Not Dead Yet

his shoulders. Pushing him down further, his hands slipping, slipping, his feet flailing in the air.
    His arms and shoulders were in agony. He tried desperately to pull himself up, but the more he pulled, the more Gaia pushed down with her full weight. His arms were starting to give way and he didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to hold on.
    Can’t fall. Can’t fall. Can’t fall . The words played in his brain like a mantra. Can’t fall. Can’t fall. Can’t fall.
    He thought suddenly of Cleo. Of their unborn baby. Of all the new life that lay in front of him. He was not going to die. Not going to.
    ‘Gaia,’ he yelled. ‘You’re going to kill us both! Get off me, get on to the floor, there’s enough slack in the wire, trust me!’
    His hands slipped further, agonizingly, across the boards.
    Further.
    She pushed even harder on his shoulders. She was clearly in total hysterical panic, beyond any ability to hear him.
    He was going. He could not hold on any more. His fingertips were sliding over the raised edge of the rim.
    Then, suddenly her weight lifted off him. It was gone completely. But he still could not hold his own body up; his fingers were slipping. Slipping. He did not have the physical strength in them, nor the grip, to hold on any more. Somehow, he had to haul himself back up through the hatch, but he couldn’t. His arms were spent. He didn’t have the energy. For an instant he thought, it would be easier to fall. Simpler. Just let go.
    Then he saw Cleo’s face again. Saw the bump. Their baby. Their life.
    But his fingers slipped further. His body hung from them like a lead deadweight. He felt his fingertips right on the edge. They were losing their grasp. His legs bicycling in the air below him in the hope, again, of finding something, miraculously, to save him.
    Slipping.
    Oh shit, no, no, no. This was crazy. This was not how it was going to end. He fought back, with every ounce of strength he had. But he slipped further.
    Then, suddenly, an iron clamp closed around both his wrists.
    The next instant he was hanging, swinging from his arms. Moments later he was being pulled, very slowly and very firmly, upwards. He smelled the sour breath of a heavy smoker, looked up, saw a nicotine-stained moustache and heard the voice of the security guard.
    ‘Don’t worry, sir,’ he wheezed, ‘I’ve got you!’
    Moments later he felt a second pair of hands gripping him, securely, under the arms. Near by, he heard a woman sobbing hysterically.

119
    Seconds later, Roy Grace’s feet touched the floor, safely away from the hatch. He barely noticed he was missing a shoe. His hands were raw and bleeding and he had splinters up inside his nails that hurt like hell, but he barely noticed that either at this moment. His sole concern was for Gaia.
    She was kneeling, supported by a male and a female police officer who were gently working free the noose around her bleeding neck. She was sobbing and shaking.
    ‘Do you want to sit down, sir?’ the guard with the moustache asked.
    The other held on to him with a steadying hand. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine – is Gaia all right?’ he called out. ‘Is she all right?’
    The woman officer said, ‘Yes, she’s okay, she’s in shock. I’ve radioed for an ambulance.’
    ‘Shall we get an ambulance for you, too, sir?’ one of the guards asked.
    Grace shook his head, still getting his breath back. Then he saw the state of his hands. ‘I think I need tweezers,’ he said distantly, staring at Gaia again, trying to make sense of these last few moments. He stared at the four-foot-wide rectangular hole where the trapdoor had dropped down.
    ‘You’ve a nasty gash on your face.’
    He put a hand up and it came away covered in blood. ‘You came in good time, guys. Thank you – for – getting me out of there.’
    ‘I used to be a bit of a weightlifter in my army days, sir. You were nothing compared to the weights I used to do.’
    ‘Thanks a lot!’
    ‘Take it as a compliment, sir.’
    Grace gave a wry smile, then crossed over to Gaia. Their eyes connected and for an instant, her sobbing ceased.
    ‘You okay?’ he asked.
    Through her tear-stained face she managed a weak smile. ‘Yes, guess I’m just a little wired.’
    Grace grinned. Moments later he heard footsteps, and Glenn Branson charged into the room, then stopped and stared, open mouthed at Grace, then Gaia, then Grace again. ‘What’s happened? You all right? Everyone all right?