Melt | Book 10 | Chase Read online

  CHAPTER THREE

  AGATHA “AGGIE” EVERLEE, THE SALT MINES.

  Aggie tied Indie to the tree out of the direct line of site of the field and helped Hedwig down off her horse. “You doing okay?”

  Hedwig hadn’t stopped shaking the whole way back, even though Barb had given her a ‘calming tea’ before she sent them on their way. “I’m fine. Just a bit, you know…” She held her bloody shirt away from her arm.

  “It’ll wash off. You’ll be okay once you get cleaned up.”

  Sean dashed out the mine doors. “Hedwig! You scared the living crap out of me. What the hell? I heard that explosion the other side of Barb’s…” He pulled himself to a halt. “Aggie? You’re back?”

  “Looks like it.” She’d been out in the wilds for months—hunting, fishing, and taking care of that other business her mom had tasked her with—so it wasn’t like she thought she was going to be able to slip back into their lives without braving their commentary. There was going to be some wigging out. The trick was to keep it to a minimum.

  “Your dad is going to flip.”

  “You guys head in, I need to rub Indie down and get her settled.” Her horse had been favoring one side on the way back. It wasn’t a limp. More like a hiccup in her rhythm.

  “If you leave again and he doesn’t get to see you, he’ll skin me alive. It was bad enough that I didn’t come back with Hedwig. He just got done tearing a strip off me. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Sean was a good type, but Aggie wasn’t about to allow him to turn himself into her bodyguard or jailer.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Like I said, give me ten minutes.” She unbuckled the saddlebag and lumped it in his arms. “Take the meds in and sort them. Your drug dealers didn’t have a single brain cell between them. Everything’s still in plastic.”

  Sean didn’t keep the jolt of fear from his face, but he did as she asked and took Hedwig and the meds inside.

  “Let me take a look, pretty girl.” She ran her hand down Indie’s leg, feeling for the heat or swelling that might tell her Indie had a strained tendon. It wasn’t like she could find a vet to take a look at her. There was nothing, or at least nothing she could find. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be back out with something special. I bet I can find you some oats.” Apples and carrots were a thing of the past, but oats they had by the bagful.

  Indie leaned into her, nuzzling her arm.

  “I love you, too, sweet girl. Believe me, if I could skip this next bit and just spend time with you, I’d do it.” She felt for the little key in her pocket. She still hadn’t figured out what it opened, but she’d done her absolute best. Time to admit defeat and ask her dad if he knew what it was for.

  “Aggie? Is it really you?” She’d missed his voice so much the sound of it almost made her cry.

  “Hey, Dad. I’m baaaaaaaaaaack.”

  He wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her close. “Thank you for letting us know you were okay. The baskets you left—” He wiped his face on the back of his sleeve. “The food was good, but the message was better.”

  That was what she’d wanted; for them not to worry too much. She had a job to do and no amount of them grumping at her would have been able to stop her from doing it.

  “Where’ve you been?” He steered them toward the mines.

  “Took a couple of weeks and went to Turkey. Great food. Fantastic coffee.” She peeled his arm from her shoulders and shucked her coat by the door. “Probably should still be cautious about transmission.”

  “Right! Right. There are coveralls in the box by the bench. All sizes. All cotton, too, if you can believe that.”

  She could because she’d boosted them a couple of months earlier when she’d stumbled on an out-of-the-way service station that hadn’t been completely ransacked. She’d found the old couple in their bedroom. They’d done a Titanic and pushed the boat out together. There was no note with a fancy explanation or condemnation. Just the two of them, hand in hand, with the bottle of pills by the bedside. She’d said a prayer over their bodies then carefully pillaged everything pre-plastic she could find. She’d learned, in the months she’d been out on her own, that old houses and old people yielded, hands down, the best hauls. “I’ll be a couple of minutes. What are you using to decontaminate stuff now?”

  Bill pointed at a tub by the door. “Salt. Everything is rubbed in, doused in, scrubbed in salt.” He hovered, unable to take his eyes off her. “I’m so happy, Agg… So happy.”

  She waited until he was safely out of sight, stripped, left her outdoor clothes in the decon tub, swapped her shoes out for slip-on booties, and made her way down the shaft and through the warren of dimly-lit corridors. When she finally rounded the corner and entered the main room, her father lifted the mallet and struck the dinner gong.

  “You have got to be shitting me.” Paul was the first to arrive. “You absolute freak. We were out of our minds with worry. It was one thing, back in the day, to take off for your—”

  Petra squealed as she rounded the corner, belly first like the proverbial sail. Aggieeeeeeeeeee…” She threw her arms open and wrapped Aggie in a stranglehold, squidging the not-very-squidgy baby between them. “You’re a bad girl. No one else will say it, so I have to.”

  “No, I told her.” Paul was the other side of her, turning the greeting into an Aggie-Twin sandwich. “You can’t do that again, Agg. We have to stick together.” Petra’s hand went to the side of her belly.

  “Is he kicking?” Aggie wasn’t big on pregnancies or babies, but it was interesting to see her sister puffed up like a balloon and happy about it.

  “Only like a whole soccer team. Tssssss.” She sucked the air in through her teeth. “Nothing to worry about. Just a little pang.”

  “Take a seat, honey, while I go and tell your grandmother the good news.” Bill helped Petra to her place by the wall just in time for Mouse, the dachshund, to make an appearance. Of the entire welcoming committee, he was the most chill. He sniffed Aggie’s leg then went to lie by Petra, his favorite Everlee.

  Bryony held Midge’s hand across the length of the room, then backed up to give her a chance to say hello. Midge blinked and smiled. Her eyes had changed in the months Aggie had been away. It wasn’t that they were focused all the way, but Aggie was sure Midge was looking at her and seeing. How was it that no one had told her that? Her little sister getting her frigging sight back should have had top billing. She made a mental note to ask Paul or her dad when Midge wasn’t in earshot.

  “Aggie?”

  “Yes, Midgelette?” Her baby sis had grown a couple of inches in the time she’d been away. She wasn’t out of her ‘little girl’ phase just yet, but a few more months and she’d be a young person.

  “Why did you go away?” The tone wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t without an edge either.

  “I had to do some chores. We can talk about it later.” She had no intention of talking to Midge about anything she’d done while she’d been away, but all ears were on her and she didn’t want to draw more attention to herself. “Where’s Nigel?” He had to be around to deliver the baby because she sure as shit wasn’t going to do it.

  “Nigel disappeared.” Paul was back by the door, glancing down the corridor. He needed to be with Hedwig.

  “Disappeared?” She wanted to tell him to go and take care of his girlfriend. Hedwig had suffered a real trauma. But she wanted answers more. “Why?”

  “We don’t know why. Same day as Dr. Handel. We lost our doctor and our nurse without a word of explanation. We think it probably had something to do with the money.”

  “Or rather the lack of it,” her father added. “Not Sean’s fault. There is no monetary system anymore. Even if there’d been a way to contact his parents, the banks have to have collapsed by now. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Ooh.” Petra stuck her legs out in front of her. “Ooh, that doesn’t feel good.”

  “Is she having contractions?” Aggie wasn’t s
ure who she was talking to, because who knew what contractions truly looked like? She’d only been eight when Midge was born and the twins weren’t that much older. Certainly not old enough to learn how to deliver a kid by seeing it done once.

  “Breathe…” Paul puffed out a few jets of air. “We’d best get you back to your room.”

  Between them they managed to get Petra to her feet in time for her water to break.

  “Oh. Oh, no. It’s time…”

  “Sean!” Aggie hollered down the corridor as they stumbled into the dark. “Sean! The baby’s coming!”

  “I’ll get him.” Midge was more sure-footed than any of them in the dark. She scuttled off ahead of them, shouting Sean’s name.

  “Ugh. They’re close together.” Petra jerked with the strength of the contraction, her feet dragging on the ground.

  “Can you lift her up, Agg?” Paul had slung Petra’s arm around his shoulders and snaked his arm around her waist.

  “I’m not as tall as you.”

  Petra doubled over, screaming. “Bed. I need bed. I want to… Oooooooooooh.”

  “Hold tight, Petunia.” It was his old-old name for his twin. Aggie couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard it. He slid his free arm under her knees, swooped her off the ground and stumbled the rest of the way. Together they managed to get her in to bed, right as Sean arrived.

  “Water’s on the boil. I’ve got the towels. Tell me what else she needs.”

  Petra howled. Aggie had seen births on the TV and none of them had accelerated like that. It was too much, too soon.

  “We’ve got the rope, the brandy, the disinfectant.”

  The room had been thoroughly prepped. Aggie couldn’t see a speck of dust. “What’s the rope for?” She’d seen horses pulled from their mothers, but never humans.

  “Something for her to pull on. Mimi saw it on an episode of The Spanish Princess, I think.” Paul had rolled his sleeves up and was scrubbing up to his elbows. “Breathe, Petra. Nice and even.”

  There were no even breaths, just jagged gasps and screaming.

  Bill edged his way into the room, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. “You doing okay, my dear?”

  “I am not doing okay. I want all of you out of here. Out!” The words gave way to shrieks as Petra grimaced and held her belly.

  “You can’t do this alone.” Aggie at least knew that much. “Who did the most training?”

  “I did.” Sean and Paul spoke at the same time.

  “Yeah, well, you’re the dad so you should probably stay and help.” Paul took a couple of steps toward the exit, eyes on his sister. “But I’ll be right outside the door if you change your mind.”

  Sean grabbed Aggie as she passed him. “I want you to stay and help me.”

  She couldn’t very well stay. Not after they’d all been ordered out. “Sis? What do you say?” It was Petra’s show and she wasn’t about to override her sister. But it turned out that Petra was beyond language so Aggie scrubbed up and sorted the birthing equipment. It was rudimentary, but she consoled herself with the thought that women had been doing this for centuries. Millenia even.

  “I want my mommmmmmmmmmm!!!!!” It was the last thing Aggie had expected to hear. Petra was crouched on the bed on all fours, one hand on the rope, the other grasping at Sean. “I’ve got to push. I can’t wait.” She hiked up her skirt and bore down hard.

  “Okay, I guess?”

  Aggie shrugged. “Don’t ask me, dude. I’m new here.”

  “Right, then, another push.” Sean held on tight, occasionally glancing at the birthing end of the operation as if a baby was going to magically make itself appear.

  “I think we should take a look.” Aggie waited until Petra was between contractions and lifted her skirt, which had fallen back around her knees. “Oh, shit.”

  “What’s oh shit? Don’t you oh shit me.” Her older sister managed to cuss between gasps, then leaned her head into Sean and groaned.

  “I can see a foot.”

  The screaming wasn’t just coming from Petra anymore. There were voices in the corridor, Mimi’s among them. “Out of my way.” Her grandmother had shrunk and folded over since Aggie had last seen her. “Show me.”

  Aggie pulled back the curtain on the horror.

  “Right.” Mimi huffed as she lowered herself onto the bed. “You’re going to push it back inside her.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a breech birth. We’re going to need to move the baby…”

  “I can’t push it back inside.”

  “Push it back inside!” Petra and Sean were closely matched in hysteria, though Petra had more sweat and Sean more panic.

  The foot was so tiny she could hardly bear to push it but, little by little, she guided the baby back inside.

  “Petra, listen to me.” Mimi had both hands on her own stomach. She wasn’t in as much pain as her granddaughter, but she wasn’t comfortable either. “You’re too far along to turn the head toward the cervix.”

  “What does that mean?” Sean wiped his hands down his trousers.

  “We have two choices. We can deliver by cesarean or we can attempt a vaginal birth.”

  “Oh, shit.” Sean wasn’t doing well. “She can’t survive a cesarean. I don’t know how, do you?”

  Mimi took Petra’s hand from Sean. “Can you hear me, darling? We’re talking about options.”

  “Get it out! Out! OUT!” Petra was beyond reason.

  “Tell me what the choices are, Mimi.” Aggie was used to being in loco parentis. She hadn’t expected to find herself there again, but someone had to make a decision.

  “If we cut her, we may or may not get it right. There are layers I know a little about, but we would need to know how to stitch her back up again.”

  Which meant she didn’t know how to do that. And neither did anyone else.

  “Or we deliver the baby feet first.”

  “And you’ve done that?”

  “I’ve seen it done.” Mimi motioned for the hot water. “You’re going to need to get her to the edge of the bed.

  Easier said than done. It took her and Sean several agonizing minutes—sweating, swearing, swiveling—to get Petra in the position Mimi wanted her.

  “Now, small push.” Mimi was on the floor, guiding the baby. The baby’s bottom emerged, then her feet flopped out. She was slick with blood, her little body barely the size of a doll. “Good, good…” The head hadn’t emerged but Mimi stopped. “Wait. Don’t push.” She reached between Petra’s legs and fiddled with the umbilical cord. “Okay. Stay right there. Good. Good. Okay, now we want a light push.”

  “What do you mean? She’s not out. She’s just hanging…”

  “Yep.”

  Aggie watched in horror as Mimi eased the baby’s arms free. “The head’s not out.”

  “Petra, I need you to lean back. No, not that far. Good. Yes. Stay there.” Mimi wiped her cheek on her shoulder. Aggie found a towel and mopped mother and midwife, in that order.

  “I need to feel for the baby’s mouth.” Mimi was never more in control, more calm, more centered or radiant than she was in that moment. She reached in, tilted the baby’s head—“OK honey, big push! Now!”— and with a massive roar from Petra, held her granddaughter in her hands. “Scissors.” She rubbed the baby’s back, patting her, then cleared her nose and mouth. “Come on little one. Come and meet your mom.”

  The child let them all hang in the silence for a full minute before she sputtered and cried. Petra reached for her baby while Sean cut the cord, Mimi delivered the afterbirth, and Aggie tidied the supplies, all three of them crying tears of relief.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” Aggie was in awe of her grandmother’s prowess.

  “Saw it on one of my shows.”

  Her blood chilled for a second, then rushed back in a surge. “A show?”

  “Call The Midwife. It’s one of my English period dramas. I always knew they’d come in handy one day.” She swish
ed her hands in the bowl and held them out for a towel.

  “Can we come in?” Bill was at the door, sheepish and eager and smiling. “Oh, Petra. Good job, honey. Very well done.”

  “She looks like a Nugget.” Midge clung to her father’s leg, peering at her new niece. Amazing that her eyesight would be fully operational for a moment like this.

  “A nugget of sunshine.” Petra couldn’t take her eyes off her little girl. “Your name is Roxana. Roxy for short, but Midge will call you Nugget.”

  Aggie slipped away while the family fell in love with their newest ray of sunshine. That was a lot of peopling for one day and she’d gotten used to being on her own. She shucked her bloody coveralls by the back door, found a fresh pair, slipped on her shoes, and slid into the woods to find Indie.

  She stopped, confused. Her horse was gone. She’d left her right there, in the trees, not far from the salt mine. She took a step. Then another. “No!” Indie was on the ground, on her side, blood at her flaring nostrils. “No. No, no, no.” Aggie heaved Indie’s head into her lap. “What happened, girl?” The tears slid down her nose and spattered Indie’s beautiful muzzle. “I didn’t mean to… I was going to…” She’d known something wasn’t right after the explosion knocked them sideways up by the quarry, but she’d ridden her anyway. No, worse! She’d allowed Hedwig to ride her, too. Two riders was never a good deal for a horse and she’d asked Indie to shoulder more than her share of the weight, when she was critically injured.

  “I’m sorry.” Words were never going to be enough. Her sorrow was never going to be enough. She was never going to forgive herself. She stroked and petted and crooned at her friend until, with one last shuddering breath, Indie let go.

  Aggie didn’t howl like Petra, or sob like Sean, or weep like her father, but her heart broke into a million pieces as she keened silently over the body of her horse.