His lashes tilted

Tap, tap, tap. Drops tapped his forehead. His jeans were soaked, yet, under his numb arms a pumice stone stretched wide and dry. His lashes tilted. Up and upwards again, until his eyelids finally opened. The sky, up above, looked like it could crash down anytime. Rust stung the tip of his tongue. What the...

“Come on buddy”, a voice echoed. 

Reno rolled onto his flank with pain. F*ck. He crawled up and smirked at the basalt emptiness around. Was that an escape game? Bring it on, Flavio. He smirked – bring it on. Voices broke loose in his head and shut down his wit. He shook them off and his mind turned blank again. Where was he? He dabbled his Canada Goose - no phone, no wallet. His Apple watch was dead. Dabbling again, something tinkled – car keys. Um.

The soil absorbed the sound of his Timberlands as they hit the ground. He progressed, focused. Main point was to figure where he was – then he’d improvise. As usual.

Through the smoke, he soon deciphered the shade of hills stretching across the horizon - climbing, he'd see clearer through it all. He protected his nose with his elbow as carbon and acid arose from the lava bubbling at his feet. And accelerated.

He grabbed a hold at the bottom of the first fire triangle he reached. His mind denied the burn on his palms as his fingers clenched the rock methodically. His legs pushed, his arms pulled and his scapula screamed - he was back in the game.

To his right, up there, he spotted a plateau. What he needed for perspective. He clenched the grips tighter and collected momentum. Pushing onto his legs, he soared towards another hold. He gripped, pushed stronger and took off again. 

Flap.

“Come on buddy.”

His eyes opened – the sky spread parallel. Had he missed it? F*ck. Crawling back up, he looked ahead - a dusty pick-up and an ugly face were staring at him.

“Is that what you’re looking for?” The dry-faced woman said, agitating a Blackberry.

“Where did you get that?"

Her black eyes screened him down as she let him take the phone. It was dead.

“Where did you get that?”, Reno repeated.

“You left it by the waterfall.”

Waterfall? 

“Is Flavio sending you?”

“I'll answer this one later. Follow me.” 

She headed back to the Jeep, her winter boots drumming onto the basalt. Didn't the soil absorb noises?

“Hold on –”, Reno blocked the driver’s door open as she climbed behind the wheel. He should be the one driving his car - he drew out his keys.

“Don’t be silly. These are the keys of your car back home.” She pressed a button to the right of the steering wheel and the engine roared. “Come on, we’re late.” The door slammed in his face.

If that wasn’t his car, how did she get his phone? Voices started again in his head. He shook them off. Once he’d get a sense of it all, he’d kick her out. But for now, he needed to collaborate.

“Who are you?”, he asked, sucking up his pride as he sat next to her.

“You?”

Reno squeezed his jaws not to punch her in the face and opened the back of his Blackberry to distract himself. The dark powder inside reminded him of the kohl Anh had bought in Oman when scuba diving. He felt something in his chest. That was long ago.

The Jeep gilded on the black rubber with speed and ease. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Family gathering.” 

Reno frowned but didn't say anything. He looked back to the volcanoes in the rear mirror. The basalt, the waterfall, his Blackberry… 

“Is that Iceland? Did I come here for a deal?” 

“Wow. I'm impressed.”

Reno’s hand pushed the engine button and the car stopped. “Listen up, dude-”

“No, you listen. You got yourself into trouble again. And it really hit the fan this time.” She pressed back the button and held eye contact. “Flavio sent you over for the deal he’s been pushing for months and you completely f*cked up." She adjusted the rear mirror. "I’m Olga by the way.”

He scratched his neck, his mind still blank. She had a couple of points. He wouldn’t have come to this silent place on his own - he liked warmth and fun. Unless traveling for business, he never carried his phone. Coming here for an Icelandic deal pushed by Flavio made sense. Now, what did he get wrong? Small hammers started to drum in his head. He was thirsty.

“You don't remember?” Her stern eyes checked on him as she grabbed peppermint by the gear box. “You met with Sam and their lawyers, yesterday. Then you stopped by a waterfall –"

“How do you know?”, Reno asked.

“Flavio – "

“Nice, now Flavio tracks me down.” Reno untied his Apple watch, scrolled down the window and threw it out of the car. So much for company gifts. “What else should I be aware of, Olga?” He insisted on her name to show who was the boss. If Flavio wanted to play, he'd be in for a treat.  

“Guess who got caught in an eruption yesterday? “, she asked with a sneer.

No way. How could that happen?

“They sent me over to bring you back.”

“Where’s everybody?”, Reno asked testing her.

“Who?” 

“The locals. If I met Sam at his office I guess it can’t be that remote.”

She shook her head. “Missing the point again, buddy.”

Whatever. Question was what happened. He hated when his mind shut out. The amnesia he had developed after Anh’s death was his worst weakness. But there was something else to it. The way he sank in powders and drinks after her death was weird. He didn’t remember what that was, but he knew something was off about him. He always had.

Voices broke loose again. He shut them down. They grew louder.

One thing was certain: Flavio was out to get him. He should have never joined that motherf*cker's investment fund in the first place. But, hey, he needed a challenge to get over Anh’s death. Back then.

Flap.

His seat belt whipped as Olga broke abruptly. A girl with silvery hair was floating in front of the car. What the...Reno pushed down the window button to yell out at her but Olga hinted she jump in. The teen slipped on the backseat behind her.

“The bunker is ready. Here’s the address.”, her voice twinkled as she handed a folded note to Olga. 

“Thanks, Har. Fasten your belt.” 

Olga read and put the note by the gear box. Reno fetched it - coordinates. He laughed. Someone please remind Flavio he just works for Haendler & Bewells, an investment firm with crappy returns. Reno crumpled the note. What the ... If only he could remember yesterday's meeting. Fintech? A&I? Blockchain? No, they would be located in the capital. Dodgy deep tech? Um, no. For some reason, no. A cottony point tapped his temple.

“What’s up?”, Reno asked almost by reflex.

“I feel you, it's tough.” Har whispered handing him a tissue.

His eyebrows rose - what was that. If she felt him, she should have brought him a bottle, not a piece of toilet paper. She looked pretty, though.

“How old are you, Har?”

 “21.”

Good stuff, good stuff.

“Hey, where were you during the eruption?”, Reno asked Olga. 

“With you, in the car.”

He frowned.

“Told you buddy, you got no clue what you’re doing.”

The Jeep stopped and Olga opened the door for him. With Har, they spiralled down a staircase without stairs. He could feel a pulse behind his eyes and tried to blink it away. The spiral grew tighter and steeper. The volcanoes around started to rotate, he held onto the girl’s arm. What was wrong with him? The spin torn up his stomach, he puked. “It’s all fine, Reno.”, Har said rubbing his back. She pulled him forward gently. Olga was walking ahead, steady and cold. From the centre of the spiral, a mist splattered his cheeks and, further down, a stream was foaming. Was that the waterfall where he got lost? It smelt of rust like that note on his tongue when he woke up. He wanted to puke again but he was empty.

They kept walking down until they stopped. Until Olga entered a code and until an armoured door cringed. He couldn’t open his eyes – the pulse was too intense. A breeze caressed his hair and skinned his face. 

“Go ahead.”, Olga said from behind. 

“Come, Reno.” 

Ammoniac and fresh paint mixed up with the gurgle of pipes. Water was dropping. Neon lights tinkled with every step they took, but he couldn't see a thing.

“To the right.”

 “Don’t worry, Reno.”

Another door swept open. The air, this time, smelt of tangerine.

“Reno, hi.” A calm voice announced in the dark. 

Was that Anh?

"We’ve been waiting for you.” 

No, that wasn’t. 

His hands groped through the dark. He felt Har's presence but wanted to figure it out himself - Flavio could show up anytime, he couldn't afford to look weak. He found and dropped onto a wool armchair. The woman was standing in front of him – he sensed her glow. 

“Reno, would you – “

“Where’s Flavio?”, Reno asked.

“Flavio?” The woman’s slight smirk contrasted with her warmth. “No Flavio in here, I'm afraid. As Olga mentioned, this is only family.”

“I don't have – “

“You do. You do have family. Ignoring them doesn’t mean they don't exist.” 

His palms went wet. His throat drier.

“Reno, you seem puzzled. By now, you should have figured who we are. But I reckon connecting the dots is not your strength.” Her laughter was light and comforting but…

“Who are you?”

“Cleo. We’ve known each other for a while but that is something you decided to ignore.” Her bare feet rubbed the buckles of a rug on the floor – she was walking around him. “This place is, as Har mentioned, a bunker. Does it surprise you?”

A map flashed his mind. Bunkers. His firm had invested in bunkers all around the world to protect the employees. Was that part of the due diligence for the deal they wanted to close? Checking up the bunker in Iceland?

“Dude, listen. My mind is busy. Even if I wanted, I couldn't connect those whatever dots you have in mind. And, hey, I know it’s weird, but I... I hear voices. And –"

“Aw, you hear voices. Interesting, what do they say?”

“Crap.” He guffawed - that was the first time he spoke it out. "They say crap." He gulped and his two hands massaged his two knees.

 “Oh-oh...”, Har warned.

“I see. And, who are those people telling you crap? Any guess?”

“No. F*cking clue. If I knew, I’d – “

Cleo’s eyebrows raised. In the dark.

“Reno, let me help you. A last time. Any deja-vu today?”

“I’d say no. But that –“

“That would not be a bright answer.” She caressed what seemed to be a wine glass. He could have killed for one. She started to pace again.

“You know, things with Flavio went as expected. That was all foreseeable. Or shall I say, foreseen.” She smirked. “Flavio did not quite like that little scene of yours at the last board meeting. Know which one?” 

Her eyes darted through the dark. 

“You don't? Thought we had had that discussion already.”

“More than needed.” Olga sighed. 

Har squeaked.

“We told you to watch that little ego of yours, didn't we?"

“We did.”

"It's ok, Reno."

“Olga scheduled plans and Har was supportive but somehow you...”, Cleo smiled, “...still pushed that all away."

His heart beat slower. He panted.

“Reno, anything you wish to add?”

Something swirled in his brain and he wanted to scream.

“The saddest thing is how easy it was for Flavio to trap down a brilliant mind like yours. You gave him all he needed - a reason, a mean, a route. All of it.”

“They trapped him. He tried to outsmart them but -”, Har tremoloed. 

“Outsmart Flavio? Come on.” Olga sneered.

“It’s not his fault, he hit rock bottom-”

"Loser."

"Reno, listen..."

The three voices blurred into a whistling again and his mind went blank in the carbon and acid haze. The voices had faces and he had never seen them, or if he had - powders and drinks had promptly erased them. Each time. Was that why he sank after Anh's death? To escape his inner family? The stream of the waterfall swirled somewhere in his back and his car was honking somewhere close. His eyes were shut and the basalt underneath him was dense and dry. His still palms could sense its warmth. The back of his skull hurt. Cleo, Har and Olga, the three people he shared his mind and body with. He tried to smirk but he was feeble. Those surreal voices had a face and he had seen them today. They were real.

Drops tapped, tapped, tapped his forehead and his lashes tilted.