“No,” Spook croaked.
“News that he’s a fucking moron,” Xane rasped. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”
Apparently, there were now two of them on the verge of nervous breakdowns.
Luthor ignored him in favour of his boyfriend. “Xane, what the hell?” He thrust a hand around the back of Xane’s head and reeled him in. “Christ, you’re clammy.”
Two piercing eyes focused on Spook. “What the hell is going on? What have you done to him?”
“Guys, this is wasting time. We need to find Alle.” Every inch of his skin was now itching to go back outside and search for her.
“I’m fine.” Xane shrugged off his lover’s hold, his affirmation clearly bollocks. He looked like Spook felt, seconds away from spewing his guts up, minutes away from his mind unravelling.
“He’s right, we’re wasting time.” Xane shoved his way past Luthor and set off at an exacting pace along the beach, with the pair of them trailing him like baby ducks.
“Xane, where are we going? Xane, fucking slow down,” Luthor called after him. “Xane, what the hell’s got into you?”
But Xane didn’t slow, or reply, just took the shortest route to the ravine, while muttering to himself under his breath. At the mouth of the natural passageway, he froze as if he’d hit an invisible barricade, which finally gave Spook and Luthor a chance to catch up.
“No. No. Not the fucking ravine. Everyone thinks it’s bloody straight. No chance of getting lost. Problem is they’re wrong. It’s not fucking straight. And it’s not fucking safe.” He turned on them suddenly. “Ask me how I know?” Neither of them did.
They knew, and given Spook was only a hair’s breadth away from succumbing to another panic attack, he didn’t want to listen to a rehash of the details. “Xane, I’ve been back and forth along the whole damn ravine multiple times now,” he insisted. “I swear, she’s not here.”
“Checked every crevice? I’m sure you think you have. You’re wrong.”
Jaw clenched, Xane pushed through the invisible barrier. Perhaps thirty or so paces shy of where Spook had last seen Alle, Xane took a left into what appeared to be a solid rock wall, only for the shadows to swallow him whole.
“What?” He and Luthor exchanged baffled glances, then ploughed into the darkness after Xane. Two steps on, they collided with his back. Xane stood rooted at the top of a sharp but narrow incline. Stones skittered down the slope as they steadied themselves, and him from toppling over the edge.
“I can’t,” Xane bleated. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I don’t want to be here.”
Luthor squeezed around him. “It’s okay. I’ll go.” He produced a head torch from one of the many pockets in his shorts and shone it down the slope. It had to be at least a fifty degree angle, and not only steep but uneven too. At least he was in suitable footwear, given he lived in hiking boots.
Xane grasped hold of his arm tight, his look terrified. “Don’t.”
Luthor slowly peeled away the grip. “I’ll be careful. Promise. If you think there’s even the slightest possibility she’s down here then we need to check.” He folded Xane’s fingers into a fist and then pressed it against his chest. “Just wait here. You’re doing good, Xane. I know this is tough.”
“I don’t want to be here. I can’t be here.”
“Let me check.”
Luthor about turned and braced his hands against the sides of the channel. It wasn’t enough, his feet still slid on the loose scree. The last six or so feet, he skated down wildly out of control. Xane turned his head, unable to even watch. Not that there was a whole lot of visibility, just the bobbing of the head torch, and a vaguely man-shaped shadow beneath it.
“She’s here. We’ve found her,” Luthor hollered up to them. “Alle. Hey, Alle, can you hear me? Say your name. Guys, you need to call for an air ambulance, she’s out cold.”
Spook was already on his way down the slope as Luthor spoke. He slipped and slid down most of the way on his arse, skinning both palms in the process. Heedless of the sting and the bloom of blood, he crawled over to where Luthor was crouched amid a patch of scrub. Alle’s crumpled form lay still inside his torch beam.
“Don’t.” Luthor’s fist formed fast around Spook’s shoulder as he bent to scoop Alle into his arms. “You don’t know what injuries she has, therefore it’s best we don’t move her until we’re sure it’s safe to do so. I’ve checked her airway, she’s breathing. Her pulse is steady, but she’s obviously hit her head because she’s non-responsive. Maybe you could check for other injuries. Carefully, just feel down her limbs, both sides, same time, see if there’s any anomalies.”
“You’re first aid trained?” Why had he never done any first aid training? And what had he done to her? He was under no illusions that this was his fault. She was only out here in the dark because of him, and he’d left her. He’d goddamned left her.
Luthor gave him a nod. “It’s a necessity in this band. There’s only Rock Giant and Ronnie whom I haven’t had to patch up in any way yet. Which is mad given Paul’s reckless and Ronnie’s barely in control of his own limbs and easily led. Figure it’s just a matter of time.”
“I can’t feel anything,” Spook said. “What if I missed something?” He began from her shoulders again, but this time the moment he touched her, she groaned.
“Groaning’s good,” Luthor reassured, his response calm and level-headed in a way that Spook couldn’t relate to. “Means she’s breathing, and with us enough to know it hurts. Where did you touch?”
“Shoulder.”
