Page 72 of Minding the Minotaur
“No, take us to the sheriff’s office.” Somehow I know Otis is the best person to trust. “But call Peg at the clinic and get her to meet us there.”
“Okay,” Kazmo says. “Get in.”
I arrange Sammy across the seat, her head laid carefully on my lap. She looks so beautiful, like she’s sleeping, but I sense her life force is getting weaker, and my heart jackknifes in my chest.
I hear Kazmo making an urgent call to Peg.
And then, thank the gods, he starts the truck and we’re speeding toward the sheriff’s house, and Otis.
For once in my life, I’m desperate to see that fucking green bastard.
When we screech to a halt outside, Kazmo helps me lift Sammy out and take her inside.
Otis opens the door, bleary-eyed.
His collar is awry and his short, cropped hair sticks up.
His red eyes look even redder with fatigue. He blinks at me.
“Arlo, what the fuck?” His eyes flare as he takes in Sammy, lying unconscious in my arms.
I barge in without a word, and Otis for once is completely speechless as I go into the living room and lay Sammy carefully down on the old couch. And then he dares to say, “Gods alive, Arlo, what have you done to her?”
After the events of the last few hours, I completely lose my cool.
“I haven’t done anything to her! Can’t you see I’m fucking trying to save her? Sammy is gravely ill, and I don’t have a fucking clue why, so get your head out of your fucked up green ass and be ready to let Peg in when she gets here.”
Otis pales, thins his lips and nods. “I’ll get some blankets to cover her. Anything else?”
“Water, to hydrate her.” I have no idea if it will help, but I’m clutching at straws.
I hear him moving around briskly, and soon he’s back with a blanket and a glass of water. I cover her with the blanket, then take the glass from him. I wet her dry lips, but she doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t swallow and the water dribbles out of the side of her mouth. She looks so beautiful, like she’s sleeping, but I know it’s grave by the pallid tone of her skin.
I hold her hand and wait, desperately for Peg to arrive.
“Want me to stay?” Kazmo asks.
I shake my head. “Go, mate. There’s nothing you can do here. But thank you for your help.”
“I hope she pulls through.” Kazmo hesitates. “I had a hunch when you brought her to Digger’s that she means a lot to you.”
I nod, trying to stave off the desire to let out a sound so sad and desolate it would echo through the whole of level one.
Otis sees Kazmo out and when he comes back in, he moves over to my side. Looks down at Sammy, his red eyes clouded with concern.
“I apologize,” he says stiffly. “I know you would never hurt her.”
I grunt. I can’t bring myself to speak. I’m not in a fucking forgiving mood right now.
Thankfully, Peg arrives a moment later. She kneels beside the sofa, a deep frown furrowing her brows as she checks Sammy’s pulse. “Tell me what happened,” she says in her no-nonsense goblin way as she takes a blood pressure cuff from her medical bag and fixes it on Sammy’s arm.
I mutter out the story in a thick, flat voice, leaving out our beautiful lovemaking and my marriage proposal. That is just between me and Sammy. But when I mention that we climbedthe rock wall and discovered Earth, the green grass and hills and the setting orb of a red sun, Peg’s thick brows draw down lower. “Thought as much,” she mutters. “Earth sickness.”
“Can you help her, Peg?” I ask desperately.
I know from the hollow look in her eyes that she can’t.
Finally, she says gently, “This is the one thing humans can’t control, their inability to breathe Earth’s air. I’m sorry, I can’t do anything for her down here, Arlo.”
