One fluke and two dummies

Copyright: I don't own the characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and I do not intend to infringe any copyright, trade mark or patent. But the idea for the story was mine… :-)

Authors Note: This time I tried to hurry, but after ten lines I lost my concept paper without which I am stuck! I had everything planned on it – and now it's gone. Well, I had to think all over again, this is why this chap took so long! But now: Enough of my apologizing and voilà, here's the new chapter! -

Chapter 8 – Labour Pains

The thunderstorm was at its maximum. Glaring lightenings cut through the dark sky almost every few seconds and the air was heavy of the smell of wet earth. The two men stumbled forward, not being able to see where exactly they were going, but they had to move on. Even though they were both wet to the bone and with no end in sight.
Ned had almost lost Roxton a several times, because he could see hardly anything. The hard raindrops cut into the skin of his face like a thousand needles. He had never known how bad storms could really be until he had come to the plateau...

Finally they could do nothing but take a rest under a large tree and wait for bettering.

Ned didn't have a good feeling about it, sitting around and waiting – and he knew that Roxton felt the same. As if John had read his mind, he asked:

"What if it is the wrong decision to wait? He might be caught in this storm, too. But he is alone, while we are twosome."

Ned willingly nodded. "If we just knew, where to look for him..." He thought for a moment. "I think I remember there were mountains west from here. With caves and long tunnels. If he has been somwhere around there, he might have taken shelter in one of those caverns – what do you think?"

"Yes" John nodded. "This seems quite likely. ... Do you think you're able to find the way? Even in this thunderstorm?"

Now it was Ned, who nodded. "I will."

The two men stood up and grabbed their rifles. Then they stepped into the pouring rain, but they didn't care for that they were already wet to the bone and freezing in the cold air. It didn't matter – they had to find their friend, and they knew he would have done the same for them.

So they went ahead, but there had been a little change: Now it was Malone who led the small group. The grim expression on the young man's face showed his strong will to find the right way in time...Veronica was desperate. The storm had moved on westward, although very slowly, but lightening and thunder still filled the night, merciless rain striking at the roof and tearing it apart. The loud patter mingled with steady sobs, now and then disrupted by cries. As she turned her head, her eyes met Marguerite who tossed and turned in bed and suffered from the labour pains which had come sooner each time over the last two hours.
Veronica wanted to help her, but didn't know how. And this helplessness was the worst of all.

She used to be such a tough woman and the jungle used to be her home, but now she felt so out of place. Her parents hadn't told her much about giving birth. Veronica still flushed when she remembered that before Ned she hadn't even known where babies really came from... It had been so embarassing...

But that wasn't the point now. None of the two women knew what to do, which was even worse for Marguerite. Something was happening to her – in her – that she didn't know how to deal with.

They could only hope that everything would be alright. Cold comfort.

"Veronica...", Marguerite's voice resounded tantalised from the bed and she lifted her hand and reached for her friend's.

With a few quick steps, Veronica walked to the bed, took Marguerite's hand and sat down on the edge of the bed. She gently stroke the woman's hot forehead and wiped away small pearls of sweat and wet strands of her dark, curly hair. It broke her heart to see Marguerite suffer and she would have given her right hand to know about obstetrics.

Marguerite's body camped and she groaned with pain. Then the labour pain faded, at least for one or maybe a few minutes.

Veronica could feel Marguerite's body relax a little and squeezed her hand.

"You're doing this very well, dear", she whispered softly and smiled bravely although she felt like crying.

Marguerite sighed exhaustedly and opened her eyes, which were shining febrilely.

"Where's John?", she asked with a trembling voice. "Where is he?"

"He'll soon be back, honey", Veronica replied with a forced smile and caressed Marguerite's cheek, which was all she could do now.

She hoped the men would be back.

All of them.

To be continued…

It's a rather short chapter - the next one will be longer, again. But in this place there had to be a cut.
Keep on reviewing and thanx a lot to all of you who do take their time and give me a feedback!