Prologue
The landscape was desolate. Only the distant sound of traffic and the remote hustle and bustle of inner city life provided any evidence of civilisation. Her hands trembling, she clutched the slip of paper tightly.
It was underground, the doctor had said. The address and directions she had provided pointed to another expanse of dead grass straight ahead, surrounded by an old rusted perimeter fence. Given that there wasn't a soul or anything of value in sight, no one would even think twice about there being anything
beneath where she was standing. She looked around frantically for a gap in the fence; clearly some building had once stood here, and she reasoned that since the fence was still standing there had to have been a way in for it to be demolished. She wondered why the fence had not been torn down also.
The fence itself was made out of several evenly-spaced vertical iron bars connected at the top and bottom by a horizontal one. Between each bar, string-like pieces of metal stretched across diagonally in opposite directions, creating a mesh. Eventually she found a pair of gates – sealed, of course – which integrated perfectly into the fence. Both were about eight feet high, the fence sporting several spikes running along the top to prevent climbing, theoretically.
That had never stopped her before.
Deciding to attempt to climb over the gates, she stuffed the slip of paper back into her pocket and placed her hands against the fence, one higher than the other. Luckily, her fingers were just small enough to slip through the mesh. Once she had established a firm grip, she lifted her right leg and tried to establish a similar grip with her foot, intending to scramble up the fence using her upper body strength.
The attempt didn't work.
Her foot simply slid down the metal framework. She closed her eyes, struggling to focus, and thought for a moment before an idea struck her.
She stepped away from the fence, wiped tears from her eyes, and proceeded to remove her leather boots. Having done so, she took off her socks and placed them deep inside the boots. Then she took a few giant steps backwards and, gripping the pair of boots in her right hand, swung her arm around forwards in a windmill motion, gathering momentum as she sped up the action. When her arm had picked up enough speed, she let go of the boots, throwing them upwards with the intention of getting them over the fence.
She succeeded. The boots landed on the other side.
In other circumstances, she would have smiled to herself victoriously. This time however, she was in no mood to do so. Now barefoot, she once again gripped hold of the fence, sliding her fingers through the mesh and resuming her previous stance. This time she was able to slide the big toe of her right foot between two holes in the mesh, gripping it with her bare foot in the same way she did with her hands.
Using all the physical strength at her disposal, she managed to get just enough grip on the lower part of the fence to be able to support her ascent. She knew that the grip she now maintained with her feet was tenuous and that either foot could slip at any time, but she denied the possibility and allowed her single-minded intent to overpower all other senses and conscious thoughts. Dismissing the pain in her feet, she proceeded upwards, hand-over-hand.
Eventually, after much hardship, she reached the top. Now came the thorny problem of how to get over the spikes. Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed one of them, gripping it tightly, for it provided a much more secure grip than the mesh. Pausing momentarily to catch her breath, she lifted herself up further until she reached the top of the fence. It quickly became apparent that in fact, despite appearances from the bottom, the spikes were hardly sufficient to hold her back as the top of the vertical bar extended several centimetres taller than them. Thus, she was able to grip the bar and use it to support her weight as she got to the top; all she then had to do was get high enough to lift each leg over the spikes and climb down without slipping onto them. The searing pain that would ensue from accidentally putting her hand or foot through one didn't bear thinking about.
Her heart pounding in her chest, she was able to lift her right leg over the fence slowly. She slipped her toe between the metal strands of the mesh on the other side and proceeded to lift her left leg over as well, all the while keeping her hands gripped tightly around the top of the vertical bar. She was forced to maintain an awkward and uncomfortable position for a moment until she was able to let go, one hand at a time, and instead take hold of the mesh once again. Gradually she eased herself lower until she was three-quarters of the way down. Suddenly she stopped as a sudden and uncharacteristic wave of vertigo washed over her. She screwed her eyes shut tightly for a few seconds, getting her breath back and denying the nausea. She drew a deep breath, filling her lungs to capacity before opening her eyes and daring to look down. She realised that she was close enough to the ground to jump without doing herself too much damage, but then as the pain in her toes and in the base of her feet made itself known she considered that she wasn't wearing anything on her feet to cushion the impact. The last thing she needed was to sprain her ankle or break a leg.
She decided to ease herself down just a little further before taking the risk, the clanking of the rattling iron fence and her own heavy breathing echoing in her ears. She didn't pause to steel herself, for this was no time for premeditation – she would not give herself time to surrender to fear and allow it to paralyse her. Instead she chose to throw herself in at the deep end, letting go of the mesh and jumping to the ground.
She landed hard, but thankfully not hard enough to do much damage. Nevertheless she found herself collapsing suddenly, falling forward, the weight on her feet of her ascent and subsequent descent now taking its toll. Instinctively she threw out her hands to stop herself, and after a moment managed to pick herself up.
As quickly as she got to her feet, another wave of dizziness washed over her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Without thinking, she called out to thin air. “I know you're there!” she cried. “Show yourselves!” She spun around, taking in the sight of the deserted wasteland around her, knowing not to take her barren surroundings for granted.
“You've taken someone I love, now, I KNOW YOU'RE DOWN THERE!!”
The last address had been bellowed at the ground, and as soon as the words had left her mouth she regretted them. Minutes passed like hours as she pulled her discarded socks and boots back on. Suddenly she was startled by the swift arrival, apparently from out of nowhere, of several dark-clothed figures carrying machine guns. Her heart almost leapt out of her mouth, and what occurred next happened so fast as to be almost a blur.
“ON YOUR KNEES!!!” one of her assailants bellowed, “HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!”
Fear, panic and anxiety overwhelmed her. Shaking from head to toe and unable to form words, she did as she was told. Clasping her hands to her head, the way she'd seen characters do in films, she dropped to her knees.
She couldn't tell how many there were, but they all appeared to be dressed from head to toe in black combat gear, rounded off with scarlet berets displaying the winged insignia she now recognised. The important thing was that each and every one of them was holding a powerful weapon to her head.
“State your intent!” one of the officers bellowed.
“I...” she began, but the words stuck in her throat. She swallowed and tried again. “I'm looking for my...” Her hands were trembling, her heartbeat echoing through her body, and in light of everything that had happened, despite what she and the girl were supposed to be to each other she just couldn't bring herself to say it. Against all reasonable judgement, some uncontrollable urge made her rise to her feet and address the soldier who had spoken. “Please...” she begged, “she's just a kid, she'll be frightened –”
“Don't move!” the soldier commanded.
Her knees felt weak, and her heartbeat consumed her entire being. “I know you're trying to help her,” she pleaded breathlessly. “I was going to bring her here anyway! You didn't have to take her like that! She needs me!” She lunged toward the soldier, who showed no sign of lowering his weapon.
“Don't!” he warned, and his comrades lifted their own weapons a little higher, defensively. “How did you know to come here?!”
Her breath quickened, bringing her to the verge of hyperventilation. All at once, the events of the last few hours hit her with full force and she broke down once again, her vision clouding as she found herself advancing on the soldier with her arms and palms outstretched in a placatory gesture, her body language inviting him to take pity on her. “Please...” she begged,
help...
The word didn't come out. Suddenly, the soldier advanced on her. Swivelling his rifle around in a swift motion, so that the butt was facing her, he lunged at her, feinting and jabbing his rifle into her face with all his strength. Reflexively, she inclined her head quickly, just in time to avoid the full force of the attack face-on, but catching a harsh blow to her right temple. Before she knew what had happened she had lost her balance, stunned, and her surroundings began to spin as the ground rushed toward her.
Her head struck the ground hard. The pain shot through her like a lightening bolt, and for a moment she was vaguely aware of a lot of shouting as a wave of queasiness washed over her, and blessed insentience overcame her.
* * * *
