Bright Cold Day

by Victoria Ryder

  They were terrified that we would try to fight back, like they had, and didn't want to provide us with a way out.

  A way to ask for help.

  The rest more or less lined up with what I already knew.

  They pushed us back. Forced our borders inwards, further and further, until we turned from being a glorious country to a minute city. Too ashamed to keep the same name. Too attached to let it go.

  We became Palla.

  Shortened. Stunted. Not allowed to grow for fear we'd become something strong enough to fight back.

  Our rations were provided by Tikorania. The country we'd tried to destroy in the first place. They hadn't wanted to watch us suffer. They'd even provided us with medicine after the flu epidemic. They didn't want to see us suffer, but weren't willing to face our rage. They were still scared of us.

  Despite their military being so cruel, the country itself was apparently one of peace.

  My stomach twisted reading the words.

  They'd never wanted conflict between our countries, but had grown so afraid after what we'd done to them that they'd given their military complete freedom to do as they needed. Anything to keep us away.

  If the information provided by OTF was to be believed, then Tikorania didn't even know what the Xiets did to us. Not really. Not to the full extent.

  They knew we were afraid of crossing our borders, but they didn't know it was just as dangerous within them.

  The Xiets sent in attackers and bombers. They aimed for civilian homes around the edges of our battered borders. They aimed at established medic stations, schools. They aimed at anything we'd built that gave us hope.

  Aimed to keep us too afraid to try.

  However, their attempts to scare us were having the opposite effect.

  And now we were angry.

  We weren't going to give up until we were either free or dead.

  It was a dangerous tightrope to walk.

  There was nothing more dangerous than an enemy with nothing left to lose.

  Even as I read them I could hardly believe the words laid out in front of me. The black ink blurred in my watery vision.

  We had started this.

  We had done this to them long before they ever even thought about doing it to us.

  But unlike them we didn't have anyone rushing to our defence, even sixty years after we became the victims. When we were pushed down, shot, blown up. When we were treated like a disease. Something to be isolated, and if possible, eradicated.

  This was the best we got. A group of violent soldiers who weren't even legally allowed to be here. Who killed just as many people as they saved, if not more.

  I didn't know how to wrap my head around it all.

  John Alderman walked over to where I was still seated in their office and placed his hand on my shoulder. I could tell it was supposed to be comforting but I had to fight the urge to shrink away from him.

  "This is a lot to take in. We completely understand if you'd like a while to get used to it before returning to your normal schedule. Your lessons will be on hold until you ask us to reinstate them."

  Completely understand? How was that even possible? They didn't know what I was going through. I could barely comprehend it, so how could they?

  And I had far more important issues than my schooling.

  "No. I'm fine," I ignored the quiver that held fast to my voice. I couldn't let them see me as weak and helpless.

  I was going to prove my worth so that, one day, they might let us go and I could forget this nightmare. All I wanted was the ability to keep my family safe and take them away from all this hate. This death. Why was that so hard?

  I put the stack of files down on the edge of their desk. I couldn't look at it anymore. I couldn't think about the words that tangled in my mind. How could I even know if this was true? It would be so easy for them to lie. To make this up and feed it to me in an attempt to turn me to their side. To stop me from causing problems.

  Either way, I couldn't just abandon my people. I couldn't just leave them to be blown up. This might have been what had happened in the past, but it wasn't how things were anymore.

  The people I'd left behind when Gabby and I came here were no different than us. It wasn't the same group of people that had been rounded up sixty years ago. We couldn't blame them for something they didn't even do. It wasn't as simple as that.

  "I still want to help. There has to be something I can do. Anything."

  John's eyes glimmered.

  "Well, I'd assume that you've got some pent up aggression you need to let loose. An outlet could be useful for you. How about the interrogations?"

  At first I failed to see how the two could be related. Then the realisation bloomed and my stomach plummeted. They couldn't expect me to do that. Not after everything I'd just been through. Not after what I'd just learnt.

  Could they?

  Was it ignorant of me to think that they were still better than that? After everything I'd just witnessed, would it really be so shocking to learn that they were capable of such darkness?

  "Why would being angry help?" I asked, hoping the answer wouldn't be what I was thinking as I stumbled after them.

  They were walking too fast, and with such an air of purpose, that I could barely manage to keep up in my frantic state.

  It was only as I walked through the crowded areas, keeping pace with the two most important people in the entire compound, that I realised I still wore my Xiet uniform. Prying eyes seemed to bore through my skin right down to my very soul. Judging.

  I started to itch.

  I felt dirty, and gross. Sick. Tired. I wanted it off. I didn't want to touch it anymore.

  "We have some methods of persuasion that can be easier to perform when one is in a state of indignation."

  My eyes widened and it took all of my control to keep my footing steady.

  What the hell were they dragging me into?

  Noting my lack of response they must have assumed I was okay with it and continued on.

  "That's why we sent Nathaniel off earlier. He seemed a little tense and it's one of the best ways we've found to calm him down. He's the best at getting information," this was accompanied by a proud little smile that lined itself along John's face.

  I felt nauseated. I may have actually thrown up a little in the back of my mouth.

  Panicked, I tried to think of how I could possibly get away from these people. Then we went down a flight of stairs.

  And another flight.

  And another.

  And another.

  The stairs kept going, much further than the water treatment facility would have originally gone. Claustrophobia filled my lungs with each step we took. The pressure in the air built, slowly. Being trapped underground was not something I enjoyed. I was unsure whether I should attribute my shortness of breath to the depth of this hell hole, my fatigue, or fear of where I was going to end up when these stairs ran out. Maybe it was all three.

  "This was one of the only places we had to have built for us when we came here," Trisha said by way of explanation, noting my weary glances at the thick concrete walls and ceiling. I avoided looking at the floor after I noticed the first dark stain. I hoped it wasn't blood. Though the alternatives weren't much of an improvement.

  I swallowed thickly and tried to ignore the burning scent of bleach that mixed with something metallic in the air.

  This was quite possibly the most ominous place I'd ever been in my entire life.

  The hair on my arms stood on edge.

  I became hyper aware of every little sound, every sense of movement.

  Yet Trisha and John were waltzing through as though nothing down here bothered them.

  Not the stains.

  Not the smell.

  Not the uncomfortable silence that swallowed us whole.

  And that was probably the truth of it. The spilling of blood didn't seem to mean the same thing to them as it did to me.

  There was a sudd
en high pitched scream, a shrieking sound that chilled my blood. It sliced through the tension in the air from somewhere down the hall. The noise locked itself in my mind and echoed off the sides of my skull. I wasn't sure which room it came from but I hoped it wasn't the one we were headed towards. I never wanted to hear that sound again. I hadn't wanted to hear it in the first place.

  Why was I here?

  They had to know I wasn't going to be good at this either. They had to. They didn't lack intelligence, if nothing else. They couldn't be stupid enough to think this was a task I'd excel at.

  So why?

  We came to a stop in front of a door. The third from the end of the hall, on the right. Labeled with thick black numbers made from some kind of dark metal. First a one, then a seven. I shuddered to think why they had so many of these rooms.

  Confusion muddled in my mind when we walked into a small dark room with nothing but a couple of chairs facing the wall. My heart stumbled.

  They weren't going to interrogate me were they?

  My nerves lowered in intensity, just barely, when a loud click revealed that the blank wall actually housed a widow that showed us into the next room. The lights in that room had been activated by the switch, giving us a clear view. I blinked rapidly and tried to refocus my eyes on what was happening in the light.

  "This, Rosa, is a two-way mirror," Trisha spoke in a soft voice. "They cannot see us. And they will not be alerted to our presence unless someone makes a particularly loud noise. The wall that separates this room from that one is not soundproof, so I suggest keeping your voice down."

  I barely listened to what she was saying to me.

  I had subconsciously stepped forward until I was almost pressed against the glass. My gaze pierced directly through the pane and I was shocked by what I saw.

  Nathaniel was beating the crap out of what looked like a skeleton held together by a thin layer of skin. Bruised and bloodied to the point where he was hardly recognisable as human. The prisoner's back was towards us as he sat on a hard metal chair. I tried not to stare at the way his ribs poked out so far from his shirtless torso.

  He was so thin.

  It looked like one hit would send him crashing to the ground.

  But there he was, sitting as straight as he could, holding up surprisingly well to the torture. The odd grunt or groan was the only indication he felt anything.

  But I couldn't see his face. I couldn't see the pain radiate through the muscles and contort his expression. He seemed so small, so helpless. So broken. Why was he even here?

  Nathaniel, on the other hand, looked to be enjoying the whole thing far too much.

  "Alright Xiet, I've tried playing nice with you. It doesn't seem to have gotten us very far, does it? Though I guess you do look closer to dying now. That's a bonus isn't it?"

  I was staring directly into his eyes, though he'd never know it.

  How could someone who'd always been so good to me turn around and be so cruel?

  So evil.

  It hurt my head and heart, to try and keep up with it all.

  "I told you," the weak, quiet voice was interrupted by wild hacking. I was almost certain I saw a glob of blood come flying out from where his mouth must be.

  "I'm not a Xiet."

  "And I told you that I don't believe that for a second," Nathaniel fired back in a harsh whisper, his words only just making it to my ears. They sent a shudder down my spine.

  I couldn't stop myself from cringing at the sound of a fist slamming into the broken body. There was a loud crack followed by a strangled scream.

  I didn't want to look but I couldn't turn my gaze away.

  I almost wished I had.

  The next time Nathaniel stepped back he tilted the prisoner's chair back and swung it around, hard, so that he was facing his reflection. Looking right at the two-way mirror.

  And finally I got a good look at his face.

  I felt faint at the sight.

  The eyes boring into mine through the sheet of glass separating us were such a familiar shade of hazel that I felt my knees weaken.

  Liam's face couldn't have been more than half a metre away from me.

  SIXTEEN

  An unbreakable scream lurched its way up my throat as Nathaniel's fist make contact with the side of my brother's head. Liam dropped like a stone, crashing off the edge of the chair, while my fists banged against the pane of glass between us.

  Nathaniel flinched at the shock of noise and looked towards us. Confusion crossed fleetingly over his features before disappearing. A monster of stone once again.

  I felt someone grab at my shoulders and my arms immediately swung back. There was a brief moment of contact between my fist and something fleshy before the hands at my shoulders disappeared.

  Barely even able to see, I stumbled out through the door on numb legs. Turning sharply at the exit I slammed my full body weight into the next door, which I could only assume led to that torture chamber.

  I couldn't tell you if I was screaming, or crying, or just staring vacantly, when the door was opened from the other side. I forced my way past an irritated and confused looking Nathaniel and tripped over his unmoving leg, landing in a heap on the floor next to my big brother.

  "Liam," my voice broke into pieces over the word as I tried to take in the sight of him.

  He was just so broken.

  I searched his features for any sign of the strong man who'd dedicated his life to protecting me and Gabby. But it was hard to see anything past the blanket of blood that covered the bottom half of his face. Just above it his nose sat crooked. His skin was a patchwork of black and blue, and stretched awkwardly over his protruding cheekbones. His arms and torso, all of him really, had almost completely wasted away to nothing. One of his arms was bent at an awkward angle and the snapping noise from earlier replayed in my mind.

  Tears dripped from my eyelashes, painting my face in sadness. I muttered a small sound of disbelief before leaning over him. Tried to find a pulse.

  He was so delicate. The smallest amount of pressure made me feel like I was going to snap his spine, break his swollen jaw. If it wasn't already broken. When I couldn't find even the faintest sign of a heartbeat I wrapped my arms gently around his chest and held him close.

  "Rosa," I flinched at the sound of his voice.

  He'd done this.

  He was a monster.

  What he did… I couldn't even think the words.

  "Rosa what are you doing? He was just a Xiet. They die all the time." I sucked in a sharp breath, fighting to get it past the lump in my throat.

  "He's not," I spat the words past my sobbing.

  "Don't tell me you believed him. They all say that. It's their first line of defence. They're trained to not give up. Come on, don't tell me you were foolish enough to believe him."

  "He's my brother," I was cut off by my own sobbing. My next words sounded strangled, as though they were being held in a vice grip. Similar to the way I clung onto my brother's lifeless body.

  "You murdered him," my voice hitched on the word, the lump in my throat trying to force its way up.

  For a moment there was no noise other than my harsh breathing, interspersed with sobs.

  I refused to face that monster.

  Why didn't he listen when Liam told him he was innocent?

  Why did he push so hard?

  Why wouldn't he stop?

  Why wouldn't he just stop?

  "He never mentioned you. I asked him about his family and he said he was the only one." I scoffed at his poor defence.

  "Of course he did. Why would he tell someone who was beating him, no," I took a shallow breath. "Why would he tell someone who was torturing him, about his family? Why would he give you something else to hold against him? Why would he put us in that kind of danger? Not everyone is that weak!" My voice was rising in hysteria.

  I needed to calm down.

  Like that was ever going to happen.

  They had just killed my br
other with me watching less than two metres away.

  It was impossible for me to wrap my head around it. It was too big. It towered over me, and all I could do was wait for it to break. To fall and crush me under its weight.

  Suddenly I was hit with reality.

  Gabby.

  I'd have to tell Gabby.

  I'd have to protect Gabby.

  My eyes finally flickered over to Nathaniel, glowering at me slightly, still standing next to the open door.

  Would they even let me tell her?

  She had to hear it from me. Otherwise everything would get all twisted. They'd find a way to make it seem like they were innocent in all this. But they weren't.

  These people didn't seem much like the saviours we'd been waiting for our whole lives. Not anymore.

  They were bad.

  No. That word wasn't strong enough.

  They killed people just for the hell of it. Even when they didn't need to they were gunning my people down in the streets. Now they'd killed my brother, ignoring the fact that he said he wasn't a Xiet. Even when they knew people were falsely accused in Palla all the time. My brother and Isabel's were just two examples.

  They hadn't even known who he was.

  I wondered how many times they'd done this before.

  I wondered if Isabel knew. Her brother had been killed because of a false accusation. Would she really condone this? Or did she already know this was how things worked here? She was always so bitter about Palla and all of the people left in it. Maybe she thought we deserved it.

  I had to tell Gabby.

  I had to tell Gabby and we had to get the hell out of here.

  But I couldn't leave Liam. I hugged his body closer to me, ignoring the blood that seeped into the fabric of my uniform.

  I couldn't leave him here.

  I never should have left him in the first place.

  I felt like I was underwater again. Like my head had been dunked into a lukewarm bucket, while my soul was abandoned, floating on the surface. The last thing I needed right now was to faint.