Anna

by Sammy H. K. Smith

  “Daniel, not seen you around for a while.” They shook hands. I watched my captor swap his gun hand over and then back again.

  “Been away on business, I’m looking to leave now.”

  “Before the Enforcers get here? You could earn a bit helping them out. There’s been a call on the network.” The guard glanced at me with interest. I looked at the ground and counted the lumps of dirt by my feet.

  “I don’t enforce any more. Want to settle down. What will it cost me to leave with her?” I still didn’t look up. Will reached out and took my arm, pulling me closer and against his hard body.

  “No one leaves or enters until the Enforcers arrive. I’m sorry, Daniel. I doubt you’d give what I want.”

  He crushed my hand then and I fidgeted to show him my pain. He realised and loosened his grasp; the anger was back, the jealousy too.

  “No, but I’ll tell you where I’ve left thirteen bottles of whisky, six magnums of champagne and over four thousand cigarettes.”

  That got the attention of the guard. His eyes brightened and he hesitated before nodding slowly.

  “Follow me.” So we did. He took us into the nearby house and I sat patiently on a plastic chair by a large old dining table. They spoke quickly and quietly. Will pointed to three different spots on his map and the guard called to one of his colleagues and relayed the locations to him. After the second guard left Will looked at me and smiled, nodding confidently.

  I forced a smile and leant against the wall, closing my eyes. I’d soon be out of this place, away from the noise, the barbarism and cruelty. I’d be back in the Unlands, back in the quiet and dead world where I belonged. The feeling of relief didn’t last, now we had stopped my anxiety and sickness caught up and crashed into me.

  There was nothing to do but wait. Placing my hands on my lap I cradled my stomach surreptitiously, yet again willing for it all to be a mistake. Closing my eyes I tried to picture Stephen but all I could see was a murky, unfocused blur. Out of everyone I had known and loved, only Oscar was clear in my mind. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out his picture. I’d lost so many memories being alone, each day that passed I lost a little of myself to the Unlands. If this was real, if my nightmare was to continue, then I could regain some of what the dead land now gripped tight – couldn’t I? Regain some sense of me through my… punishment?

  My thoughts were interrupted by the return of the guard and Will held out his hand, helping me to my feet. The handshaking and grins told me it was a success, and we were escorted out of the gates. The moment I stepped out of the town and back into the Unlands my anxiety slowly ebbed away.

  “Can I trust you not to run away?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good girl.” He released my hand. I didn’t know if this was a test, I hoped that if it was then I passed, if not, well: never interrupt your enemy when he’s making a mistake. That was another one of those sayings.

  I looked back. The glow of orange and the black smoke rising from different areas were wispy arms reaching to the sky, touching and polluting it with the evil the town struggled to contain: stroking it.

  He allowed me my freedom as we walked, asking me repeatedly if I meant what I had said in my cell. I forced a nod each time. My ribs ached, reminding me of the love he had shown me just a few weeks ago. I touched his arm as we reached a small copse and he stopped.

  “Just a few minutes.” Stretching my arms up I winced as a sharp spike of pain lashed my side. Sitting on the ground I hunched over. He stood by me and he swore softly. Looking up through my arms there were three figures approaching, their silhouettes vaguely familiar. As they got closer I recognised the sunglasses man and his companions. I also remembered the way he had looked at me and I scrambled to my feet and stood behind Will.

  “Will, thought you’d be in there, having fun at the party.” Sunglasses man smiled at my captor.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “You’ve tamed her then?” He stared at me. I glanced either side of him. There was something wrong, the lines in all their faces, the planes of their bodies, were rigid and strained.

  “What do you want?” The friendly tone of the first meeting was gone and my captor pushed me further behind him. The man’s stare flitted from Will to me and back, an amused expression spreading on his face.

  “Her.”

  “I knew you’d be back.” Will shifted and I continued to hide behind him. “Why her?”

  “Because she’s yours, and you know why.”

  I scouted a route through the scattering of trees. I could probably get past the first few rows of trees and into the scrublands before I was caught; but maybe not. I could possibly get further. I was fast, maybe I could outrun them. I used to be fast.

  “I wouldn’t, sweetheart.” The amused voice of the main one, Sunglasses, cut into my thoughts and I scowled at him, making him chuckle. “If you run, I’ll catch you, I’ll break your legs and then you’ll never run again.”

  He meant it. It had started to get light, and I could see his face properly now. There was no life in him; he was like my captor. Everything was quiet for a moment. I could hear the sounds of the town on the wind, the faint popping and cracking of gunfire.

  “What’s the issue Will? You can find another one, you caught her easy enough.”

  “Anna, run.” Will’s voice was low and firm and he stepped back, causing me to stumble.

  “What?”

  “Run, now.”

  So I did. Sunglasses shouted to his companions, but I had already sensed them running after me. Fixing my attention on the clearing I forced my feet forward. I hadn’t run in over a month, my lungs were already hurting and my tender side screamed in agony. I couldn’t stop, the thought of being captured and broken all over again pushed me harder than I thought possible. I skidded down the side of a small ridge and into the long-dead field. The tiny sprigs of rotten crops crunched under my boots. Each step was already getting heavier and heavier. I was running towards the sunrise – it was the most beautiful thing I’d seen in all the days I had been alone. A stretch of yellow and red, gold and ruby. It was freezing and my breath flowed back past me like a mist; but the image in front warmed me.

  Then hands on my jacket pulled me, and I fell forward into the ground, smacking my face off the cracked mud and scratching my cheek on the crops. Fighting, screaming and kicking I broke my way free. Why had this never worked with him? Scrambling to my knees I cried out as my wounds reopened, and got to my feet before landing heavily on my front as the second one jumped on me. I snapped my elbow back and connected with his face causing both of us to cry in pain – I’d jarred my shoulder yet again. He let go of me and grabbed his nose, blood pouring from between his fingers, cursing me through his hands. A sense of satisfaction and pride at my strength burst through me. It was short lived for the first one grabbed my legs and I fell again. The second one took my arms and twisted them behind my back. I screamed as something tore in my shoulder, instantly losing strength and going limp.

  “She’s got spirit.” The second one spat, a mouthful of blood landed on my face and I cried out and thrashed again. I felt another tug on my shoulder and screamed.

  “She’ll be fun.” The other one laughed quietly and he twisted something around my legs tightly and stood me up. I didn’t look at either of them and stared at my legs, he’d used cable ties around my ankles. The second one started laughing and I glared at him, spitting full force in his face. You’re not fucking this up for me now. Not when I’m so close to escaping. So much for the saying: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. He swore and pulled my arms again, digging his fingers into my bicep. I screamed, again.

  It was slow and torturous, I could barely shuffle and the grip on my arms was burning, the fiery pain in my shoulder and ribs all consuming. I’d only managed to run five hundred metres or so. How pathetic. Pointless and futile. As we reached the clearing I couldn’t see Will or Sunglasses. My new captors stopped in confusion.

&nbs
p; “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know, do I?”

  Pulling me around roughly they searched the area: nothing. We had been minutes, barely any time. Two gun shots bounced through my skull, a dull yet constant and quick thud of pain in my ears started and the hold on my arms melted away.

  Both my captors were dead. I shuffled slightly and then fell to the ground, landing on my ribs and crying out as a rock dug into my side. I was grateful and yet hated him even more. He cut away the ties to my legs and checked my knees, my face, my side and my arms. His touch was disturbingly gentle. He leaned over me and kissed my cut cheek, the smell of him rolled through my stomach and I grasped at the ground by my side: never underestimate your enemy.

  I struck out with the rock as hard as I could to the side of his head. He fell to the side of me and I rolled over, groaning and gripping my ribs. I looked down at his unconscious body and the gun at his side.

  Snatching it, I pointed it at his head. The rage was all-consuming and my fingers tightened and twitched on the trigger; but I couldn’t pull it. An indescribable barrier refused to move, refused to allow me to pull back and seek my revenge. Why? Why could I not now have my pound of flesh? My hand shook with the pain my shoulder sent shooting down my arm. I lowered the gun and swore over and over again, screaming out the words into the stillness.

  I took his bag. It was too heavy for me to carry, so I emptied out his clothes and belongings, not having time to check them, and the black bag he had given me. I kept the knives, tins of food, the maps and compass from before and the smaller, useful things. Strapping it onto my own back I gave him one last derisory glance and kicked him hard in the back.

  Then with a sudden fear, I ran.

  PART TWO

  Chapter Thirteen

  Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that we cannot control.

  It was a cold, wet and dark day, and yet it was perfect. I wiggled my toes as the wet sand tickled and leeched onto my feet, seductively pulling me further down into the freezing water. The cold numbed my ankles and I watched the water rise higher and higher before lifting my feet one by one and then repeating the process. The warmth of the rising sun behind me crept across my back. Eventually, the iciness became too painful and I walked back onto the beach, carrying my shoes and battling the wind which tried to wrap me up in its embrace and whisk me away. The smell of salt carried on the air and I breathed deeply, revelling in the scent.

  I waved over to Old Tom sitting on the edge of a nearby rock pool with his net and bucket, hunched over, smoking a cigarette, but he sat staring at the almost black water and paid me no attention, too intent on catching one of the little dark greens that scurried around in the early morning waters.

  “Kate!”

  Hayley ran over to me from our house, her red hair blowing wildly around her face like a halo of fire. She was my guardian angel.

  “What are you doing out here in the cold? Kate, are you mad?” Her voice was full of concern but also held a hint of disapproval.

  “I just wanted to walk for a bit.” I tucked my hair behind my ears and smiled at her reassuringly. “I’m fine, it’s a lovely morning.”

  “It’s freezing!” she replied in disbelief. “When I woke up and saw you were gone, I panicked. Are you sure you’re ok?”

  I broke my gaze from the curling waves. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking. I’m fine. I promise.”

  “You must be hungry.” She reached up to me and hesitated. When I had first arrived she had stroked my arm and I had burst into tears, and even after two months I couldn’t bring myself to allow her to hug me.

  “I’m fine.” I had eaten more here than I ever had, even before the devastation.

  I walked in silence by Hayley’s side as she chatted about the chores for the morning. The council convened at ten and we would be discussing the plans for the allotments and regeneration. Excitement and nervousness fluttered into me; today I was going to pitch the request for clearing the library and asking for Wanderers to collect books from nearby villages and towns. By replacing a small part of what had once been the heart of this place, I could help heal my own.

  “Are you nervous, Kate?”

  “Yes.” I rubbed my stomach self-consciously as I walked. The baby had started to move again.

  “Don’t be, everyone loves you being here.”

  Everyone. That had to be a lie, but it wasn’t why I was nervous. I hadn’t spoken to such a large group of people in so long. At the thought of all their eyes on me, watching me, heat suffused my cheeks.

  We walked along the old towpath, past the partially rebuilt terraced cottages. It was too early for the builders to be working but their wheelbarrows and sandbags scattered the ground, creating an obstacle course. Hayley slowed as I zig-zagged my way through; twice I stumbled, twice I refused her offer of help. As we reached our home I turned back and stared at the sea, the sun glittered and bounced off the water, sparkling and mesmerising.

  “Breakfast is ready.”

  I followed Hayley into the kitchen and smiled at Glen who nodded politely. Glen was a wanderer and part-time Enforcer. I tried not to hold it against him. The Enforcers would disappear for days and return with all sorts of forgotten ‘necessities’ from the world before. I could never understand what went through their minds. But Glen didn’t send my heart racing nor terrify me the way the others did. He was simply… Glen.

  “You have to eat more, Kate, for the baby.” Hayley continued to mither as we ate, and I sighed. Yes, for the baby. I pushed the scrambled eggs around the plate and eventually forced them down, each mouthful a tiresome task.

  “Hayley, leave the poor girl alone.” Glen glanced at me and rolled his eyes. I smiled. “Honestly, you do witter on, woman.”

  “I do not.” She gathered up the plates. “I’m just excited, is all. I can’t wait for the baby to arrive… it’s about time we had a baby in the house.” Her words weren’t lost on me and she winked at Glen with a smile.

  “I’ll be away for about a week,” Glen said. He didn’t react to Hayley’s not-so-subtle infant hint. “Do you need anything, darling?

  “No, thank you.” She kissed his cheek.

  “I’ll have the radio. Contact is five miles so if either of you need me or remember you need something you’ll have about an hour at most.”

  “Ok.” There was a small silence, and I too nodded in understanding.

  Later I filled two buckets with water from the well in their garden and struggled back into the house to wash the crockery, losing myself in my thoughts as the strong smell of bleach and citrus filled the room. The floorboards above me creaked and there was loud humming and singing from upstairs. It was nearly time: Hayley always hummed when she was excited. I was right: she bounded down the stairs and tutted loudly, causing me to hide a smile.

  “Kate, you’re not even dressed properly! C’mon, you have five minutes.”

  I sighed loudly and theatrically, pushing the hair behind my ears as I threw the tea towel at her.

  “Hurry up!”

  “What are you? My mother?” I teased lightly, pushing that small amount of memory and pain deep inside.

  “Cheeky mare! I’m far too young to be your mother.”

  Upstairs, I stared at my face in the mirror. The first time I had seen my reflection I cried. It wasn’t me in the mirror, it couldn’t possibly be me. Every morning since then I had sat and forced myself to look. Opening a jar of face cream I slowly moisturised my skin, paying attention to the discoloured skin by my left eye. The baby kicked, and I frowned, massaging my stomach and staring at my reflection again. What would I wear? I needed to look professional, but approachable: friendly yet firm. I wanted this so badly.

  “Kate.”

  She was impatient now, and my nervousness sliced through me as I pulled on a pair of plain leggings and a white tunic. I brushed my hair and thought of everything I had lost, and everything I had gained: sometimes we can’t
control what goes on around us, or even to us. I had to remember that. Just before we left the house I stood over the chessboard on the sideboard and calculated my next move. We’d been playing the same game since I arrived. Hayley had told me how Glen loved to play, but that she had never learnt the rules – so on my third morning with them I had moved my white pawn and waited. It hadn’t taken long for him to realise we were equally matched.

  “Kate! Come on.”

  I moved the pawn protecting my queen and closed the door behind me.

  It was almost nine a.m., and as we walked towards the old council building I smiled and nodded to the workmen and listened to Hayley talk. She shared everything with me: her life before the war, her love of French poetry and cheese, her hatred of The Beatles and spiders. Today was the story of how she met Glen. I had heard it before, of course, but I listened as she recalled the moment they met, in the queue for the toilets in a nightclub. It was hardly the most passionate of stories, but the way she spoke, and the adoration in her voice, made it so romantic that she could tell me the tale of their meeting a thousand times and I’d never grow bored.

  “What about you, Kate? Anyone special in your life?”

  Subtle Hayley, the same question after the same story, time and time again. I shook my head.

  “No, just me.” I didn’t want to drag up the past and I forced my memories back into Pandora’s box, away from this place. If I released them they would infect everything, ruin the sanctuary.