Higher Ground

by Becky Black

  Were Torres’s group still ahead of the steadily rising water? The quakes weren’t as bad as he’d feared they might be. Perhaps the island was settling smoothly after the initial collapse of the fault. But smoothly or not, it was sinking. It would go all the way down; he’d come to believe that the last day or so. The whole island gone, vanished under the waves as if it had never been there. So if rescue didn’t come back soon enough…

  It would. They just had to keep moving.

  They were moving, but too slow. The rain and the gloom didn’t encourage speed. The loose screes of rock they had to negotiate slowed them still further. Adam moved away from walking beside Simon and caught up to Zach just as Zach stumbled.

  “Careful there,” he said, grabbing Zach’s arm. Once Zach was steady on his feet again, they walked arm in arm for a while. It made balance harder on the treacherous slope, but Zach drew comfort from it.

  “Adam, do you think we can get people to move faster? We should be faster. I know it’s steeper now, but—”

  “Yeah, that’s something I’ve got to talk to you about. People are getting—”

  The barking of dogs and the all too familiar roar of the ground under their feet cut him off. Everyone instinctively dropped to the ground as it began to shake. Adam leaned in close to Zach and spoke into his ear.

  “I love you.”

  It has become a tradition already. An absurd one, Adam making a joke of it that Zach would only say the words during sex or an earthquake. But it had been welcome reassurance, even said as a joke. Until Glyn arrived. Now it mocked him.

  “I love you,” Zach choked out.

  But he kept his eyes locked on Adam’s, even when bouncing stones struck him. They didn’t need to hold on to each other. Their eyes did it for them. They became the only solid thing in the world for each other. An anchor as the world around them trembled.

  A scream pierced the air even over the rumble, and they both gasped, pulled away from gazing deep into each other’s eyes. A woman’s scream. Zach saw a woman he knew only as Jan, a colleague of Adam’s from the Institute, holding her arm, blood staining her sleeve and splashed all over the ground beside her. A couple of people nearer to her scrambled over, one of them ending up swept past her on the rock sliding under him, stopping only when a couple of other people grabbed him.

  “Shit!” Adam started to move her way himself, not getting far as the shaking intensified. Zach saw him start to slide and grabbed him in an awkward hold under one arm, while he threw his other arm around a solid—he hoped—outcropping. “Shit, shit, shit!” Adam yelled the words, channeling his fear into them. Zach swallowed his fear and tasted the bile of it.

  “Hang on,” he called to Adam. “Just hang on!”

  He couldn’t tell how much longer it went on. It felt like an hour but was probably seconds. Then the tremors began to ease, and at last they stopped. Adam pulled away and jumped up to run to the injured woman.

  Zach didn’t chase him immediately. There were several people helping her, and Glyn—white with terror—hurried over, carrying only his medical kit, having dropped the rest of his gear. Zach let them take care of her while he stood up and looked around, assessing the group. There were other injuries. Mostly minor ones, cuts caused by falling stones bouncing past. Poor Jan must have caught a larger rock. Had it only cut her arm or broken it? How much blood had she lost?

  He checked back down the slope, wishing he could see Torres’s group. Had they sustained injuries? They could afford to slow down even less than Zach’s group, with the water so much closer on their heels. He thought it had risen during this last quake; he’d chosen a reference point to look at to judge the depth of the water, and he felt sure they’d sunk another meter at least.

  He watched Glyn treat Jan, leaving her with her bandaged arm in a sling before he went around to check on the other more minor injuries. Adam came back to him.

  “How is she?” Zach asked. “Is her arm broken?”

  “No, but it’s a deep cut. Glyn’s done his best.”

  “Ah, good. Good he’s along.” Tasted bile again, first through aversion to Glyn and then from the self-disgust arising from feeling that way about a man who right this minute was ministering to Zach’s injured people. “Adam, we can’t delay moving on for too long.”

  “I know. As soon as the injuries are treated, we’ll get everyone back on their feet and moving again.”

  “Okay. Thank you. Oh, you were going to talk to me about something, you said, right before the quake started.”

  “Yeah, I…” Adam stopped and looked around. “Never mind. It might not even be an issue anymore. We’ll talk about it when we stop for the night.”

  * * * *

  They kept climbing for as long as they dared until the light faded too much. Only after people began to trip and stumble in the darkness did they call a halt. Adam hadn’t called for a stop earlier. Unless Zach did something dangerous, Adam wasn’t going to argue with the need to cover as much ground as possible. Every time he slept, he dreamed again of the flood. And worse, he dreamed of the water catching them, of seeing Zach swept away from him. Failure. Loss.

  He shook himself, looking up from contemplating the pan of water on their camping stove when Zach sat down beside him.

  “You okay?” Zach asked, looking at him with some concern.

  “Just tired.” He grabbed the coffeepot and spooned in the grounds. Not much left—they’d better be rescued soon. “Are people settling down?”

  “Yes. Simon’s going to come over and sit with us for a few minutes to chat about how it’s all going. How people are managing.”

  “We should bring Glyn in so he can report on the injuries,” Adam said, pouring the hot water into the pot. He saw Zach stiffen. Not the first time he’d done so at the mention of Glyn. “Come on, it makes sense. I know you’ve got some kind of problem with him—”

  “I have no problem with Glyn,” Zach said quickly.

  “He did good today. You can’t argue with that.”

  “I don’t intend to,” Zach said, voice as stiff as his posture.

  “Good. Give me a second.” Adam jumped up and went to look for Glyn. Zach was being kind of a jerk about Glyn. Like he felt threatened by him. That had to be evidence of insecurity. He claimed not to want the leadership but got funny about anyone who joined the leadership team. He asked a couple of people which tent was Glyn’s and found him sitting outside it, replacing a dressing on someone who’d been cut by flying rock earlier.

  “Hi, Adam,” Glyn said, with a friendly smile. “What can I do for you?”

  “When you’re done here, can you come over for a chat at my tent?”

  “Sure. I’m done here.” He smiled at his patient. “Come see me if you need to, okay?” He cleared up his gear and stood, carrying his medical kit.

  “I don’t think you need that,” Adam said.

  “Never supposed to leave it alone. Some powerful drugs in here.”

  They headed back over to Zach, helping each other over rough ground a couple of times. Simon had arrived and was pouring coffee as they approached. He was saying something to Zach, but Zach didn’t appear to be listening, watching Adam’s and Glyn’s approach instead. Can’t keep his eyes off me, Adam thought, grinning.

  “Hi, Zach, Simon. Oh thanks,” Glyn said as Simon passed him a mug of coffee. “What’s up, guys?”

  “I thought we should have a short meeting,” Zach said. “To discuss progress and make plans. Adam suggested you join us.”

  “Delighted to.” Glyn raised his mug in a salute to Adam. “Something in particular you want from me?”

  “A report on the injured people,” Zach said. “How well they’ll manage the rest of the climb.”

  “Most of it is just cuts and bruises. As long as nobody gets an infection, they’ll be fine. I’ll keep a close eye on them for any signs. The most serious one was Jan.”

  “How is she?” Zach asked. “Is her arm broken?”

  “
No, but it was cut open down to the bone, and she’s got muscle damage. She’ll need hospital treatment eventually. Right now she’s going to have to keep her arm in a sling, so if the climb gets steep enough, she’ll have problems. As long as we’re still walking, it’s okay. She lost blood, and that’s made her weak, but I’ve given her drugs to help and something to make sure she gets a good sleep tonight.” He grimaced. “Even on this ground.”

  “Can I have some of that?” Adam said, winking at Glyn.

  “Ah, drug seeking,” Glyn answered with his own wink. “I’ll make a note.”

  “Would a blood transfusion help her?” Zach asked.

  “Ideally, she’d have had one, and in an emergency I’ve got the equipment for a direct transfusion, but I don’t want to risk it without it being an absolute emergency.” He looked at Adam. “It’s not something to undertake lightly in the field.”

  “All right, thanks,” Adam said. “Okay, there was something I wanted to talk about, something that’s worrying me. I think people are getting complacent.”

  “Complacent?” Zach sounded stunned. “Are you joking? They’re too frightened, surely?”

  “No, he’s right,” Simon said. “I think I know what he means. People keep talking about rescue coming back soon.”

  “But it is,” Zach said.

  “Which doesn’t mean we’re in less danger,” Adam said. “The quakes are worsening. We’re in more danger from rockfalls. But I think the fact people know the rescue ships are coming back makes them think they won’t need to climb all the way to the top. And it’s possible we won’t have to, but we shouldn’t let that make us move slower. We’ll be safer at the top. At least from falling rock.”

  “And we saw today injuries could happen any time,” Simon said. “Maybe some bad enough to slow us down seriously. So we have to take full advantage of the fact we’re mostly still fit to cover as much ground as we can.”

  “Good point,” Adam said, nodding, glad Simon agreed and backed him up. Even Zach had seemed a little complacent about the urgency of continuing the climb as fast as possible.

  “Moving too fast might risk more injuries,” Zach said.

  “We have to find a balance,” Simon said, and Adam nodded.

  “Push, but not too hard,” he said, looking at Zach, who frowned somewhat resentfully.

  “I can’t believe people would be so foolish as to be complacent. Can’t they see the water rising behind us? Don’t they remember what we saw when the basin flooded?”

  “Hey, don’t snap at me about it,” Adam protested. “I’m telling you what I’ve been hearing, and I’m telling you how worried I am about it. And you were the one who wanted to stop nearly an hour before we actually did tonight.”

  “And two people had falls in that hour.”

  “Okay, guys,” Simon said. “That’s not helping. What’s the best way forward?”

  “We have to be wary of causing people to panic,” Zach said, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

  “But we have to keep them keen,” Adam said. “Zach, can’t you make some kind of prediction about how fast the island will sink?”

  “No. The sinking isn’t predictable.”

  “But we have at least some idea of how far it’s sunk already and how long it took; can’t you work it out?”

  “No. There’s no way to know if it will accelerate, slow down, remain steady or not move another millimeter. I don’t have a crystal ball.”

  “You could try—”

  “I thought you were a scientist.”

  Adam scowled. Dammit, did Zach have to act as if Adam was asking him to sell his scientific soul? He just wanted to help motivate people. A rough prediction even based on minimal evidence would help. But if Dr. Principled was too stubborn…

  “Time for bed,” Simon said, ever the diplomat. “Long day tomorrow.”

  “I’m going to take a walk.” Adam stood, ignoring anyone attempting to speak to him. He clicked on his flashlight and strode off into the darkness. Right now their shared tent would be too small for him and Zach.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Adam found a place to sit in the shelter of some rocks—ready to run like hell away from them if another quake happened. He turned off his flashlight, preferring the darkness to get a better sulk going. No, he wasn’t sulking. He was brooding. Not much better. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t brood, though he’d admit to sulking sometimes. But it had been a while since he’d felt as strongly for someone as he did for Zach. And a long time since anyone had gotten on his nerves the way Zach had started to.

  Zach’s fault or his own? Or a combination of the two? All this time forced into each other’s company while they grew more tired and irritable by the day, a bust-up was surely inevitable. The relationship had moved so fast; could it end just as fast?

  The beam of another flashlight appeared nearby. Zach? Come to talk, maybe apologize? If he thought he had anything to apologize for. He might not, might think himself entirely justified lecturing Adam like a professor.

  “Adam?”

  Glyn, not Zach. For a second, Adam considered not answering, preferring his solitude. But if he didn’t, Glyn might think something had happened to him and go back and raise a search party.

  “I’m here.” Adam turned on his flashlight, and Glyn’s light headed toward him. In a moment, his shadowy figure appeared.

  “Are you okay, Adam? I was a bit worried about you going off on your own in the dark. It’s dangerous.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Glyn didn’t take the short answer as any kind of discouragement; he remained standing there. Waiting for what?

  “I’m fine,” Adam said again.

  “I’d rather not leave you alone out here.”

  Adam sighed heavily. “Okay, sit down. But I’m not good company tonight.”

  Glyn sat and turned off his flashlight. Adam did the same with his, and the darkness engulfed them.

  “Do you ever miss the moon?” Glyn said.

  “Definitely. Several of my years as an undergraduate, I saw more of the moon than of the sun.”

  Glyn chuckled. “Bit of a party boy, eh?”

  “Could say that.”

  “Me too. I’d been looking forward to getting back to Arius, which shows you how dull the outposts are, if Arius was party central.”

  Adam didn’t want to talk about Arius. He didn’t want to think of the people he’d attended parties with being dead now. They lapsed into silence again, Adam looking at the stars. He had a strange feeling Glyn was looking at him, not at the stars.

  He should go back, he thought. Talk to Zach. They could make up. It was only a stupid row.

  “I hope you and Dr. Benesh can settle your differences,” Glyn said, startling Adam by echoing his thoughts. “I hate to see couples fight. Can I ask, have you two been together a long time?”

  Adam glanced at the dark shape of him, starlight picking out the edges of his features dimly. A personal question but one couched so politely, in a voice so full of concern Adam forgave it. Maybe Glyn wanted to help Adam work out his sulk.

  “No, not long at all. We met right before this whole thing started.”

  “Wow, really? I thought you must have been together for a while.”

  That made three—Korrie, Simon, and Glyn—who thought Adam and Zach had been together awhile. Adam didn’t know what to make of it. “What made you think that?”

  “To be honest, because of the way you argued. What’s the saying? Like an old married couple.”

  Adam laughed cynically. His parents sometimes argued like the old married couple they were, leaving him chuckling indulgently. But he and Zach had argued more like a couple heading for divorce.

  “Things have moved so fast, you know, because of this situation. And maybe it’s…” He didn’t want to go on, but he summoned the courage to say it. “Over already.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Adam shook his head, forced a cheerful tone
into his voice. “Nah, it’s fine. Maybe it’s the best way. A relationship express, you know. Better than spending a year with someone and getting badly hurt in the end.” Like he wasn’t badly hurt. He’d taken the express train to misery.

  “It is such an unusual situation,” Glyn said. “The danger makes everything seem more intense. I know I’m shocked by how strongly I already feel for you.”

  Adam froze. Glyn touched his arm as if trying to orient himself, figuring out Adam’s position.

  “I wouldn’t normally do this with a guy who’s in a relationship.” Glyn moved his hand up Adam’s arm, over his shoulder, into his hair. “But what you just said… And we are in danger. Anything could happen, and if it did and I’d never kissed you, I’d regret it for however long I have to live.”

  He leaned in, his weight and the warmth and scent of him coming close. Adam shouldn’t let it happen. He should push him away. But he did nothing, and Glyn’s lips touched his. Gently at first, then Adam felt Glyn’s tongue touch the seam of his lips, sweep across it, until he instinctively opened his mouth. Glyn sighed as their tongues touched and what felt like a spark arced between them. Good kisser, not too wet a mouth, tongue teasing and caressing.

  “Oh Adam,” Glyn sighed, moving apart only a centimeter or two to speak. He ran his other hand up Adam’s thigh, then stroked between his legs. Adam felt an instant stir in his belly and started to harden in response. But before Glyn could go further, Adam brought a hand up between them and pushed him back. Not hard but firmly.

  “No. I can’t.”

  “I want you, Adam.” His voice was husky and deeper than usual. It sent a tingle down Adam’s spine, and the temptation surged. Let it happen. Nobody had to know. The darkness would conceal them. He had a feeling Glyn would be good. But he became wary, because this suddenly felt too calculated. Glyn had seemed charming and guileless at first, but then he’d watched Adam and Zach fight and had followed Adam out here, surely knowing he’d be in an unsettled state of mind and not in the best position to make rational choices.