Ruby slid to the ground, exhausted from screaming. Although unable to look at poor Felicity’s corpse any longer, every time she closed her eyes it was all she could see, in intricate detail. She kept getting flashes of the news image—a vibrant, fun-loving young girl wearing the same multi-coloured jersey that covered the skeleton beside her.
Her neck and the back of her dress felt wet. She knew she was losing her life’s blood, she could feel the last of her strength oozing away. She prayed the end would be fast. Ruby welcomed the heavy darkness.
When she came to, her whole body shivered. Her teeth were chattering and she could see puffs of her shallow breath hovering on the air in front of her face.
Through the gate she could see the sun beating down, but it came nowhere near the cave, which was deep in shadow.
She dragged herself further into the cave in search of some warmth. A few feet in and off to the right, she came across a pile of rocks, all different sizes, placed in a large rectangle shape. It reminded Ruby of a grave. She shuddered, wishing she could run from this place of death, but she couldn’t move another inch. Resting her head on her arm, she floated off once again.
The light had faded when she finally woke. The temperature had dropped even more—she might as well have been naked for all the warmth the wispy summer dress gave her.
From her position next to the grave-like mound, she could see something colourful lodged between two rocks. She picked at it until she finally managed to pry it out. It was a small white card with a spray of pink roses, barely visible, printed on one side.
Ruby’s blood froze in her veins—a bereavement card. Not really wanting to know what it said, but intrigued, she turned the card over. She could see an imprint of handwriting, but no ink remained and in the failing light, she had no chance of reading what had once been written. She carefully placed it back between the rocks.
She shuffled down the side of the grave-like mound and curled herself into a foetal position, pulling the fine dress tight around her knees. She then pulled her arms from the sleeve openings and hugged her body tightly.
Her stomach growled. Although she hadn’t had a thing to eat or drink since the day before she no longer felt hungry or thirsty. She didn’t even feel that cold anymore, for which she was grateful. There was no way out. She knew she would die soon, but if she couldn’t feel the pain, at least she could sleep.
She stayed in that position for what seemed like hours, drifting in and out of sleep, or consciousness, she couldn’t really tell.
She wished she had the energy to go back to the gate and try to force it open somehow, but she wasn’t able to move a muscle. Maybe she should have gone back through the tunnel earlier when she hadn’t felt as bad, but. the idea of crawling back through that awful tunnel, or worse, dying in there, made her flesh crawl.
Her head began to throb again and her limbs felt heavy and weak. She couldn’t keep her eyes open.
Her mother’s constant warnings filled her fitful dreams. Then Baxter’s barks made her heart contract. Semi-awake, she panicked. Baxter! What if he hadn’t been found? If he was still locked in her house, alone?
Oh, Baxy, Baxy. I’m sorry, boy. She wasn’t sure if she’d actually spoken the words or dreamt them. Baxter’s excited yaps were louder now, almost deafening. She could actually feel him licking her face. It seemed so real, she didn’t want to wake up. She relished in the heat his tiny body radiated. His excited yappy kisses were forcing her awake, but still she resisted. Holding her breath, she forced her eyes tight shut.
“Baxter?” someone yelled, spoiling her dream.
Baxter was gone and she heard herself whimper not wanting the dream to end. Her heart ached at the thought of opening her eyes to the cold, dark cave.
“Baxter. Come here, boy.”
There was that voice again. She recognised it, but for the life of her, couldn’t think who it was.
She felt herself slipping away once more. With Baxter no longer with her, she welcomed the familiar heaviness.
“Baxy, where is she, boy?”
Who was that? And why was he calling Baxter?
Suddenly Baxter returned, licking at her face.
“Baxy, good boy, Baxy,” she managed to utter.
“Ruby?” The voice, now closer, echoed off every wall. “Ruby, Ruby—wake up.”
She tried to open her eyes, but they were much too heavy. Then she heard footsteps and Baxter began barking again. She felt herself being lifted into someone’s arms, and suddenly recognised the voice. It was David. Her ex-boyfriend, her mum’s next-door neighbour.
“David?” she whispered.
“Yes, you’re safe now, Rubes. Try not to speak. Save your energy.”
She couldn’t understand how her dreams could feel so real. Had she died? If she had, why would David be there? It was all too confusing.