Something new was happening. It was very new and very strange. The air took on a new feel. It was still heavy but it felt fresh on his skin. Fresh and new. John couldn't quite figure out how deep he was by now but his feet were pulsing with a biting pain and his arms hurt from carrying the lovely bulk that was Sadina for so long. She was unconscious by now and he could feel blood starting to seep past the bandage onto his arm. But John hadn't really wanted to stop until they could breathe again. He didn't think he could go much further but perhaps…perhaps God was on his side right now. Perhaps there was air now. It was worth a shot.
As if responding on their own, his legs gave out and he stumbled to a shaky halt on the never ending staircase. Settling Sadina down next to him and setting his light to his other side, John reached up to pull his respirator out. His hand hovered near his mouth for a moment. But only for a moment. With eager fingers, John pulled the metal from his mouth and breathed in through his nose. Musty oxygen rushed into his lungs. Musty…but breathable. God was on his side. John sighed and leaned his head back against a slimy wall. Slime was a new texture down here. Slime indicated fluid. Fluid indicated life, if only on the most basic single celled level.
Life was good.
Although, knowing his luck, the life would come at him with claws and very sharp teeth…
Back to current affairs… John turned his attention back to the prone woman. He gently pulled the metal piece from her mouth and rubbed away a speck of dirt on her forehead. Sadina didn't stir. John shined his light down on her leg. The crimson stain had spread out over the makeshift bandage. John bit his lip. He dug around in his pack and pulled out the same stuff Sadina had slathered on his back nearly a full day ago. There was nothing else resembling a needle or something to close the gash so John would have to settle for medicine and a tight bandage. He used a knife to tear a bigger hole in Sadina's pants, feeling his cheeks flush as he did it. Using water from his canteen, he flushed out the wound. It went deeper then he'd originally thought.
"John?" Sadina sounded confused and groggy. Did he have to worry about concussion?
"Hey, you know you really shouldn't have stepped where you did." John said lightly.
"No kidding…" She mumbled then hissed as he started to rub the medicine into the wound. John smiled sympathetically.
"Do you hurt anywhere else? Other than your leg I mean." John asked.
"Everywhere." She grumbled. "But nothing like broken bones if that's what you're thinking."
"What about your head?" He tried to keep the panic from his voice but it still crept into it.
"It hurts." Sadina said simply. She closed her eyes and bit her lip.
"Sorry."
"Mm…my stomach just rolled over." She mumbled. John stared at her a second then quickly wrapped up her leg and grabbed his light.
"Let me look at your eyes." He ordered. She didn't resist as he pried open an eyelid. John inwardly cursed. "Do you know what a concussion is?" He asked. She slowly shook her head. "It's…kinda like when you hit your head really hard."
"We call that hitting your head really hard." Sadina said playfully. John snorted a laugh.
"Yeah well, it's not good for you."
"And here I was thinking that my bi-weekly head hitting would clear up my skin. Don't treat me like a child just because our cultures are different."
"Right. Sorry."
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"So how far should we be from the underworld?" John asked nonchalantly.
"Not too far. I think."
"Good. We'll start moving again in a bit." He promised. John wanted to leave now but he could hardly stand much less carry Sadina down a flight of stairs. He pulled out a thin blanket and wrapped it around her. He told her to sleep, promising himself that he would wake her every two hours. Once she was relatively settled, John sat back and dug out some food. As he ate, he watched her. She couldn't be down here anymore. She needed medical help. And he couldn't give it to her. John mused that he had two options. Neither option was appealing. There were two ways out of here; with a group or just the twosome. And he highly doubted that he could sneak past an army with a woman in his arms. It was infuriatingly frustrating being in the sucky position he was in. He had next to zero leverage. Except for one sucky ace up his sleeve…
oOo
Rolend knew he was close. Tantalizingly close. The man was easy to track in the thick dust of the lower levels. Almost too easy. Sheppard was smart so why was he leaving such an obvious trail? Why was he virtually boxing himself into the stairwell? More importantly, this behavior didn't fit a hardened criminal mastermind. The man was running yes, but who wouldn't in his situation.
Rolend leaned back against the ancient wall. The air was filled with the quiet murmur of a dozen respirators as his men and women settled down to rest. They'd been marching steadily for over a day now. All of them were exhausted. Rolend let his eyes slide shut and his mind wander as his breathing slowed and his muscles relaxed. And then his lungs froze for a millisecond as a cold metal blade pressed up against his jugular. Perhaps Sheppard was more criminal than he thought…
A rough hand gripped the back of Rolend's shirt collar and pulled upwards. He scrambled to his feet. The blade stayed in place while the hand pulled the collar sideways, down the wide staircase. Rolend forced himself to stay calm; panicking would only result in his blood all over the never ending steps. He could hear the uneven breaths behind him. Those were the sounds of an injured man. If it came down to hand to hand combat, Rolend mused that he could possibly beat Sheppard. Although, desperation drove a man's body to extremes.
They walked for hours. Down down down into the abyss. Sheppard never showed himself, never pushed Rolend to hard, never hurt him. There was just a constant pressure on his neck. Sometime after they'd left Rolend's people, Sheppard turned on a light, the blue glow bouncing off the walls of the staircase. In another hour, his people would come after them. Surely Sheppard guessed this…
Quite abruptly, Sheppard jerked him to a stop then reached around and yanked out the respirator. Rolend almost panicked then but he held it together…and held what breath he had left.
"You can breathe now." Sheppard said dully. Rolend didn't hesitate, just sucked in the oxygen. "I want a deal." The fugitive said.
"I'm listening." Rolend insisted.
"Sadina didn't do anything. I want her to go free." Sheppard hesitated. "I'll give myself up but she gets immediate medical attention and goes free." Rolend blinked.
Was it really this easy?
"What's wrong with her?" He asked. Sheppard released his hold on him and walked forward. It was the first time Rolend had seen him in a while. The man was haggard and dirty. Thick stubble was morphing into a beard. Smears of dirt covered his clothes so that it was hard to tell their original color. The man walked down the stairs with a pronounced limp. He was a mess.
Rolend followed the man until they came to a large lump on the stairs. Sheppard kneeled down and pulled back a blanket. Addie Savin was under it, curled up into a tight ball with one leg awkwardly sticking up.
"She fell. Tore open her leg and hit her head really hard." Sheppard said gravely. "Sadina didn't have anything to do with Marklov. We didn't even meet until after my week in the prison. I only came to her because I found her key card."
Rolend was quiet for a few moments before talking. "So you want to exchange her life for yours?" Sheppard looked sharply at him.
"Yeah."
"What if I said no? You brought me down here alone but you know people will come after me. What could you do with your head start? Kill your friend?"
"Look, I know it's a sucky plan! Don't rub it in!" Sheppard growled. The man was functioning on frayed nerves. Rolend pitied the man. Which is why he was going to share the information that he was…
"Ms. Savin won't be arrested. We've already made a deal with her father." Rolend said simply. Sheppard's shoulders slumped and his eyes closed.
"Thank you." He said quietly. "Did you hurt her father?"
"No."
"Can you get her out of here?" Sheppard asked. His voice sounded small.
"Yes, I'll get her out."
"Thank you."
There were a few moments of awkward silence.
Rolend had seen thousands of criminals in his thirty years in security. He'd personally hunted down hundreds of them. He'd been there to see them cornered; heard every possible excuse and plea bargain. He'd seen them begging and cursing as he gave the final orders for execution. Rolend knew a few things about how to read a man.
Sheppard had done nothing.
"The way I see it, Sadina's safe return was already established. I'm sorry but your surrender is not accepted." Rolend said.
Sheppard stared at him. "What?"
"Mr. Sheppard, we have less than an hour before my people discover my absence. I'd completely abandon you to the terror of the deep but I have spies amongst my team and—"
"And you have to make it look good." Sheppard was still staring.
"Exactly."
The man visibly relaxed. "Thank you." A ghost of a smile flitted across his face.
"I don't know if there is a door to the outside down there but I do know there are dangers down there that you haven't fathomed. Be careful Sheppard. Just because I'm not arresting you doesn't mean I'll come running to your aid."
Sheppard's head bobbed up and down. "Tell…um…tell Sadina…thanks, for me. When she wakes up."
"Of course." Rolend carefully picked up the limp woman and started upwards again. Then he stopped and turned back to the disheveled man. "Good luck Sheppard."