Chapter 2.
'Clark….. Clark……'
'…….Clive!'
'Wha…?' Clive opened his eyes. The inexplicable images in his head faded before he had the chance to analyse them, to be replaced with a hewn stone ceiling. He was lying on a cart in one of the upper corridors of the mines.
'He's alive,' breathed a voice. It turned out to belong to Cherie.
'We thought you were a goner, man,' said Pedro. 'Glad to see you back in the land of the living.'
'If you can call it that,' muttered Cherie.
'What…? What happened?' mumbled Clive. He could feel his strength returning, but he decided to remain lying down for the time being until he gathered his bearings.
'You collapsed, you great wuss,' mocked Pedro. 'Near the cave-in. Had to drag you all the way up here before you started breathing again.'
Damn, thought Clive. He felt so embarrassed. 'What about the others? Are they safe?'
'Don't worry,' said a new voice. 'The cave-in is cleared. Everyone is safe.'
Clive struggled into a sitting position to get a view of the stranger.
'Commandant!' he stammered. 'What are you doing here, sir?'
The Commandant lowered his baldness to Clive's level, a benign smile on his open face.
'Just paying my loyal workers a motivational visit,' he explained. 'I believe a hands-on approach is best for moral, don't you… Clive, isn't it?'
'Yes, sir!' agreed Clive. The Commandant remembered his name! He felt so special. Few people were paid personal visits by the Commandant, even if this meeting was by mere chance.
'Please, Clive,' said the Commandant. 'Call me Les. A little informality hurt no one. Well I must be moving on now. I can see you're feeling better already. Keep up the good work, people.'
And with that the Commandant strolled away down the corridor. Clive turned to watch him leave.
'Patronising *******,' muttered Pedro, after he was clearly out of earshot.
'Hey, he seems all right to me,' rebuked Clive.
'How do you get those asterisks to come out your mouth like that?' asked Cherie.
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Clive spent the rest of the day pushing and pulling wagons up the passageways. By the time the evening meal klaxon sounded he was fully recovered. Indeed, he'd never felt stronger. Something began nagging at his brain.
'Cherie,' he said, when they were sat down in the canteen, 'You remember earlier you were talking about there being "somewhere else"?'
'Vaguely, yes,' said Cherie, looking slightly puzzled.
'Well when I blacked out I felt as if… just for a moment… there was something different. Like I was elsewhere.' He frowned. 'I don't know… it all seems so vague.'
'I wouldn't worry about it, Clive,' said Pedro dismissively. 'You stopped breathing for a while. Your brain was probably just going schitzo.'
'Yeah, you're probably right, Pedro.'
Clive pushed the strange feeling to the back of his mind.
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Martha struggled again against her restraints. It was no good. She was held far too tightly to move. She called Clark's name one last time before fatigue overcame her and she succumbed to a fitful sleep, one arm splayed over the bulge of her pregnancy.
