Chapter Seven

Two hours later, a sliver of hope finally emerged.

Tristan had tried to find a possible exit in multiple places to no avail before finally discovering a spot that had just the right combination of support beams keeping the wreckage steady and looser debris that could be cleared aside to make a path outward.

Once he had found it, he scrabbled at it for over an hour, carefully digging through pieces of wood and piles of molding roofing tiles. His hands were becoming scratched up, his skin raw, but he persisted. Every once in a while, he tested the soundness of the tunnel he was making by cautiously pressing on each side of it. So far, it had held firm and looked like it would continue to do so.

Unfortunately, Tristan's progress had been slowed down by the need to tend to Siegfried from time to time. Siegfried's fever had risen, and he alternated between chills and complaints of sweltering heat. His nausea increased as well and had led to a couple bouts of vomiting even though he soon had nothing left to expel.

Tristan did what he could to keep Siegfried comfortable while also making sure to periodically check on Siegfried's wound and his vitals. The flesh around the gash had become inflamed, and Siegfried's breathing was slowly becoming congested. Both of them knew how serious these signs were even if neither of them said a word about it aloud.

Siegfried loathed having to rely on Tristan to take care of his every need and had groused about it more than once. However, Siegfried was also aware that he had little choice in the matter and that Tristan was doing the best he could. Thus, he tried to keep his complaints to a minimum while somewhat astonished at how stoic Tristan was throughout this. Something that worried and irritated Siegfried in equal measure.

After yet another short nap, Siegfried finally woke up feeling far more lucid than he had in hours.

"Any luck?" he asked. Tristan turned toward him. His face and hands were smeared with grime.

"I told you 'yes' a few minutes ago," he sighed. "I think I'm almost to the wall. But I'm still not sure about this, Siegfried."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…say I do get to the wall, what then? It's not like I have an axe or a saw in my back pocket, you know. How am I supposed to get through it?"

"My dear boy, I'm sure you can find something around here that you can use to break open a hole. These walls aren't exactly sound. You'll just need to put some muscle into it."

"But what if that brings the whole thing down?" Tristan replied, a whine making it into his tone. "You said yourself that this wreck could fall apart at any minute."

"Tristan…." Siegfried rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "It won't matter at that point because you'll be able to crawl through to the outside. You'll just have to hurry is all."

"Yes, fine, but you'll still be in here. What if…?"

"Tristan." Siegfried paused to cough. "I told you to worry about getting out of here for now. Then we'll think about the rest of it."

Tristan looked like he was going to protest again, but was stopped by Siegfried coughing several more times. That cough was getting worse far too quickly. He needed to get to a hospital as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, his little brother went over to the pump and got himself a drink, wincing at the aftertaste of grit. Then he refilled the pill bottle and crawled over to Siegfried to offer him some of it.

Siegfried managed to take a couple of swallows before his stomach began to churn again. Wanting to avoid another round of sickness, he refused the rest of it.

At first, it looked like Tristan was going to toss the rest of it away, but then he sat the bottle down and reached under his sweater to tear a piece of his shirt off. He poured the rest of the water onto the scrap of fabric and dabbed it against Siegfried's forehead.

Siegfried closed his eyes. The cool cloth did feel good against his flushed, prickly skin. He turned his face toward the touch and for a moment, he forgot that he was supposed to be prodding Tristan to get back to work.

"Siegfried?"

"Mmm, what is it?"

"…I'm sorry."

"Tristan, how many times do I have to tell you that it's not your fault that I'm…."

"No, no it's not that." Siegfried heard his little brother take a deep breath. "I'm sorry about failing my exams again. Honest, Siegfried, I did try. I thought for sure that I was going to get it this time. But then the day came, and well…I guess what I did wasn't enough after all. And I know you tried to make sure I was ready and have tried so hard to help me get a handle on my studies. I, I did appreciate it, Siegfried. I just…anyway, I'm sorry that it turned out that way again."

Siegfried opened his eyes. Tristan was still blotting his forehead with the scrap of wet cloth, but his little brother's gaze was fixed on some undefined spot on the floor next to him.

There had been many times when Siegfried had wondered if Tristan actually cared about his studies or becoming qualified. It was a completely understandable question, in Siegfried's opinion. Especially given Tristan's usual feckless behavior and lazy habits. Consequently, he often thought that the frustration he had seen in his younger brother was mainly due to the 'corrective measures' Siegfried had employed to encourage Tristan back onto the path of cleaner, more productive living.

Deep down, though, Siegfried also suspected that it was demoralizing for Tristan to keep failing over and over. It was something Tristan was unaccustomed to as his little brother had done remarkably well in school growing up. Granted, some of that was due to plenty of tutoring coupled with firm kicks to the backside when needed. Both of which were courtesy of his ever-watchful older brother.

Still, Tristan was far from unintelligent and had always been able to pick up anything he put his mind to. While it was true that his little brother could be lazy, he still had the Farnon pride. A pride that was sure to be taking a thorough beating when his efforts, such as they were in Siegfried's eyes, came to nothing repeatedly.

"Tristan…is this what you still want? To become a vet?"

Tristan's cheeks turned red as he finally looked up at him. "Siegfried, I…."

"Just…answer the question. Is this what you want?"

A pout appeared on Tristan's face as he answered without hesitation. "Yes, of course it is."

"All right then," Siegfried nodded. "Then we shall keep trying."

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "We?"

"Of course," Siegfried replied. "Who else is going to hammer all sorts of practical experience into you? Or help with your revision? Or just make sure you don't become a hopelessly idle shirker? Mind you, it's your future, so I expect you to put in most of the work. But you won't be going at it alone. And I'm sure James could provide you with additional assistance if you need it. You could learn plenty from watching him as well."

Siegfried grabbed Tristan's arm and squeezed it. "Don't forget though, that I am your brother and that, if you remember correctly, I made a promise to help you get through veterinary college. And I plan to see it through. So we'll keep trying, little brother. Until you become qualified, we'll keep at it, no matter what."

Tristan gulped and turned his face away again which made Siegfried frown in response. Had he said the wrong thing? Perhaps Tristan felt slighted by the idea that he would need so much help to become qualified.

"Siegfried…." Tristan still did not look at him, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

The words seemed sincere, but Siegfried could not understand why his little brother sounded so sad. He squeezed Tristan's arm again, hoping it would shake him out of this unexpected gloom.

"I, I should be getting back to work," Tristan mumbled. He sat the cloth across one of the bags and crawled back over to the makeshift tunnel he had carved out of the wreckage.

Siegfried watched Tristan dig until he could no longer keep his eyes open, although the pain was not allowing him to completely drop off to sleep.

He wondered what James and Helen were doing at that moment. Surely, they would have noticed that he and Tristan were missing last night. Siegfried was fairly certain that he had told Mrs. Hall where they were going. Mostly certain. His memory wasn't always the best, and right now, it was even worse than usual.

Still, Siegfried tried to make a habit out of telling someone whenever he knew he'd be gone for an extended period of time. So it was impossible to believe that nobody would be concerned over their absence. A search would have started by now.

Problem was, they were stuck in a rather isolated area outside Darrowby. There were no farms and no houses. Just a lonely road that people sometimes used to get to Brawton. And this barn, what was left of it, was almost a mile off that road. Anyone who found the car would have to search a wide area in order to find it. That and they'd have to have the presence of mind to come close enough to investigate these ruins rather than simply pass them by thinking that no one would dare go into such a dilapidated structure.

Siegfried sighed. Their best chance by far was for Tristan to get out of this barn and go for help. It was why Siegfried wished his little brother would stop wasting time on him and stay focused on the task at hand. And be quicker about it.

An hour later, Tristan crawled out from his tunnel and woke Siegfried up by placing a pair of fingers to his elder brother's neck to check his pulse.

"I'm sure it's no different from the last time you checked it," Siegfried grumbled. "Get back to working on that tunnel."

"It's all finished, Siegfried," Tristan said, frowning. "I just need to punch a hole in the wall, and I'm out."

"Well? Get on with it then."

"Siegfried, I don't like this. That wall…well, there was this awful groaning noise when I started to push against it a few minutes ago."

"My dear boy, what did you expect? This miserable old wreck has been making noises like that for hours. It would do that even if you were just sitting around here doing nothing, a state you're quite familiar with."

"Still though, I don't like the sound of it. Or leaving you alone. What if you need me for something?"

"Tristan, as diligent as you've been in my care, there's only so much you can do for me. What I need is for you to get help as soon as possible."

Siegfried paused, noting the doubt still in Tristan's eyes. He patted his little brother's hand.

"I'm familiar enough with your reckless, devil-may-care way of driving to know that it won't take much time at all for you to reach Darrowby. I'll be fine for the short interval you'll be gone. Now, buzz off, little brother."

Tristan continued to hesitate until finally nodding and giving Siegfried's hand one last squeeze before crawling back to the tunnel, picking up a broken spade he had found to use on the wall.

A minute later, Siegfried could hear banging as Tristan hacked at the wall.

"Come on, Tristan," he shouted. "Put your back into it."

"I'm trying, Siegfried. It's not…wait…."

The banging sound grew louder, and Siegfried chose to ignore the answering creaks he heard from the walls around him.

"Siegfried…I think…yes, it's…."

Siegfried was distracted from his younger brother's triumphant shouts by a loud snapping sound above him.

"Siegfried? What…?"

"Shut up, Tristan and get out of here!" Siegfried yelled. "Hurry, man!"

The barn groaned even louder, the cracking and snapping sounds coming from every direction.

Instinctively, Siegfried tried squirming away, but was still pinned in place by the beams over his legs. He was trapped, unable to dodge any of the debris that was sure to fall onto him. Siegfried closed his eyes and placed his arms over his head, bracing himself.

Then, Siegfried let out a soft groan of surprise when something did fall against him. Something warm and soft. He opened his eyes and moved his arms apart to see Tristan hunched over him. His little brother's eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw rigid, as he stayed in place and let debris from the ceiling strike him instead.

"Tristan, you idiot! Get back in that tunnel before…."

A thunderous crash resounded, drowning out the rest of Siegfried's words. The walls folded downward, bringing the ceiling closer to them and smashing the windows shut. Most of the light disappeared as the barn continued to collapse.

One of the rafters splintered apart and a stray board fell off. An end of it struck Tristan in the head. Tristan moaned and fell forward, boneless, and rolled to the side as he lost consciousness. Siegfried tried to grab his little brother and pull him back closer to him, but Tristan was just out of his reach.

Long, terrifying moments later, the cataclysm finally stopped and the barn grew quiet again. It was only barely standing now. The space they were in had shrunk by half in all directions. Siegfried was grateful that the room still had not crashed down completely, but that was only a small comfort.

One that vanished when he looked over at Tristan's still body lying next to him. His little brother was lying on his stomach, blood tricking down the side of his face.

"Tristan? Tristan! Come on, Tristan! Wake up!"

Siegfried yelled at him more than once, but it was no use. His little brother did not stir at all. Siegfried stared at him for several seconds, finally letting out a choked sigh of relief when he was able to see that Tristan was still breathing.

He turned frantic eyes to the shattered walls around him. Tristan should have been outside. Should have escaped and been safe. Now, his younger brother's predicament was even worse than it was a few minutes ago. The nightmares that had appeared in vague, disjointed pieces whenever he'd fallen asleep had come to life.

And it was his fault. If he hadn't pushed Tristan to move too quickly before he knew it was safe…if Tristan hadn't felt the obligation to stay behind and…and….

Siegfried craned his neck and stretched his hand out even more.

"Tristan, please…please wake up," he begged. "You, you have to get out of here. Please…."

Tristan remained unresponsive, and Siegfried knew that, if he hadn't already been gravely injured and trapped under a pile of debris, his dearest wish would be that he could trade places with his little brother.