Out of the Ashes

by Lori Dillon

  “If you don’t mind, Giovanni, we have a lot of work to do.”

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  He finally released David’s hand, staring long and hard at him before turning his attention back to Sera.

  Sera should have known by the look in Giovanni’s eyes that he was going to do something. She should have known from past experience that he would not leave without getting the upper hand on her—or David.

  He reached out and, with the tender touch of a lover, ran the back of his fingers down her cheek.

  “Fino a più successivamente allora, il mio amore.” Until later then, my love.

  He did it so fast, she didn’t have time to react. She didn’t even draw a breath until after he started walking away.

  “Il mio amore?” David asked, his brows raised high and an incredulous look on his face.

  “Not hardly.” Not anymore. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the sensation of Giovanni’s touch to go away.

  When she finally opened her eyes, she found David watching her. He was furious, but at whom?

  “Why do you put up with that if he’s not your boyfriend?”

  Why, indeed? The initial shock gave way to anger. Anger at Giovanni for attempting to stake a claim on her in front of David. Anger at herself, because she hadn’t seen it coming and stopped him. And anger at life, because she could do nothing about it.

  “He has seniority over me, and, like it or not, the archeological world is a male-dominated profession, and a woman who wants to do more than dabble is barely tolerated in it. He could have me fired if I don’t follow the rules, and I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t work at the ruins.”

  David turned his attention back to Giovanni’s retreating figure as he strutted down the road.

  “But is it worth putting up with that?”

  Sera tried to swallow the sour taste in her mouth.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice.”

  *

  Hershel crept quietly into the apartment. Early that morning, Marsha had done little more than growl at him when he’d turned on the light to get dressed. He’d beat a hasty exit, leaving her still in her bed. Now, with the house silent and no lights on, he wondered if she’d even gotten out of bed all day.

  “Hershel, is that you?” The voice from the living room startled him as he walked past the darkened doorway.

  “Yes, dear. It’s me.” All the shades had been drawn, and he made his way to his favorite chair from memory. “Are you still among the living?”

  “Unfortunately,” she groaned. After a long pause, she spoke again. “Did you know David has a girlfriend?”

  Hershel turned his head, pinpointing Marsha’s voice in the vicinity of the couch.

  “You mean Serafina?”

  “No, not Serafina. There’s someone else.”

  “Someone else? Since when?” As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could tell she was lying down, but he couldn’t figure out which end was her feet and which was her head.

  “I don’t know. He just told Serafina about her yesterday.”

  Yes, he had definitely been talking to her feet. He turned his head slightly so he could speak to where her head should be.

  “That can’t be. Not after how I saw them together on Friday.”

  “Well, it is. And we need to find out who she is so we can put a stop to this nonsense. The last thing we need is another woman getting in the middle of things.”

  Hershel scratched at his forehead. Something just didn’t seem right.

  “I don’t understand it. There was nothing in his contract mentioning another woman. Where did she come from?”

  “Who knows?” Marsha grumbled. “With our luck, it was probably in the fine print, and neither of us had our glasses on to read it properly.”

  “It doesn’t make sense.” He slumped in his chair, trying to make rhyme or reason of this latest turn of events. “When I talked to David today, he didn’t say a thing about having a girlfriend.”

  “Well, of course he didn’t. Why would he mention it to you in passing, when it took him this long to tell Serafina, and he sees her every day?”

  “We weren’t just chit-chatting.” How dare she belittle his efforts. After all, he was the one slaving away at the ruins, doing all the dirty work and making sure David and Serafina bonded, while she stayed at home in ease and comfort. “As a matter of fact, I had to spend a good deal of time trying to talk him out of leaving.”

  “He was going to leave?” Marsha’s dark form struggled to a sitting position. “As in ‘quit the job at the site and go away?’ He was going to leave our Serafina?”

  “That’s right. He never came right out and said why he wanted to leave, but you and I both know it’s because he found out she’s American. I imagine it’s got him running scared.” Hershel straightened a bit in his easy chair, feeling more important by the moment. “In the end, I convinced him to stay.”

  “That’s good.” A heavy sigh came from the shadow on the couch. “Hopefully, he won’t change his mind before we have a chance to get this other woman out of the picture.”

  He hoped so, too. Sitting in the dark silence, Hershel tried to put his finger on what had gone wrong. Another woman? After the lip-lock he’d seen the two of them sharing under the tent, that puzzle piece just didn’t fit.

  *

  Rain fell in large droplets, splattering mud where it plopped on the water-soaked ground. The rain had been coming down off and on for days, turning the hard, sun-baked earth to brown sludge. Tiny rivers ran down the middle of the stone streets, finding the path of least resistance in the ancient wheel ruts carved by centuries of wagon traffic. It was a miserable time to be working at the ruins, but then, miserable weather suited Sera’s mood just fine.

  David had barely spoken to her since the infamous kiss. An unspoken understanding seemed to hang between them that they would stay on professional terms and nothing more from now on. That would have suited her fine if their relationship had never progressed beyond that in the first place.

  But it had.

  She had come to see David as not just a laborer, but as a friend. She missed the way he constantly teased her, always trying to make her open up or to laugh in the moment.

  She missed the way he always seemed eager to learn about the history of Pompeii and the methods of excavating the site, how he seemed genuinely interested in her work.

  She missed the way he called her Sera, his nickname for her ever since they met. She’d hated it then because it sounded too American, and anything American reminded her too much of her father. But like it or not, from then on, she had been Sera to him.

  She shook her head at her thoughts as she dug out another chunk of wet earth with her trowel. Funny how it hadn’t taken long for her to start referring to herself as Sera, too. And even funnier still, American-sounding though it was, she really didn’t mind anymore.

  American. She still wasn’t convinced that her being half American didn’t have something to do with his change in attitude toward her. She’d had enough experience with others treating her differently once they found out about her tainted blood.

  She sighed, feeling the weight of regret deep in her chest. If only she hadn’t told him about her father. If only she hadn’t broken down and sobbed out her whole sad story to him. If only she hadn’t thrown herself in his arms and kissed him. If only there weren’t someone else in his life. If only…

  Her legs throbbed from kneeling in the wet pit, and her back ached from staying hunched over in the damp air all day. The tent over her head offered some protection, but a fine mist kept seeping its way in under her rain slicker to moisten her clothes underneath.

  She looked up as David walked by with his wheelbarrow filled with rocks and wet earth. Day after day, he worked alongside her in the rain and the mud, never complaining. Of course, he’d actually have to speak more than two words to her in order to complain.

  Deciding to stop for the day,
she packed up her supplies, covered the screening table with a tarp, and followed him down the road. She stayed a short distance behind, giving him the space he obviously wanted, and watched as his broad shoulders bore his heavy burden down the rutted street.

  His hips seemed to move in a rhythm all their own, his loose-fitting pants doing little to conceal his muscular thighs. Heat crept up under her slicker, making her skin feel flush against the clammy moisture of the weather.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of how his skin felt beneath her fingertips, and another image, hazy at first, replaced it in her mind. It was David, standing with his back bared, vivid red slashes streaking across it as droplets of blood trailed down to his waist.

  Her eyes flew open, focusing on where he walked steadily in front of her. His dark green raincoat covered his back where droplets of rain, not blood, ran down the fabric to fall to the ground.

  Where had that image come from? The impression chilled her almost enough to make her feel ill.

  Sera walked through the gate and went to strap her pack to the back of her bicycle. She couldn’t stop herself from watching David as he pushed the wheelbarrow up the ramp to dump it in the back of a waiting truck. White smoke chugged from the truck’s tailpipe, its engine running as its driver anticipated the end of the day.

  A sharp thud landed in the middle of her back. Turning, she found her favorite three troublemakers grinning at her.

  “Very funny. I suppose you didn’t think I was dirty enough, so you had to add some more?”

  “Yeah,” Bruno, the oldest one, chuckled. “It looked like you missed a spot, so we thought we’d help you out.”

  “Missed a spot, you say?” Sera leaned down to scoop up a handful of mud as she approached the trio. “Seems like you all missed some spots yourselves—like your mouths. How about I make you eat some of this mud?”

  The boys laughed in delight, scattering in three different directions. She charged after Carlo, but he suddenly cut to the left, and her feet nearly slid out from under her as she tried to follow after him.

  “Ha, Serafina. You’re always too slow.” She looked up to see Bruno hanging on the side of the dump truck, laughing down at her. “You’ll never catch him, trudging about like a fat cow stuck in the mud.”

  She grinned. “Maybe I can’t catch Carlo, but I can still hit you.”

  She threw the mud clod at him, but he shimmied along the side of the truck to the narrow space between the cab and the load carrier, dodging away just in time. The mud splattered on the side, oozing down the slick metal surface.

  The grating sound of metal against metal groaned through the air. Bruno frantically gripped the edge of the truck as the back began to rise. His shocked expression told her everything. He’d accidentally bumped into the control lever, knocking the dumping mechanism into gear.

  The boy jumped to the ground, landing on his feet with a large splat in the mud.

  Sera breathed a sigh of relief until a movement to the side caught her eye. Little Antonio darted around the back of the truck, just as the hatch started to open under the pressure of the sliding dirt in the tilting bed.

  “Antonio, no!” she screamed, charging toward him to shove him out of the way.

  The edge of the hatch hit her shoulder as it opened. Dirt, both wet and dry, tumbled out, slamming into her legs and side, knocking her down.

  In an instant, everything went dark. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. The earth crushed down on her, the weight stealing a little more of each breath she tried to take. Dirt and mud invaded her mouth and nose, filling her airway, coating her tongue, and choking her.

  She could feel Antonio’s small body under her own. He wasn’t moving either. Was he alive? Could he breathe?

  Her own air-starved lungs burned, threatening to explode inside her chest. Her eyes watered beneath her lids, the tears mixing with the dirt to make more mud that tried to seep back into her eyes.

  She wanted to cry out, but there was no air left to make a sound. Dirt filled her ears. She could hear nothing but the pounding of her own heart as it struggled to continue to beat without oxygen.

  Sera.

  David? Was he calling to her?

  Sera!

  His voice seemed so far away, and she desperately reached for it, tried to grab onto it with her mind to keep herself from slipping away. But it was too hard. She couldn’t find him.

  And then her world went silent.

  Chapter 15

  David clawed at the dirt like a dog.

  “Sera!”

  One minute he’d been watching her playing with the boys, laughing as she hadn’t done all week, thanks to him. The next, she was diving behind the tilting truck bed, trying to shove the smallest of the boys out of the way. In a matter of seconds both were gone, covered by an avalanche of dirt, rocks, and mud.

  “Sera!”

  He dug with both hands, not daring to use a shovel for fear he might hit her or the boy. Others were all around him on their knees, laborers and archeologists alike, digging at a frantic pace.

  With each handful of dirt he shoved away, wet earth and rocks tumbled down from the top of the pile to replace it. It seemed he was getting nowhere, but he couldn’t stop. Not when every second counted.

  “Hold on, Sera! We’ll get you out!”

  The drizzle turned the exposed dirt to mud, making it thicker, heavier. He was sure the weight was crushing her and the boy. He tried not to think about it as the sludge oozed through his fingers every time he grabbed for more.

  Drops of rain ran down his face, seeping under his collar and dripping off the ends of his hair, mixing with the mud to burn in his eyes. He didn’t stop to wipe it out of the way. There was no time.

  He dug at the earth with the frenzy of a madman, tossing rocks and stones out of the way, not caring where they landed. Pain ripped up his fingers, through his hands, and along his arms. He was sure he could feel his nails being torn from their beds. But he didn’t care. If they didn’t get Sera and the boy out soon, both would suffocate. Both would die.

  “Damn it, Sera. Don’t you die on me.”

  The image of the plaster child flashed through his mind—a child who suffocated in a rain of ashes. If he didn’t hurry, Sera and the boy would die a similar, horrible death.

  He threw his back into the effort, tunneling down deeper and deeper in the dirt and mud. God, where were they? He had to reach them in time. He had to.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he scooped away a handful of mud and uncovered Sera’s hand, dirty and lifeless.

  “Here! She’s here!” he shouted. He dug with frenzied motions, working his way toward her head.

  The others continued to dig in spots all over the pile. Why wasn’t anyone helping him dig here? Hadn’t they heard him?

  “Rapidamente! Qui. La abbiamo trovata.” Quick! Over here. We’ve found her, he heard Heberto shout.

  Only then did the others join David, digging close to him, uncovering her shoulder, her back, her legs, the back of her head. She didn’t move at all as they removed the debris from her.

  He burrowed his arms underneath her body and pulled her from the dirt. The boy lay beneath her, as still as Sera. Hardly any dirt covered his face and body. Sera had shielded him from most of it with her own body. Still holding her, David wasted precious seconds watching to see if the boy was hurt. Finally, he saw the rise and fall of his small chest. He was breathing. The boy was alive.

  There was no time to feel relief. David carried Sera’s limp body to a level area of ground, laying her carefully on her back. He wiped at the mud on her face. It was everywhere, in her ears, in the creases of her eyes, packed up her nose.

  God, she was so still, so pale, even under all the dirt and mud. He placed his head on her chest. She wasn’t breathing.

  Somewhere, in the background, he heard the young boy cry out and cheers from the people erupt around him. He wanted to feel happy that the boy was all righ
t, but he couldn’t as long as Sera wasn’t breathing. God, what should he do?

  He did the only thing he could think of. Rolling her onto her stomach, he started pressing on her back, just as he’d been taught to do for a drowning victim. He pushed so hard trying to get her to breathe that he feared he might break her ribs.

  “You have to clear her airway.”

  “What?” David paused, looking to the side to find Heberto kneeling beside him.

  “Get the dirt out of her mouth,” the old man said. “It’s choking her.”

  Rolling her over, David tilted her head back and put his fingers in her mouth, scooping out the mud that coated her tongue. He placed his head on her chest again.

  “She’s still not breathing.”

  He looked at Heberto, feeling absolutely helpless. The old man seemed strangely calm.

  “You have to breathe for her.”

  Breathe for her? What did he mean?

  “How?”

  “Pinch her nose closed, then breathe into her mouth.”

  David didn’t question how Heberto knew to do this. He just did it. He placed his lips over hers like a lover’s kiss, breathing his air into her mouth, praying it would reach her lungs in time.

  Heberto moved to kneel across from him and started pressing down on her chest.

  “Come on, Sera. Breathe,” David urged her.

  “Again,” Heberto said.

  David breathed into her mouth once more and watched her chest rise and fall, then remain still.

  Heberto pumped on her chest several more times, then paused.

  “Again.”

  Soon, Heberto didn’t have to tell him when to breathe and when to stop. The two men fell into a natural rhythm, ignoring the crowd of onlookers around them.

  Over and over again, David breathed for her, trying to stop the ruins she loved so much from taking her life. Finally, she coughed, sputtered, and gagged, gasping for air. He rolled her on her side so that she could vomit up the mud she’d swallowed.

  When her spasms subsided, he rolled her back, cradling her in his arms. Sera’s eyes fluttered opened briefly. She looked up at him, but he couldn’t be sure if she really saw him. Her eyes drifted closed again, her breathing raspy at best, but at least she was breathing.