The Last Coffee Shop

Chapter 27: I'm Here to <R-e-s-c-u-e> Ruin You

Mads felt herself blush and she wanted to strangle him, tear that expression off of his face with her ragged nails, shove him back into the pits of fire and lava, or, or, just . . . She couldn't finish the thought and she was too angry for caution, so she ripped her hand away and plunged into the passage beyond them.

And then the ground disappeared from under her feet. Mads couldn't even scream, her robe was in her mouth. Sand hit her face, scraped her raw, and Mads closed her eyes and tried not to panic. 

She couldn't breathe.

And then she was being hauled back up, which hurt even worse. Her arms seemed to be wrenching out of their sockets, again, and the pain was making her woozy. Or maybe that was the lack of oxygen.

She heard a faraway voice, shouting at her. And then she gagged, heaved, spewing sand and saliva out onto the rock that was also tearing into her shoulder. She felt her chest collapse (or fill up?), as rough hands hit her square in the back. Hands, or ropes, seemed to be shifting and pulling and rearranging her limbs, like she was a broken doll.

"Hey! Angry, can you hear me?"

Breathing made it easier to think, and Mads slowly recalled where she was. But why was everything still dark? She tried to open her eyes and felt them twitch. They were sore and grainy, as if she had a bad case of pink eye. But they finally opened, and she could see a dim shade of gray, but nothing else.

Mads was yanked into a sitting position, and she yelped in pain, scrubbing at her eyes with her sore arm. There was grit in her mouth, cutting her tongue and lips, and she spit it out. But there was still more.

"That's right." Luc patted her back, not hard, but firmly. "Get it all out."

Mads spat out more sand and gagged, inhaling razor-edged lungfuls of air in between. She rubbed her gritty eyes again, and this time she could see, though her eyes were bleary with tears from the irritation.

Luc crouched beside her in a small alcove, green eyes very close and bright, despite the dimness. "Here, drink this." He pressed a small bottle to her mouth, and cool water dripped onto her grimy lips.

Mads' fingers were trembling, her injured hands clawed into protective fists, but she still managed to take the bottle herself. After some more spitting and gagging, most of the sand seemed to be out of her mouth.

"I hope you've learned your lesson about just charging off," said Luc, but his tone was light, gentle even.

Mads kept her eyes on the cave wall, so she wouldn't have to look at him. He saved your life, again. Mads glowered, clenching the bottle until her knuckles were white. It was his fault she'd been in danger in the first place. But you chose to come down here.

"You okay?" asked Luc, unaware of her internal debate. He placed a tentative hand on her (sore) right shoulder. "Nothing felt broken, when I checked."

Mads yelped in horror. "What?" She whipped her head around, smacking his face with her sand-crusted dreads.

Luc winced. Up close, she could see that his pupils weren't that strange after all. They were almost circular, like hers and those of every other human she'd met. Must have imagined that.

"Well, your angriness, I could have left you in that sinkhole." He wrinkled his nose. "I know I'm a bad person, but I'm not that kind of bad person. I needed to make sure nothing was broken. And just so you know, I excel at setting bones. Lots of practice. Not only humans."

Mads glared at him, even if she knew she was being unreasonable. "I bet. And don't call me that."

"What? Your name is too long, and your nickname too apt. Mads. Is there ever a time when you're not angry?" His frown slid into a smile faster than she could blink, revealing pointy teeth and those cursed dimples.