Out of the Ashes (15 page)

His hips seemed to move in a rhythm all their own, his loose-fitting pants doing little to conceal his muscular thighs. Heat crept up under her slicker, making her skin feel flush against the clammy moisture of the weather.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of how his skin felt beneath her fingertips, and another image, hazy at first, replaced it in her mind. It was David, standing with his back bared, vivid red slashes streaking across it as droplets of blood trailed down to his waist.

Her eyes flew open, focusing on where he walked steadily in front of her. His dark green raincoat covered his back where droplets of rain, not blood, ran down the fabric to fall to the ground.

Where had that image come from? The impression chilled her almost enough to make her feel ill.

Sera walked through the gate and went to strap her pack to the back of her bicycle. She couldn’t stop herself from watching David as he pushed the wheelbarrow up the ramp to dump it in the back of a waiting truck. White smoke chugged from the truck’s tailpipe, its engine running as its driver anticipated the end of the day.

A sharp thud landed in the middle of her back. Turning, she found her favorite three troublemakers grinning at her.

“Very funny. I suppose you didn’t think I was dirty enough, so you had to add some more?”

“Yeah,” Bruno, the oldest one, chuckled. “It looked like you missed a spot, so we thought we’d help you out.”

“Missed a spot, you say?” Sera leaned down to scoop up a handful of mud as she approached the trio. “Seems like you all missed some spots yourselves—like your mouths. How about I make you eat some of this mud?”

The boys laughed in delight, scattering in three different directions. She charged after Carlo, but he suddenly cut to the left, and her feet nearly slid out from under her as she tried to follow after him.

“Ha, Serafina. You’re always too slow.” She looked up to see Bruno hanging on the side of the dump truck, laughing down at her. “You’ll never catch him, trudging about like a fat cow stuck in the mud.”

She grinned. “Maybe I can’t catch Carlo, but I can still hit you.”

She threw the mud clod at him, but he shimmied along the side of the truck to the narrow space between the cab and the load carrier, dodging away just in time. The mud splattered on the side, oozing down the slick metal surface.

The grating sound of metal against metal groaned through the air. Bruno frantically gripped the edge of the truck as the back began to rise. His shocked expression told her everything. He’d accidentally bumped into the control lever, knocking the dumping mechanism into gear.

The boy jumped to the ground, landing on his feet with a large splat in the mud.

Sera breathed a sigh of relief until a movement to the side caught her eye. Little Antonio darted around the back of the truck, just as the hatch started to open under the pressure of the sliding dirt in the tilting bed.

“Antonio, no!” she screamed, charging toward him to shove him out of the way.

The edge of the hatch hit her shoulder as it opened. Dirt, both wet and dry, tumbled out, slamming into her legs and side, knocking her down.

In an instant, everything went dark. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. The earth crushed down on her, the weight stealing a little more of each breath she tried to take. Dirt and mud invaded her mouth and nose, filling her airway, coating her tongue, and choking her.

She could feel Antonio’s small body under her own. He wasn’t moving either. Was he alive? Could he breathe?

Her own air-starved lungs burned, threatening to explode inside her chest. Her eyes watered beneath her lids, the tears mixing with the dirt to make more mud that tried to seep back into her eyes.

She wanted to cry out, but there was no air left to make a sound. Dirt filled her ears. She could hear nothing but the pounding of her own heart as it struggled to continue to beat without oxygen.

Sera
.

David? Was he calling to her?

Sera!

His voice seemed so far away, and she desperately reached for it, tried to grab onto it with her mind to keep herself from slipping away. But it was too hard. She couldn’t find him.

And then her world went silent.

David clawed at the dirt like a dog.

“Sera!”

One minute he’d been watching her playing with the boys, laughing as she hadn’t done all week, thanks to him. The next, she was diving behind the tilting truck bed, trying to shove the smallest of the boys out of the way. In a matter of seconds both were gone, covered by an avalanche of dirt, rocks, and mud.

“Sera!”

He dug with both hands, not daring to use a shovel for fear he might hit her or the boy. Others were all around him on their knees, laborers and archeologists alike, digging at a frantic pace.

With each handful of dirt he shoved away, wet earth and rocks tumbled down from the top of the pile to replace it. It seemed he was getting nowhere, but he couldn’t stop. Not when every second counted.

“Hold on, Sera! We’ll get you out!”

The drizzle turned the exposed dirt to mud, making it thicker, heavier. He was sure the weight was crushing her and the boy. He tried not to think about it as the sludge oozed through his fingers every time he grabbed for more.

Drops of rain ran down his face, seeping under his collar and dripping off the ends of his hair, mixing with the mud to burn in his eyes. He didn’t stop to wipe it out of the way. There was no time.

He dug at the earth with the frenzy of a madman, tossing rocks and stones out of the way, not caring where they landed. Pain ripped up his fingers, through his hands, and along his arms. He was sure he could feel his nails being torn from their beds. But he didn’t care. If they didn’t get Sera and the boy out soon, both would suffocate. Both would die.

“Damn it, Sera. Don’t you die on me.”

The image of the plaster child flashed through his mind—a child who suffocated in a rain of ashes. If he didn’t hurry, Sera and the boy would die a similar, horrible death.

He threw his back into the effort, tunneling down deeper and deeper in the dirt and mud. God, where were they? He had to reach them in time. He had to.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he scooped away a handful of mud and uncovered Sera’s hand, dirty and lifeless.

“Here! She’s here!” he shouted. He dug with frenzied motions, working his way toward her head.

The others continued to dig in spots all over the pile. Why wasn’t anyone helping him dig here? Hadn’t they heard him?

“
Rapidamente
! Qui. La
abbiamo
trovata
.” Quick! Over here. We’ve found her, he heard
Heberto
shout.

Only then did the others join David, digging close to him, uncovering her shoulder, her back, her legs, the back of her head. She didn’t move at all as they removed the debris from her.

He burrowed his arms underneath her body and pulled her from the dirt. The boy lay beneath her, as still as Sera. Hardly any dirt covered his face and body. Sera had shielded him from most of it with her own body. Still holding her, David wasted precious seconds watching to see if the boy was hurt. Finally, he saw the rise and fall of his small chest. He was breathing. The boy was alive.

There was no time to feel relief. David carried Sera’s limp body to a level area of ground, laying her carefully on her back. He wiped at the mud on her face. It was everywhere, in her ears, in the creases of her eyes, packed up her nose.

God, she was so still, so pale, even under all the dirt and mud. He placed his head on her chest. She wasn’t breathing.

Somewhere, in the background, he heard the young boy cry out and cheers from the people erupt around him. He wanted to feel happy that the boy was all right, but he couldn’t as long as Sera wasn’t breathing. God, what should he do?

He did the only thing he could think of. Rolling her onto her stomach, he started pressing on her back, just as he’d been taught to do for a drowning victim. He pushed so hard trying to get her to breathe that he feared he might break her ribs.

“You have to clear her airway.”

“What?” David paused, looking to the side to find
Heberto
kneeling beside him.

“Get the dirt out of her mouth,” the old man said. “It’s choking her.”

Rolling her over, David tilted her head back and put his fingers in her mouth, scooping out the mud that coated her tongue. He placed his head on her chest again.

“She’s still not breathing.”

He looked at
Heberto
, feeling absolutely helpless. The old man seemed strangely calm.

“You have to breathe for her.”

Breathe for her? What did he mean?

“How?”

“Pinch her nose closed, then breathe into her mouth.”

David didn’t question how
Heberto
knew to do this. He just did it. He placed his lips over hers like a lover’s kiss, breathing his air into her mouth, praying it would reach her lungs in time.

Heberto
moved to kneel across from him and started pressing down on her chest.

“Come on, Sera. Breathe,” David urged her.

“Again,”
Heberto
said.

David breathed into her mouth once more and watched her chest rise and fall, then remain still.

Heberto
pumped on her chest several more times, then paused.

“Again.”

Soon,
Heberto
didn’t have to tell him when to breathe and when to stop. The two men fell into a natural rhythm, ignoring the crowd of onlookers around them.

Over and over again, David breathed for her, trying to stop the ruins she loved so much from taking her life. Finally, she coughed, sputtered, and gagged, gasping for air. He rolled her on her side so that she could vomit up the mud she’d swallowed.

When her spasms subsided, he rolled her back, cradling her in his arms. Sera’s eyes fluttered opened briefly. She looked up at him, but he couldn’t be sure if she really saw him. Her eyes drifted closed again, her breathing raspy at best, but at least she was breathing.

Only then did relief wash over him.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard the wail of an ambulance siren. Someone must have finally called for help.

He tore his eyes from Sera’s face and looked up to see
Heberto
kneeling across from him, his dirt-covered hands clasped tightly in front of his chest as if in prayer. The old man’s lower lip quivered, and his glistening eyes met David’s as a single tear trailed down his dirty, weathered cheek.

* * *

Marsha dodged through the crowd of people, fear making her clutch at the coat she held draped over her head to protect her hair from the rain. Finally, spying Hershel standing among the other workers, she plowed toward him, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him to the side.

“I heard there was an accident at the site. What on Earth happened?”

Hershel leaned against the outer wall of the ruins and mopped at his dirty neck with his handkerchief. He breathed heavily, looking like he’d just run a marathon.

“Dump truck… dirt everywhere… little Antonio… Serafina… buried…”

Marsha rested her hands on Hershel’s shoulders and tried to calm his nerves.

“Slow down, and tell me what happened.”

He finally managed to tell Marsha the story in short, choppy sentences, leading up to the moment they pulled a lifeless Serafina from the pile of dirt.

Marsha felt her stomach plummet to the ground at the thought.

“Oh, dear. Are they all right? What did you do?”

“I prayed, Marsha. I prayed like I’ve never prayed before. I even had to use the Emergency Hotline.” Hershel straightened and looked at her with wide, owl eyes. “Did you know that it’s a direct line to
Him
?”

“What? You mean you didn’t get
Smithers
?”

“No, I was put straight through to the Big Guy.”

“No! Really? Oh, Hershel, you know
Smithers
isn’t going to like you going over his head.”

“Well, I had to. There was no other way.”

Marsha turned to watch as Serafina was lifted onto a stretcher.

“Still, he’s not going to be happy about it.”

“I’m afraid that’s not the only thing he won’t be happy about.”

“What?” Marsha turned back to him and caught his worried expression. “Hershel, what did you do?”

“She wasn’t breathing, Marsha. I had to do something.”

Placing her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “What did you do?”

He avoided her penetrating gaze, preferring to fold his dirty handkerchief into a tiny square.

“I told David how to do CPR.”

“Hershel! Cardiopulmonary resuscitation won’t come into use until 1961. How could you? What if someone saw you two doing it?”

Hershel’s head fell back against the stone wall with a clunk.

“I know. But it was either that or Serafina dies, and we’re back to where we started.”

“This is not going to look good on our final report.”

Hershel shook his head, looking older than his twenty-five hundred years.

“That’s not all. While we were trying to get her out, David cursed under his breath in English.”

“Oh, no.” She glanced around at the large crowd that had gathered at the main gate to the ruins. “Did anyone hear him?”

“I don’t think so. I added a little bit to the prayer while I was at it, to cover the CPR and David’s English. I think because it went straight to the top, it worked. No one seems to recall either.”

Marsha breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“That’s good. It could be all over for us if anyone finds out about him. He’ll be shot before we can do anything to save him.”

“I know.” Hershel raked his hand down over his face. “You know, I don’t even think he realized he was doing it.”

The slamming door of the ambulance brought Marsha’s attention back to Serafina.

“I’ll go to the hospital to make sure she’s all right.”

She looked over to where David stood alone, his hands covered with mud to the elbows, watching as the ambulance carried Serafina away.

“Look at him.” Marsha reached down and squeezed Hershel’s equally dirty hand. “He loves her already, and he doesn’t even know it.”

* * *

She couldn’t breathe. The air was so hot, it scorched her lungs. The mud’s weight felt as if it was going to crush her.

Sera fought to break free of the earth, but she couldn’t move. She felt arms around her, comforting her at the same time they imprisoned her. She experienced an odd sense of relief that at least she wasn’t going to die alone.

Prying her eyes open, she couldn’t see anything in the black world surrounding her. Then, slowly, the black turned to gray, and she could make out a form beside her. It was David, not little Antonio, in the ground with her.

“David?”

He didn’t answer her. Slowly, her vision grew accustomed to the dark. She stared in horror at his handsome face, his eyes frozen open, still, lifeless.

David was dead.

She screamed, but the earthen grave smothered any sound.

Sera’s eyes flew open, and she stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. She felt shaky, disoriented. The room wasn’t hers. White curtains were pulled back on both sides of the narrow bed. Similar beds lined both walls, some with people sleeping in them or the curtains drawn, while others appeared flat and freshly made.

Her throat hurt, as if it had been scraped from the inside out.

She heard a noise and glanced to the side of her bed. David sat slumped in a chair, his features softened in sleep.

What was he doing here? Confused, it took a moment for her to remember what had happened. Antonio. The dump truck. She must be in the hospital.

Feeling a weight on her hand, she looked down. David’s hand covered hers where it lay on the bed. His long, tan fingers were in stark contrast to the crisp, white sheet. How long had she been there? Had he been with her the whole time?

Sera shifted and winced as an agonizing pain shot through her side. Pulling the sheet up to her chin, she stared up at the ceiling, gulping in shallow breaths of air. Deep breaths weren’t possible. They caused too much pain, as if her lungs had been compressed to half their size.

Her breathing slowed. She was safe. She wasn’t buried with David deep beneath the ground.

It had been a dream. Nothing more than a horrible dream.

Turning her hand slowly so she wouldn’t wake him, she entwined their fingers, needing to hold onto him in the enclosing darkness.

For some reason, even though she knew it hadn’t been real, even though David was beside her with his hand warm in hers proving he was alive, she couldn’t shake the heart-wrenching feeling that he was dead.

Or going to die.

* * *

David arrived at the ruins just before dawn. The ancient streets were empty. The archeologists, laborers, and tourists wouldn’t be arriving for another hour or so. As he reached the dig site, the sun crept over the walls of the city to kiss the crumbling stones of the buildings with a warm, golden glow.