocket, he dribbled water on it and carefully cleansed the scratch. “I’d like to clean your whole arm, but that would take too much water. We should cover this to keep it clean. There’s far too much loose dirt in here.”
“You can use my bandana.”
“Is that hidden somewhere, too.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the wall.
