Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evie Read Free Page B

her own blood.
    High above, the vaguely visible break in the floor remained thankfully empty. No shaggy head filled the space, no large eyes peered into the darkness. Intelligent creatures that they were, the llamas had probably moved away to safety and were clustered together, wondering when she was going to climb out of that stupid cavern and finish feeding them.
    She attempted turning onto her knees, but her head pounded, forcing her to take things slowly.
    “Stay awake,” she cautioned herself through labored breaths. “Stay awake. Don’t pass out. Stay awake … ”
    It took all her concentration, but at last she was able to turn onto he r stomach. She felt like a mack erel, soggy and smelly and flopping about.
    With a bit more effort, she forced herself onto her knees and moved forward. Her hands shook. Her fingers were icicles, brittle, numb. Her whole body trembled from the exertion.
    Forcing herself to concentrate, she moved up the rocky incline a few inches. Around her hovered ghostly shapes, suggestions of solid matter, but it was so dark, there could be ten people s tanding be hind her and she wouldn’t be able to see them.
    The air smelled of rotten driftwood and stagnant water. She raised her chin and tried to see the gray opening high overhead. It was distant and dim, but it gave her something to aim for.
    Well, she thought, clamping her jaw tightly closed. Nowhere to go … but up.
    Shoving her foot against the rock, she pushed herself along, edging her way back up the harsh incline. The dark was like a predator, intimidating, smothering, terrorizing. It was as tho ugh she’d been en closed in a tomb. Thank heaven for that jagged bit of gray above her head; without it, she might have gone insane.
    Evie gave herself a mental shake. Not going to think of that now. Just one hand in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. I… can… do… this.
    She blinked and looked up again. Was it her imagination or had the ragged edges of the gap become more defined? Dear God, was it daybreak ? Had she been down here all night?
    A flash of light crossed the chasm.
    “Here!” she shouted, or tried to, but it came out more like a dry croak. Swallowing, she tried again. “Be careful!”
    “Miss Randall? Evie?” A deep voice. Young. Unfamiliar.
    “I’m here!”
    A beam of light slammed straight into her eyes. She blinked, closing her lids against the brightness. “Are you hurt?” he shouted.
    She didn’t recognize his voice, but she didn’t care. As long as he wasn’t the Grim Reaper coming to take her away, she was thrilled to see him.
    A second man called out. “Evangeline?” An older man, his voice blessedly familiar. She nearly burst with joy.
    Edmunds? Thank God. “I’m okay!”
    “Stay where you are,” the first man shouted. “I’ll come down and get you.”
    I am so for that, she thought, feeling vaguely weary, as though she were a helium balloon that had sprung a leak and begun to crumple.
    She closed her eyes. Whoever he was, he sounded strong. Certainly s tronger than she felt at the mo ment.
    Light filled the opening once again, and she watched as a tall man with a flashlight in one hand edged his way through the broken boards to drop onto the rocks about fifteen feet above her head. He flattened his body on the incline and descended, hand over hand, until he was even with her.
    Without prelude he said, “Anything broken?” She felt his breath on her cheek, warm, reassuring. Her rescuer. God, she was so cold.
    “I d-don’t know,” she stumbled. “I don’t think tho.”
    “You don’t think though?”
    “Tho,” she repeated. “Eth, O. Tho.”
    “Oh,” he drawled, suddenly comprehending. “So. You don’t think s 0 .”
    “Yeth.”
    “You must have hit your mouth or bitten your tongue. Can’t say your S’s, right?”
    “Yeth.” Ouch. She had bitten her tongue, and hard. She didn’t realize it had swollen until she’d begun to speak.
    “Did you lose