If I Should Die

long had he been out?

“Tim is here with me. We’re going to get you out.”

Though it hurt like hell, he pulled his body up so he could sit against the wall. The pain helped wake him up, and he didn’t know whether to swear or be grateful.

He realized as he righted himself that a sharp, squat piece of rotten wood protruded from his jeans. Blood seeped from the wound and he didn’t know how deep the oversized splinter was embedded.

He leaned against the side of the mine shaft, his dislocated shoulder bumping against the rock, and he grunted.

“Sean? Where are you injured?”

“My shoulder. Dislocated.” He felt like puking, which wasn’t a good sign. His head was still spinning.

“I’m coming down there,” Lucy said.

“No!” The effort to shout exhausted him. He couldn’t have Lucy down here. What if he was dying? He didn’t want her to watch him die.

Stop being so melodramatic, Rogan. You’re not dying.

It sure as hell felt like it.

“Unless you tell me that if I toss you a rope you can climb out on your own, I’ll be there in two minutes.”

“Lucy-”

A deep, male voice said, “Sean, I have equipment in my truck to get both of you back up. Give me a couple minutes and I’ll lower Lucy down.”

It was useless to argue. How else was he going to get out of this pit? He just didn’t want Lucy to see him like this.

But of course Lucy could handle it. She could handle anything life handed her. Even him in this condition. He just … hell, he didn’t know what he was thinking. The pain was making him stupid.

He closed his eyes again. He thought he heard Lucy talking, but it was far away.

“Sean? Hang tight. Okay?” Kneeling at the edge. Lucy braced herself when she heard no answer. She squeezed back tears. She was usually so much better at closing off her emotions, but Sean was in a bad way and she was pretty certain he’d passed out again.

From behind her, Tim said, “Lucy, let’s get my gear.”

She didn’t want to leave Sean, but the faster they gathered the equipment, the faster she could get down there and check out his injuries. A dislocated shoulder she could fix. But there was more. No one could fall that far unscathed. His arm or leg could be broken. His back. He could have a concussion. He wasn’t responsive, and that worried her more than the shoulder.

Tim’s truck wasn’t far, and he had plenty of rope and mountain gear. “I only have one harness,” he said. “I’ll lower you down, and you strap Sean in and I’ll pull him up.”

“How can you do it alone?”

“Alone?” He patted his truck. “I have a winch.”

She tried to smile, but it felt unnatural and forced.

Tim squeezed her arm. “We’ll get him out. He’s going to be fine.”

She had to believe it.

Lucy watched Tim’s vehicle cautiously approach the mine shaft. There weren’t many trees blocking access, but the bushes and fallen branches left over from winter storms made it cumbersome even for the large four-wheel drive. Finally, the truck was in place.

Tim called down. “Sean? You doing okay?”

“Yep.” His voice was faint.

Lucy checked Tim’s equipment. The harness was simple and lightweight, primarily used for rappelling, not rescue. But it had a metal ring to attach the rope, essential to Sean’s release since he wouldn’t be able to pull himself out.

She strapped on the harness, attached the rope, and checked all the buckles.

“You’ve done this before.” Tim handed her a small flashlight.

“Only in training. My specialty is water rescue, not getting-my-boyfriend-out-of-a-mine-shaft rescue.” Her attempt at humor was weak, but Tim smiled.

She quickly rappelled down the side of the mine shaft. She landed hard, but kept her balance.

“Impressive,” Sean said, his voice strained.

“I live to impress you,” Lucy said as she removed the harness. She wasn’t one for playful banter, especially when she was so tense, but it relaxed Sean. Little light made it down this far and she turned on the flashlight.

He’d pulled himself into a slumped position against the rock and dirt wall. She smelled blood, and looked at Sean. Wood protruded from his leg, and his jeans were soaked in blood. She averted her eyes, just for a second, to gather her strength.

“You smell like smoke,” Sean said.

“I got a little dirty putting the fire out.”

“You okay?”

“Much better than you,” she said. “I think-” She hesitated, a familiar smell flitting under her nose. She breathed in, smelling mostly soot and her own sweat. She exhaled and breathed in deeply.

Then she identified it.

A decomposing body.

Lucy had worked for a year in the morgue; she knew what a dead body smelled like. This was subtle, but still putrid, likely from the dampness in the tunnels as well as bacteria and molds that feed on body tissue and organs in such an environment. It smelled like cold storage, when organic matter breaks down extremely slowly.

It’s probably an animal. A large animal.

It was much colder down here than on the surface. How cold did it stay in the summer months? She had no idea. But it was spring now, and if someone had fallen into this pit last year, the body could have frozen and just now started to thaw.

She pulled a more powerful flashlight from her backpack and shined it around the area. There was little except broken wood, some old, rusty tools, and a pitch-black corridor leading off the mine shaft-no telling how long the tunnel was or where it led. But no dead body in sight.

“You’re not thinking of exploring the caves?” Sean said, half-joking.

“Of course not.”

She knelt next to him and stared at his leg.

“It’s just a splinter,” Sean joked without humor. Then he said, “It hurts, but not half as much as my arm.”

She inspected his dislocated shoulder. She wasn’t a doctor, and would have at first thought it was broken. But she trusted Sean’s assessment. “We’ll have to secure it-”

“Just pop it back in.”

Lucy stared at Sean under the flashlight, which made his face appear extremely pale. A sheen of sweat coated him even though it was frigid. “What?” She knew exactly what he meant, but hoped he wasn’t asking her to do it.

“Duke usually helps. You have to-”

“I know what to do, but I don’t want to.”

She sounded childish. Adjusting a dislocated shoulder was agonizing, and she didn’t want to hurt Sean.

“I can’t do it alone, Luce. I need you.”

She let out a long breath. “Okay.” She had no a choice.

“Do it fast.”

“Hold this.” She handed him the flashlight.

“Relax.”

Sean tensed. “Maybe-”

“Relax,” she repeated. “If you’re tense I could damage something. You have enough injuries as it is.”

“Okay.” She felt him try to calm his muscles, but he began shivering. It was cold