Footsteps above him ringing on the metal stairs. Concern in Georgia’s voice. If he backed out they’d cope without him because the whole narration was an experiment. But he’d be letting Dalia down and wimping out in front of Georgia. “How many more?”
“Five, six, seven.” Georgia counting. “Eight more.”
She was right in front of him when he got to the top. She put her hand over his on the railing. “It’s dark up here.”
“Damn, left my night vision goggles in the humvee.” His stomach was in full rebellion but his voice was veteran soldier steady.
She laughed softly. “It’s also narrow. I’m going to have to walk directly in front of you. Can you put your hand on my shoulder?” She didn’t wait for an answer, reached for his hand, then pivoted to face the other way.
He could easily trail his hands on the walls but he’d much rather have the contact with Georgia. He let her place his hand on her shoulder and moved after her, keeping an outstretched arm between them. “What can you see?”
“Jace’s back, but there’s more light and a little more space up ahead.”
Jace said, “We’ve set you up in two locations. A and B. From A you can see five of the rooms, from B the rest.”
“Ah. What is it you think I’m going to see?”
“Sorry, mate. Georgia and I will be able to see the action underneath us. That’s so we can cue, because a lot of it is impromptu.”
“And you want me to talk directly to members of the audience as well.”
“Yeah, like you’re the voice of God, man. Looking down on everything. Ed will feed those cues directly to you.”
He could be the god of darkness, the god of sudden crippling nausea, but that was the extent of his range tonight.
Georgia touched her hand to his on her shoulder. “You okay?”
She couldn’t possibly know how not okay he was. He stepped into her space to be nearer her, so he didn’t turn around and beat a way back to the light. This obviously wasn’t the first time he’d been in total darkness, but it had never had this effect on him before because he’d never figured it would be a full-time thing. Denial was a torch, always lit.
His free hand went to her hip and he leaned in to the comfort of her. “Are you?”
“I’m nervous about how this is going to go.”
“Me too.” Easy to admit that. It stood in for the near terror he was feeling.
“You’ll be fine.” Jace from up ahead. “This is A.”
“What can you see, Georgia?”
“Two bedrooms, the lounge and dining and the garage.”
“Murder takes place in the garage,” said Jace. “I’ll take you through to B.” From B Georgia could see the remaining rooms. They were going to need to move frequently between these two locations. Back in A, Jace set them both up with gear and they did a sound check and practiced cueing with Ed, who was front of house on the set. Jace left then, saying he’d return fifteen minutes before show time.
“There’s one stool. You should sit.”
He should offer it to Georgia, but he was so disoriented it’d be better if he sat so he didn’t argue.
“Take a step back. And another.”
He felt the stool brush his thighs. Georgia had a hand on his arm. He sat, reached for her and spun her so she was standing between his legs, her back to him. He expected her to pull away, but maybe the darkness had gotten to her as well. She rested a hand on his thigh. She didn’t say a word and he was grateful. He needed to collect his wits. He closed his eyes and focused on her breathing, one hand at her waist, the other dropped at his side. It took a moment to realise she was breathing short, shallow breaths.
He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, curved over her. She tensed and he let go with a sigh.
“Sorry, Damon. I. I.”
“No, that was—”
“Nice, that was really nice. You can, um.”