25

WHEN SIGGI WOKE, it was dark. His phone was in his hand, but when he looked, there were no messages because there was no signal. He lay for a moment, assessing himself. He was cold. That was a problem. Pushing himself up to sitting made him groan at the pain in his side, but he managed to pull the rucksack in front of him. The extra layers he'd packed were going to be vital now. He only hoped he wasn't too cold already. If he could get up and move around, it would be okay, but then if he could do that, he wouldn't be lost in the dark in a cordoned off area of the country. Shrugging off his coat, he pulled a long-sleeved top and a fleece over the top of what he was already wearing, then put his coat back on. There was a head torch in the rucksack's pocket, which was a relief because his phone torch would have drained the battery quickly and he still hoped to find a signal and be able to call for help.

What was he going to do? Waiting here wasn't an option. Surely if Jonas had got his message, he would have been here by now. There was no option but to make his way to the main road. Pulling his good foot as close to him as he could, he took his weight onto it and heaved himself up. Standing on one leg, he bent forward, his hand on the rucksack, and took a minute to ready himself before he picked it up and swung it onto his back. His ankle throbbed, although it wasn't as painful as it had been earlier, but as soon as he tentatively took a step, pain shot through it. It took everything he had not to drop to his knees and give up. He knew he was in a life or death situation; the pain was the worst he'd ever experienced, but he had to move on.

With his phone in a trembling hand, pointing him in the right direction, crying out in pain with every step, Siggi began a very slow journey to the main road. Eventually, his mind seemed to accept the pain as something that had to be dealt with and he felt as if he were having an out-of-body experience; almost looking down at himself from above as he limped along.

He didn't know how long he had been walking, and couldn't remember what time it had been when he set off, but a large rock ahead was begging him to rest against it. For the first time since he'd left the car, he felt thirsty and drank an entire bottle of water. It sharpened his senses, elevating the pain, but giving him the presence of mind to try shouting for help, which hadn't occurred to him before. There could be people from the civil defence nearby, in the vain hope that he wasn't too far now from the road.

‘ Hjálp!' He shouted into the darkness, hearing nothing but silence, save for the far off creaks of the earth which was continuing to move under the strain of the underground lava. Siggi supposed the time to worry was when those noises became closer.

Pushing himself off the rock, he carried on, wishing he'd never stopped because everything hurt so much worse than it had before. He called out every few steps. There was still no signal on his phone, and he was a depressingly long way from anything resembling a road on his map.

Then he heard a noise. At first, he thought it was the sound of the fissures, and his heart almost stopped because it sounded close. Too close. But then he realised it was a vehicle, the sound getting closer. Around twenty metres to his left, a truck was winding its way along what Siggi assumed must be the track he'd taken originally. The headlights were too far across and pointing in the wrong direction to pick him out. In desperation, he pulled the head torch off and waved it in his hand, while he shouted as loud as he could to get the attention of whoever was in the truck. But it took a turn away from him, and it wasn't long before he couldn't hear the engine anymore.

Trying to concentrate on his goal and not feel defeated, Siggi set his head torch back in place and carried on with his slow progress. It took everything he had not to give up. He thought about Arna, how if he died, he would never have the chance to know her; something he still hoped was possible. He needed to tell Iris how sorry he was to have pushed her away. How he loved her and hoped she might think about being his girlfriend if she was staying in Reykjavik. A vision came to him of her sleeping in his jeep on the way back from the volcano, her curls falling over her eyes, the hint of a smile on her lips. He wanted to see that again. He wanted to love her without being stifled by the thought of what the future might hold. Because maybe he didn't have a future. And he'd wasted the only chance for happiness that had come his way since Hekla. Why hadn't he seen what he had with Iris for the special, rare, once-in-a-lifetime gift that it was, instead of rejecting it as if it were something that happened to him every day?

‘Siggi!'

It took him a moment to register that someone was calling his name. He stopped and turned to see two figures coming out of the darkness towards him. It was Jonas and Olafur. Everything would be alright now.

‘Hey, Siggi!' They came towards him, catching him as he fell to the ground with relief and exhaustion.

‘Well, you were kind of where you said you were,' Jonas said. ‘It's good to see you. Tell me where you're hurt.'

‘My ankle. And my ribs.'

‘Let me take a look?'

‘It looks bad,' he said, wiping tears from his cheeks while Jonas gently took his boot off, then using scissors he pulled out of a first aid bag, cut his trousers and took his sock off to take a better look.

‘It is not so bad. Let's strap it up and then get out of here,' he said, grinning and patting Siggi on the shoulder.

Olafur crouched on the ground, letting Siggi lean into him. ‘Iris is with Gudrun,' he said. ‘They are waiting for news.'

‘Iris knows?'

‘You messaged her. I guess she is in your contacts next to Jonas?'

He hated that he'd sent his SOS message to Iris. The last thing she needed was to be worrying about him when he'd treated her so badly. Because he knew she would be worried. She wasn't the kind of person who could turn her feelings off in the face of rejection. The shame of how he'd spoken to her washed over him like a cold mist.

‘I need to talk to her.'

‘We'll call them when we get to the jeep,' said Olafur.

‘I love her.'

Olafur laughed, a low rumble. ‘I think she might feel the same way.'

Jonas finished up his first aid, which had been painful enough to make Siggi think he might pass out, but bizarrely, had helped with the pain. Jonas and Olafur had a brief conversation about what to do next. Siggi didn't get involved, knowing that none of this was up to him now. He was happy to be in the hands of his friends.

‘Siggi, we are going to walk to the jeep. It's not far and we cannot risk leaving the track we came in on.'

‘That is exactly what I did.'

Jonas and Olafur said nothing. Siggi knew they wanted answers as to what the hell he was doing here in the first place, but appreciated they knew that didn't have to be now.

With Jonas and Olafur on either side of him, they helped him to stand and took his weight as he hopped back to the jeep between them. It wasn't that far away. He collapsed gratefully into the back seat and sat across it, watching as Jonas directed Olafur's three-point-turn from outside the jeep to make sure they turned back exactly the way they'd come.

Once they were underway and back on the main road, Siggi closed his eyes, hearing Jonas make the call to Gudrun. He hadn't the energy to ask to speak to Iris. Now that he wasn't going to die tonight, he could wait.