Lily of the Valley in May (12 page)

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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Lily of the Valley in May
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“I don't know—earthquake maybe. Either way we're trapped in here.” A crash accompanied his voice. “This torch doesn't give enough light to see anything by.”

If he had a torch why couldn't she see the light of it? Had something happened to her eyes? They were sore, as if there were a load of grit or sleepy dust in them. Faith felt around her. Lifting some of the wet stuff to her lips, she tasted it. Mud with grit and …

She spat it out, the earthy, metallic taste staying in her mouth. “I can't see.”

“Me, me, me—that's all you think about. There must be a way out.”

Faith listened as he moved, trying to gauge where he was. Was Damien actually afraid of something? She prayed as she sat trapped. God was with her, who could stand against her? She wasn't going to be scared of Damien any longer. Nor was she going to let him hurt her again, at least not without a fight. She felt around her for something to protect herself with.

Her fingers closed on something cold and hard. Her nose wrinkled as she tried to work out what it was. Piping? She squinted and then gasped as red, hot burning pain stabbed through her eyes.

She took a deep breath.
OK, I hurt my eyes. That's why I can't see. I have four other senses—use those.

A clock ticked to her right. Damien was swearing again to her left. Faith could see the layout of the room in her mind, but it didn't match what her ears were telling her. The clock had been in front of her, yet she was definitely on the floor and to the side where there had been no floor space before. Whatever happened must have been big and either thrown her across the room or flattened the whole room somehow. She'd seen a film where that happened—all three stories ended up flat on the ground like a pack of cards, with small air pockets or tunnels where rooms and corridors had once been.

Damien's footsteps grew closer.

Her fingers gripped the pipe tightly. “If you help free me, we'd get out of here faster.”

“I was going to kill you, Faith, but I'll leave you buried as a victim of the disaster. I'll even help bury you further.”

Something creaked and the weight on top of her legs increased. She screamed.

Damien's hand cradled her face. “Shh. No one can hear you. Nobody cares.”

She turned away. “Don't touch me.”

“You're not listening to me, are you? You never listen.”

“You're the one not listening to me.” The words were out before she could stop them, but it felt good to finally not kowtow to him.

A string of expletives followed as Damien's hand connected hard with her face, forcing it sideways. Pain shot through her eyes and she cried out.

“What did you say?”

She turned towards him, her hand tightening on the pipe. “I said you're the one who doesn't listen.” She lifted the pipe knowing where he was from his aftershave. She lashed out hearing a thud and cry of pain as it connected with his body.

He swore loudly. “You'll pay for that.” He wrenched the pipe from her hand. It clattered to the floor some distance away. His fingers ran down her arm and pulled up her sleeve. Cold air brushed her skin, followed by swift pain as he cut her.

She cried out, tears burning in her eyes. Something wet trickled the length of her arm as Damien yanked her sleeve back down to hide what he'd done.

“It won't take long, Faith. You'll fall asleep, be dead before you know it.”

“If you say so.” Faith's voice shook, her left hand continuing to push at the mud covering her. “I can hear someone talking. To the right.”

Damien moved away, banging on the wall. “In here. Help.”

Faith's fingers touched something sticky. She raised her fingers to her nose. Blood. She shivered, her thoughts turning to Joel. Was he alive or dead?

I'm so cold and so scared. It's so dark. Please, let Joel get out, let him be OK. It doesn't matter what happens to me, I'm dying anyway, but keep Joel safe. Thank You that I worked with someone I admired and got to know him and love him. Be with Grace and Rick and Mum and Dad…and Hope.

“I found a way out. I can see daylight.” Damien's voice rose in excitement.

Faith turned her head towards him. “Take me with you.”

“Don't be stupid.” Damien snapped. “I'm getting out of here alone. I've had enough of you. I'll—” His voice broke off as the ground moved once more.

A crashing, rumbling filled the air and a rush of wind pressed down on her, pushing her flat onto the floor. She instinctively closed her eyes and flung an arm over her face as the ceiling cracked above her, and fell. A scream came from her left, cut off suddenly and then there was silence.

Faith opened her eyes. More red hot pain pierced her face. “Damien?”

There was no answer. Where was he? Had he left her after all? She could no longer feel her legs which was a blessing. Silence pressed down on her. The clock no longer ticked. A trickling came from her left. Breathing hurt, but she was alive.

She was alone and blind in the dark.

No, not alone. Never alone.


The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want... Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me
… Not alone, never alone...”

10

Joel kept moving forwards slowly. His insistence had paid off and he'd been paired with a pretty red-headed mountain rescuer called Alba. He didn't think she liked the arrangement, but too bad—in fact he hadn't expected any of the mountain rescue people to be female, but Alba certainly knew what she was doing.

Joel wasn't about to leave without finding Faith, no matter how long it took. They should have left at eight o'clock and stopped for food on the way, like he'd wanted. Not allowed DC Blondell to talk him into shopping and leaving at nine-thirty to avoid the rush hour traffic.

The gap narrowed and they had to crawl on their bellies for several feet until the opening widened. His flashlight illuminated part of a green sign with a white letter ‘G'.

“Look.” Joel shone the light over the sign. “We seem to be on the ground floor. Hopefully not much further.”

Alba nodded. “I've seen this before, several years ago. The force of an avalanche knocked the whole building onto its side. Pancaked the floors in places so we didn't know which level we were on. We didn't find anyone alive in that.”

Joel pulled open a door, jumping back as a slew of mud and debris slid out. He gasped as a body landed at his feet, the vacant eyes staring up at him. He turned away, praying for the man's family.

The building creaked and rocked, sending both Joel and Alba to the floor. Ceiling tiles crashed around them, and Joel put his hands over his head in an effort to protect himself. The rumbling faded and the two of them checked themselves over.

“Team two, report.” The urgent voice crackled from the radio.

Alba pulled the radio from her jacket. “We're fine, Bill. Seem to be on the ground floor now.”

“We're pulling everyone out. It's not safe.”

Joel shook his head. “I'm not going. We're almost there.”

On the other end of the radio, Bill didn't hide his irritation. “Tell him I heard that. This is a direct order. Pull out now.”

Alba looked at Joel. “OK, on our way.” She let go of the transmit button and winked. “As soon as we check the rest of this corridor, but no further.”

Joel shot her a grateful smile. “It's not far, or shouldn't be. Its room fifteen.” He shone the torch on the wall. “See that's twenty.”

Alba nodded. “If it were my husband, I'd feel the same way. Need to make it really fast though. The whole place is unstable. The weight of the mud could crush it at any time.”

Joel jerked his head, moving carefully down the hallway. There was a definite slant to the floor now, which hadn't been there a few minutes before. He he'd lived with Elliott long enough to know that wasn't a good sign.

The flashlight lit the numbers on the doors. He wondered if many were trapped, but didn't stop. Alba was checking as they went, but so far they'd found no one alive.
Please, God, let her be OK
.

The flashlight found seventeen... sixteen...fifteen. Finally. “Here!”

The door bowed outwards. “Faith!” Joel tugged on the handle. Was he too late? Had Damien killed her before the landslide hit or had that just done the job for him?

Lord, let me find her. Please. I can't lose someone else. You can't have brought her into my life, let her melt the ice around my heart, only to take her away. Not like this, please.

Joel pulled hard on the door. The building shook again, and his efforts became more frantic.

Alba appeared at his side. “We have to get out now.”

“Two minutes!” Joel pulled at the door. “Help me, don't just stand there.” He slid his fingers between the door and jamb and pulled with all his might.

Alba helped tug and inch by inch the door moved. A shaft of sunlight streamed through it.

Blinking in the brightness, Joel and Alba forced the door open. Joel stepped through into a scene of utter devastation. Nothing was recognizable from the room he'd left a few short hours ago. Mud and broken furniture filled the room, spilling inwards from where the wall used to be. The broken window let in the sunlight. Someone had obviously started to clear it.

“Faith!”

Where was she?

“Joel, over here. I found someone.”

Joel followed Alba's voice and clambered over to her. He looked down at Damien, a piece of metal piping sticking upright from his leg.

“Help me…” Damien groaned.

Joel bent down and grabbed Damien's collar tightly, shaking him. “Where's Faith? What have you done with her?”

“She's dead. Help me.”

Joel snarled, biting back what he longed to say. He let go and turned frantically scouring the room with his gaze. “Faith? Faith, answer me. Where are you?”

A faint moan came from his left.

He spun around. “I'm here. Where are you?”

“Joel…” The whisper came from under a ceiling panel.

Thank You, God. She's alive.

Grabbing it, Joel tossed it to one side. Faith lay half buried, a beam lying across her legs. Blood streamed down her face and pooled on the ground underneath her. Had his prayers of thanks been in vain? He knelt beside her and gently laid his hand on her cheek. “Faith? Tell me what hurts.”

~*~

Faith stirred as a hand cupped her face. She wasn't dreaming. She could smell musk and spearmint and the leather of his jacket. “Joel?”

“It's all right. We're going to get you out. Just hold on a few more minutes.”

“I'm not dreaming?” There was another voice talking in the background.

“No, Faith, you're not. Where does it hurt?”

“I can't move. There's something on my legs.” She wasn't going to list everything that hurt. They'd be here all day and from the urgency in the voices and the ominous creaking and shaking they didn't have that long.

“There's a beam across them. Just hold still a few more minutes. We'll get you out.”

She took a deep breath, needing to know. “Damien was here before. I heard him cry out, then nothing. Is he still here?”

“Yes. We're getting him out, too.” Joel's voice was breathy, as if he were working out. The weight on her legs eased a little. “But right now I'm worried about you. Does anything hurt? There's a lot of blood here.”

“Everything hurts. What about you? Are you hurt?”

“Few scrapes, nothing major.”

More voices entered the room. For an instant, pain flooded her as the weight on her legs shifted. Faith cried out. “Don't. Please don't, that hurts.”

“I know it hurts. I'm sorry, but it won't hurt for long.” Joel's voice had an edge to it she hadn't heard before.

“OK.” Pain filled her, hot tears running down her cold face. She screwed her eyes shut, bringing more pain, her head feeling as if it were splitting open. A hand touched her face.

“Stay with me, Faith.” Concern filled his voice.

She leaned into his touch. “I'm here...”

“Don't you fall asleep on me, darlin', will you?”

“Not sleeping. How long have I been here? Is it still daylight?”

“Daylight?” The concern in his voice deepened. “Yes, it is. It's just past one in the afternoon.”

“I can't see. It feels like sand or grit or something in my eyes.” There was a long pause. Had he left? No— his hand was still on her face. “Joel?”

“You've cut your head, there's blood everywhere.” His voice was quiet and she knew he was lying.

“Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not.” His fingers traced along her forehead, a stinging sensation accompanying them. “All along here is a big cut.”

“It doesn't change the fact I can't see.”

“We won't know anything until the doc looks you over. OK, we're ready to lift the beam now.”

Faith turned her face away, not wanting him to see the grief pouring through her.
I'm an artist. If I can't see, I can't draw. And if I can't draw, then there's no point in living any more. Damien won. He took from me the only thing I had left.

Voices echoed, calling orders. Pain shot through her as the beam lifted. An involuntary scream ripped from her lungs and tears streamed down her face. The ground under her shook.

The voice took on a new urgency. “It's coming down. Everybody out.”

Strong arms picked her up and spearmint and musk filled her senses. Joel. She put an arm around his neck as he staggered over the increasing ground movement. Something crashed around them. She hung on tightly as Joel slipped.

Damp fresh air hit her. “Joel, what's happening?”

“The roof collapsed, but we're out. We're fine.”

Faith pressed her fingers to his face. It was wet. “Are you crying?”

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