The following morning, Annabelle still had not slept. The entire time she had been watching Erica and Andy, partially hoping they would wake up to comfort her. Outside, a bird was tweeting. Initially, the chirping had annoyed her, but not too long after she realised how grateful she was for that bird to be there – it was a remnant of the old days. Even birds had become rare now due to a lack of food. The beautiful sound of the chirping was interrupted however, as Andy woke up and rustled his sleeping bag obnoxiously loudly. Once he had stopped moving, the bird was no longer chirping. Presumably, the raucous had caused it to fly away. The worst part was that Andy had fallen right back asleep again, causing Annabelle to sigh in annoyance at him.
Once they were properly up, they had gotten right back to fishing. There were only a few left for breakfast that morning, therefore more were needed. “Alright Andy, let’s see a few more catches from you today,” Erica taunted him. But for Andy, it was his goal. He was determined to best Annabelle’s number of catches. He was rather unnecessarily tense. Looking over at Annabelle, he noticed how relaxed and casual she was. Interpreting this as advice, he flexed and loosened his shoulders, throwing the rod into the water. “I got one!” Annabelle called out. Andy noted how she carefully wound the rod to reel it back up, without any opposition. He took a deep breath, prepared for anything to launch at the bait on his rod.
Zach’s map was not too difficult to read. It was rather small and the directions were blatantly obvious. Yet still, he had not found the manhole cover with the star-rock next to it; in fact, he had not even come across a single manhole cover. “This is hopeless!” He went to rip the paper, but then refrained himself. Looking at it even more closely, he began to realise his mistake. Flipping it around, he noticed he had been looking at it the wrong way. “All night… So many hours… So tired,” He felt rather stupid. Up ahead, there was an engine noise – sounds which he had become familiar with now strangely. Except this engine was more ‘raw’. As the vehicle in question came in to view around the corner, Elliot looked bewildered to see a motorbike. The rider nodded at Elliot to greet him, then carried on going straight past him. He wasn’t sure what was stranger: The fact that a motorbike had just zoomed past, or the fact that the driver didn’t care there was another living soul around. As the motorbike was headed in the direction Elliot actually should’ve been going, he followed it on regardless, hoping for answers.
Gwen had called another group meeting in the morning. “Look around guys,” She sounded worried, “Me, Olivia, Tina, Zach, Pierre. Who’s missing?” Pierre raised his hand, “Reed?” Everyone looked at him completely bemused, “No, idiot. I mean, well yes, technically. But he’s never here anyway. Who else is missing Pierre? Really look hard at all of us.” He let out the words “Um” and “Ah” quite a few times, as everyone continued to look at him in a bemused way. “Oh for crying out loud. It’s Elliot!” Gwen couldn’t stand Pierre any longer. “Oh, right! Yes, so he is! Where is then?” Finally, he was caught up with the rest of the group. “That’s why I summoned you all here. I couldn’t see him in his bunker this morning, nor could I find him anywhere. None of the agents here have seen ‘Agent November’ as they refer to him either. “I know where he is,” Zach confessed, “I snuck him out of the airfield last night.” They all looked at him daringly, “Why did you do that?” He took a deep breath, “Foxtrot is on to you guys. He knows you’re working against him. I sent Elliot to another group of survivors, a friendlier group. I wanted to send at least one more of you outside, but I couldn’t reach any of your bunkers without being noticed. I’m pretty sure someone saw me reach Elliot as well.” Everyone moved their hands closer to their knives, or in Olivia’s case, her axe. “I tried telling Elliot this, maybe one of you will understand: We must act now.” Hands hovering over their melee weapons, everyone looked outside the bunker windows.
Andy was having a successful run with fishing for once. Already there were three in his bucket. For once, Erica was actually impressed with him; and not in a mocking way. “Have you been hypnotised by a professional fisherman or something?” Erica couldn’t believe how well he was doing. “Don’t break my concentration Eri’.” She looked at him strangely, “Sorry, what did you just call me?” He turned to her, and noticed her jokingly-stern look, “Sorry, I mean Erica. Now if you don’t mind, I have fishing to do.” She headed over to Annabelle, still looking at Andy, waiting for karma to take its’ toll – perhaps his rod would snap. “What’s going into him?” She asked her, but she responded with a shrug. “He’s only two away from as many as you’ve got, and we’ve only been at it for twenty minutes.” Annabelle shrugged again, “Guess he’s just doing the best he can.” Backing away, Erica looked back and forth between the both of them, she could tell that something was wrong with both of them.
After journeying in the correct direction he was supposed to, Elliot had finally found the manhole cover with the star-shaped rock next to it. Interestingly, the motorbike which he had seen earlier was also near it. Elliot took a deep breath, and leant down to pull the manhole cover off. Before he did however, he remembered what Zach told him about how opposed this group was to the Government agents. Looking down him, he noticed he was wearing the exact same outfit as the agents. To avoid any misunderstanding, Elliot unbuttoned and removed his jacket as well as his black tie. He untucked and made his shirt scruffier as well. Now, he took another deep breath and pulled the cover off.
Descending down the ladder, he reached the bottom eventually. He found himself in a long tunnel, which oddly was lit by several flame torches held against the wall. It was as though he had broken into a medieval castle. Following the lit path, Elliot placed both of his hands over his weapons – his left on his pistol, his right around his knife. Continuing to walk like this, he came to a T-junction. Both tunnels were lit by the torches. In the old days, he would flip a coin to make a decision like this. Now however, he simply went with his gut instinct, and turned right rather than continue forwards.
Again, this tunnel was lengthy. Elliot still cautiously walked with his hands on his weapons, but became less alarmed feeling that there may be no life here after all. On the left wall, he noticed a familiar marking, it was a chalk-drawing of the star-shaped rock next to the manhole cover. He wondered to himself what exactly it meant. “Arrêt! [Halt!]” A man appeared further up head in the tunnel, with a fearful woman standing behind him. They were both dressed casually, yet the man had a sword sheath protruding from his side. As he drew the sharp blade out, Elliot raised his hands up in the air, “Zach!” He had taken on board the advice of what to do in a “dire situation”. The man lowered his sword slightly. The woman stepped in front of him, lowering the sword all the way down. “The accent. You are English, yes?” The woman was still French, but also one of the two English-speakers, which relieved Elliot. “Yes. Yes, I am indeed. Zach sent me here.” The woman turned around, and nodded at the man, who then sheathed his sword. “My name is Elliot. Zach helped me escape the airfield.” The woman looked him up and down, “You are dressed poorly.” Elliot could tell she was not entirely fluent in English due to her use of basic words only, “Come. I will give you good clothes.” Still, her English was good enough for him to understand her.
The tunnel up ahead had been knocked through to connect with a wine cellar. There were two beds in the room, as well as a flight of stairs. “Are we under a house?” Elliot asked. “A very big house,” the woman responded. “Like a mansion?” She looked at him strangely, “You’re only conversational in my language, aren’t you?” She bowed her head, “I’m sorry.” Elliot thought she didn’t mean to come across as apologetic as she had intended to. “Change,” She gave him a pile of clothes, “I will get the man who speaks English.” He nodded at her, “Thanks.”
He buttoned up his new shirt, and adjusted the cuffs. Looking in the mirror, he liked what he was wearing, he just loved the combination of the black jeans and the lilac shirt. He could also see the reflection of a man walking down
the stairs in the mirror, definitive brown hair, rather tall as well. He too had a sword and was dressed casually. “You must be Elliot,” While he was French like the others, Elliot already knew he was fluent in the language, “I am indeed. Good day to you, sir,” The man rolled his eyes jokingly, “Oh please, you don’t need to flatter me with all that ‘sir’ nonsense. Call me Seymour. I see you’ve met my two associates Abel and Celeste already. You must pardon Abel’s instinct to draw his sword, the tunnels can be a very dangerous place when there is a stranger amongst them.” Elliot nodded to accept this, “Now then. Why don’t you come upstairs and meet the rest of the group then! Oh wait,” he checked his watch, “Oh dear, five minutes left! You might as well wait here, the others will be down momentarily.” As Seymour rushed back up, Elliot wondered what the threat of five minutes’ time presented.
Now that the entire group was downstairs, everyone remained silently momentarily. Some of them even appeared to pray. Elliot noted this behaviour; whatever the threat was, it clearly scared them. The sound of a large object not too far away above ground put Elliot and the rest of the group on edge. Several minutes passed before the heavy-sound faded away. “Seymour, what was that?” Elliot was right in with the questions, “The ultimate sinners. Something far worse than your government bad guys.” He looked at Seymour in a manner that prompted more answers, “They take people. They skin people. They do even worse things too. They attack the unsuspecting. That’s why the government base still stands. It’s too open to be attacked by them.” Elliot looked slightly worried about any of his friends who were escaping the airfield. “Worry not, my new friend Elliot, for you have us!” Seymour turned to the rest of the group and spoke to them in French. The only word Elliot could make out was his own name, “Elliot”. Seymour turned back to him, “You have already met Abel and Celeste obviously,” They bowed their heads at him, “These two brave men here are known as Sebastian and Langley.” They too bowed their heads at him even though they didn’t understand Seymour’s English words, but could guess by his gestures. “I’m… delighted, to meet you all. Especially after spending an entire year in that bloody airfield.” Seymour translated what Elliot said, he stopped at the translation for “bloody” due to how British of a term it was. He therefore substituted it with the French equivalent. “Zach wanted me to come here. He waited a long time to tell me about you. I want to know why.” Seymour began to translate this as well, but then realised Elliot was directly talking to him. “You say you have, friends, back in that base?” Elliot nodded in confirmation. “I have to go back and help them. I think Zach believes you guys can help me.” Seymour translated this in a joking manner, causing the group to laugh. “I’m serious! I can’t leave my people behind. Especially with those sinners outside!” Seymour shook his head sorrowfully, “No, my friend. It is simply too dangerous. We will await Zach’s return. That boy is skilful.” But Elliot was persistent, “Ask them. Ask your warriors if any of them are willing to help me.” Before Seymour could say ‘No’, Elliot intercepted him with his very limited French knowledge, “S'il vous plait? [Please?]” Seymour stopped again, and nodded. He translated Elliot’s request to the group. As expected however, none of them raised their hand. Instead, a few of them even laughed. “I am sorry, my English friend,” Seymour reported. Elliot leant back, annoyed.
“Ok then, time’s up!” Erica called out as Andy and Annabelle reeled their rods back in. Now that there actually was some level of rivalry, they handed their buckets to her. Both Andy and Annabelle looked competitively at each other whilst Erica counted up the fish in both buckets. “Andy,” She started, “Impressively, you have caught a total of twelve fish in the hour given to you! Well done indeed.” He was proud of himself, but Annabelle still looked confident. “As for you Annabelle, in the hour given to you, you have caught a total of, drum-roll please.” They looked at each other, then submitted, drum-rolling on their knees, “Ten fish!” Andy gloated at her, as Annabelle looked astonished, “No way! Are you serious?” Erica nodded at her with a provocative smile. It was all fun and games until the sound of a helicopter echoed from the distance. “No, it can’t be…” Annabelle refused to believe it, but nonetheless they all still ducked under the nearest tree for cover. Looking up, it was indeed what they suspected: a helicopter flew overhead. It looked identical to the one they had crashed in. “A whole year… And we haven’t seen a single one. Why now?” They all looked at each other, flurried.
The helicopter was being piloted by Tango and Sierra, with Gwen and Tina in the back. “Are you still absolutely certain about this?” Tina asked her over the headset intercom. “Absolutely. For the past year I’ve been too afraid to go back, afraid of whatever I may find. Now, perhaps I can finally trace my daughter to wherever she ended up.” Gwen looked straight ahead, she could see the coast of England in the distance.
Erica, Andy and Annabelle watched as the helicopter faded into the horizon. “It’s heading back towards England, why?” Erica noted. “To find another unsuspecting group maybe?” Andy suggested. Annabelle was still fixated on where she had seen the helicopter fade into the distance from, “Or is it someone gone out looking for us… I mean think hypothetically for a minute. Supposing that my mother and her group arrived on that day we were all supposed to, would that not mean they’ve been there for a year now? Who’s to say this isn’t a one-year anniversary ‘treat’?” While Andy dismissed the theory immediately, Erica saw the logic, “Like perhaps your mum was allowed to go looking for you? Gosh that actually makes sense. What if you’re right then? What if you’re mum was on that chopper?” Annabelle turned back around, “I seriously hope I’m wrong. I would hate to find out we were that close to seeing her again…”
Since Gwen and Tina had gone back to England, Reed always staying in his bunker, and Elliot having left the base entirely, Olivia was now on her own again. She had spoken to Zach, who had now agreed to help her sneak out. He had drawn out another rough map, “Find that manhole cover, and you’ll find that group. Don’t worry too much, Elliot’s a smart guy, he’ll have made it to them,” Olivia was impressed with how outgoing a fourteen-year-old boy was in the day and age which they were living. “I promise once I find him, we’ll come back for you, ok?” She assured him, but he didn’t need any assurance, “Don’t worry about it Olivia. I’ll make my own way over when I’m ready. No need to risk anybody’s lives. Oh and because it’s daytime, I would advise keeping as hidden away as possible. You never know, the Sinners could be out on their daily ‘clearance’… I’ve said too much. Ask Elliot to speak to Seymour if you want more information about them. Go now, before we get noticed.” Her confidence levels had been slightly knocked down by Zach’s last piece of ‘advice’.
Annabelle had run all the way to the edge of France, as close to the Channel as she could get. “Are there not any boats here, at all?” She looked around the coast. “Annabelle stop this,” Erica and Andy caught their breath after running to catch up with her. “Listen, we don’t even know if that was your mum. It’s just a whacky theory!” She turned around and snapped, “It’s not whacky at all! You agreed with it yourself, Erica! It does make sense after all when you really think about it. Why else would they head back to England after all this time?” Andy answered this one, “Maybe they need more prisoners? I mean, we have no idea what’s going on wherever their base is. I only recall them saying something about ‘needing us for tests’ and whatnot. Perhaps now it’s time to replenish their stock.” Annabelle didn’t understand why her friends were so against her, “Why don’t you want this to be true? We may finally see my mum again! You may finally see Vincent again!” She pointed at Andy, in reference to how close friends the two were, “And you, Erica. Your daughter, what if that’s why you never found her? How do you know she wasn’t taken by the government as well?” They both remained silent for a few moments, before Erica reached out to her. “Annabelle… Be honest with yourself. What can we realistically do? You’ve seen there are no boats arou
nd here. We can’t swim across the sea either.” Annabelle shrugged, “I don’t know! We’ll think of a way; I know we will.” As Erica got closer to her, Annabelle pulled out her pistol, tightly gripping it. “I’m deadly serious Erica. Even if my mum isn’t on that exact helicopter, the people who are on it know where she is. It’s the exact same make. You heard what Ethan said, who else could own a model like that?” She was shaking slightly, but was indeed serious about using the pistol if necessary…
Chapter 10
Landing in the middle of an open field, Gwen was eager to get off the helicopter. Like an overexcited child at a theme park, Gwen hurried Sierra and Tango to land the helicopter quicker. Once they finally had done so and it was safe to leave, Gwen jumped right out. “Slow down!” Tina tried to keep up with her, “It’s been an entire year Gwen, a couple of minutes won’t make any difference.” But still she headed right back to the seaside town.
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