It disappears the moment I realize they’re all gone.
Saviour
The only thing I see is the candle, on its last legs. Its flame flickers and throws shadows on the wall beside me. But when I look left, right, turn in a circle, I know I’m alone.
Where are they? They wouldn’t have up and walked away, I know that much. Well. Probably Franklin. Maybe Annicka, but even then, I don’t think so. Definitely not Blair or Sanaa.
Then the candle flickers, sputters, and burns out throwing a strong burnt wax scent in the air as it leaves me in complete darkness.
My heart’s already pounding so hard, my pulse writhes in loud waves in my ears.
And when the darkness engulfs me, anticipation starts up again. My shoulders rise slowly as a cold trickle of sweat travels down my back. The wall is behind me, but offers little comfort to the torture I know will come.
I wait for the whispers, the screams, whatever new thing the warden decides to throw my way. But there’s nothing. Just pure darkness. And I confirm yet again, it is the anticipation of something to happen that’s the worst. I can’t let my guard down for a moment though I’m so exhausted, I just want to sleep.
My knees soften under me and I slowly lower myself. At least in this crouching position, I feel marginally safer. It’s not my ego or confidence that tells me that. It’s the only hope I have left, though there’s no hope in this place. Just this. Darkness, and the promise of more horrors to come.
Then I hear it. My breath stops for a moment, but there’s no doubt that’s music, playing in soft beats from behind the wall. It’s low, drums, and riffles and guitar sounds. It’s not unpleasant at least. It’s quite nice actually. Still, I brace myself. But nothing else happens. Just music from behind the wall.
I bring myself back up to my feet and place my right hand on the wall, then I walk steadily forward. I’ve got to move if I want to make it out of here. When I find the others—if I find the others, I’ll deal with all that later.
As I walk, I know I’m getting closer to the outside because I see what looks to be the outline of a door, with light shining out from under it. I hurry to the door and, not hearing anything from the other side, I move my palms up and around its frame, looking for anything that will lead me out. Of course thinking I may find a handle is asking for too much, but there isn’t even a seam.
I stand to the side when a shuffling and muffled shouts reach me from the other side, then I jump out of the way when it’s thrown wide open and a small figure is tossed through it to land in the darkened room, on my left.
Then one of the shark guards kicks at the figure in the belly until it stops moving. He runs back out the door and leaves us in darkness other than the small light under the door.
When the figure comes to and grunts, I realize it’s a girl. She cries softly, all wet sniffles and grunts as she moves closer to the wall.
“Hey,” I say into the dark. I know she’s heard me but she doesn’t reply. “Hey are you all right?”
Sniffles again, then hiccups, but otherwise she stays quiet.
“It’s okay,” I lie. “You’ll be okay. We just need to find a way out of here.”
“Who—who are you?” she finally says.
“I’m Romy,” I say. “What’s your name?”
“Amy.”
“Amy. Can you come to my voice? I’m just on the other side of this door here. Can you follow me?”
At first she doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t move. Then finally, she shuffles forward again, until she’s by my side.
“Okay,” I say, holding out to reach her hand until she clasps mine so hard, my fingers go numb.
Now. How in Odin to get out?
“I know you’re scared. But we’ll figure it out. We’ll get out together.”
The music still plays quietly behind the walls, only a bit louder from this angle, but still nice to listen to. It’s likely just one of the guards listening to music during his shift.
“Okay,” Amy sniffles. “But how? How will we get out of here—”
Then, as I’m thinking about our options, she says, “Romy Fifty Two.”
Her voice has changed abruptly, making me back up. I haven’t been called by my number in so long, I’m not sure how to react at first. And I realize I recognize the voice as well, but can’t place it here, can’t place it anywhere but—Prospo City. Amy.
“Amy Diamond?” I ask. As in the Diamond’s pink-tipped daughter who lived to make fun of me in my short time with them? What is she doing here? How did she get in here?
As I back up though, I know it doesn’t matter. Because whatever her reasons, Amy Diamond is not an ally. She’s already beating me with what feels like a metal pole before I realize the music’s getting even louder, the drum beats punctuated with each time the pole lands on my back, my neck, my useless arms.
I’m on the ground, my arms up and over my ears, just wanting it all to go away. Wanting the beatings to stop, the music that’s now blaring right through my bones. But it doesn’t, and the music doesn’t affect her.
Because she keeps hitting me until my arms are bloody, something breaks in my back and I’m wailing. I’m certain now that, if it weren’t for the music, Amy Diamond’s likely shrieking and whooping as she beats me to a pulp. I swear she’s yelling, calling me names.
This is what it all comes down to. The big climax. My death.
This is how I die today, beaten on the cold smelly floor of the EPrison. I can’t handle any more of this. How did Blair and Sanaa handle years of this? I’ve only been in this cell, what, two days if that? And this, right here, is my limit.
I should have turned right, is one of the last thoughts in my head.
For me, this is about it. I’d give up anything they want, I’d do anything to stop all this even if I know any promises of release are false. I just want the pain to end. I can’t tolerate much already—but this—
Despite the music, despite the pole which hurts to the point where every part of my skin aches, my heart slows right down. I struggle to meditate, and though I’m constantly pulled out of it with each beat, it helps. I’m shaking, but my mind is calmer. When I’m in, bringing my breaths right down, it’s like I’m floating in cool water but not as dense. Maybe air?
It’s okay, I tell myself. It’s okay and it will be over soon. The pain will go away. You’ll be numb. It’s okay. And one final slam of the pole blackens my world.
When I open my eyes, I’m back in my dream in the Metrill world.
Is this it? Have I achieved that elusive nirvana? Because I don’t get why this would be my heaven. I’m in one of their fields, I remember it well, where some of them conducted their little dance.
I look around and I’m alone. Still, this place always triggers in me the desire to do the dance. So I get into my pose, though something in the back of my mind shows me my bruised, battered, likely dead body in the ‘real’ world of the EPrison.
I take in a long breath and dance, ignoring the images. There’s no pain here. And the sounds are those of a warm summer breeze, maybe the slight rustle of trees. Then I sense that I’m no longer alone and, when I see her—the girl I need to save—I smile at her and she returns my smile as she comes in for a warm embrace.
This is okay, I tell myself. This sort of death? If I were to spend eternity right here, in this field, well I can handle that.
Then she turns and without saying a word, she waves me forward, indicating I should follow.
When I do, she walks straight up to one of the metal walls and pushes her small hand against it.
Instead of pushing forward, the metal simply disappears out of view and she waves me forward again, but stands to the side. Before I walk through the hole, I turn to her and she smiles again.
I give in to the instinct to give her another warm hug. Then I go through the door.
On the other side is a wall, about fifty feet high. It’s made of dark grey brick, uniform and solid. But it’s only about th
e width of a car. It’s certainly not a wall to protect anything or anyone. I walk around it, placing my hand on it, trying to see if there’s a clue there somewhere, and finding nothing but brick.
Then, I step back quickly as I realize it’s moving. Or rather, it transforms. Its top part leans back precariously and, every sixteen inches a portion slots out, forming a long staircase heading—where? I can’t see where the top ends.
I walk around it again, reminding myself that this is a dream. Because in the real world, such a structure would not stay upright like this.
Still, my mind says, Why not? I climb, and keep climbing, expecting a door at the top.
Looking down and around me as I go, I see the Metrills’ fields stretch out for miles, longer than I’d ever seen in their world. Then, by the time I’m right at the top, I know the wall was longer than I’d thought, because the earth curves away from me.
Still, I can breathe easily. Just a dream, my mind repeats. Don’t panic, it’s just a dream.
Where I thought there’d be a door at the top, I see Father instead. Well, Father’s holo if I’m being honest with myself. I remember he looks exactly like Father, but maybe a decade or so younger than my last few memories of him.
Still, I walk into his open arms and accept his hug. I don’t care if he’s just a holo, I don’t care if this is just a dream, I can’t fight my happiness in seeing him.
“You made it,” he says, his smile angelic.
“I did, Father. I died though. What good is that?”
He laughs out, as he gives me a squeeze and lets go of me to look me in the eyes.
“Maybe that’s what you needed to do to accomplish your mission,” he suggests. “What do you think?”
“I think—” It’s like my memory’s fading, but I go with what I’m feeling, and it tells me none of it matters. I’m not done yet. Though there’s a part of me fighting back, a part that reminds me there’s a lot of pain to deal with.
“This place is nice,” I finally say to Father’s holo. “I wish I could stay here with you. Forever.”
He smiles again. “And I wish so much for the same, my Romy girl.”
“That won’t happen though, will it Father?” It’s like I’m nine again, being held in his arms as he hugs me and talks about the facts of the world.
“I’m afraid not,” he says as tears pool in his eyes. “I’m afraid there’s far, far more for you to do yet. Are you ready?”
I’m really not, but I nod. “What do I need to do, Father?”
“You need to decide to jump.” He looks down past my feet to the world below.
It occurs to me that he could have said, “You need to jump,” or that he could have just pushed me.
But the distinction in his words are clear. “You need to decide to jump.”
So I give him another hug and breathe in as I turn to face the Earth below. This would be easier if there were clouds around, but it’s clear as a crisp spring day.
And I see everything. I hesitate only for a moment, but I trust him completely, so I jump.
Fallen
The wind whistles past me as I fall, and keep falling for so long, I lose count. I smell fresh flowers, vanilla, clean laundry, and the smell of turned earth right after a rainstorm.
Then I land, and every bone in my body’s broken. The pain starts from my toes and shoots up my entire body like lightning, concentrating on the back of my neck, where it radiates out again and it’s endless.
It screams from every pore and makes my extremities shudder and twitch. I wish so much to be back in the dream but I know that’s over. I know I got what I needed, my mission accomplished.
And now I’m back in the EPrison, still dead, but no longer in the dark room, no longer getting beaten by Amy Diamond and her angry yells.
My breaths start up, long, and steady. My heart beats faster as I lay here conscious, sensing everything. My tears fall into the cold cement ground under me. I can’t stop them—the pain’s unbearable. I still feel my legs though, my arms.
So whatever she broke in my back wasn’t my spine at least. But what am I doing here? I don’t move, but I fight to meditate some more, maybe not to fall into a dream again, but to alleviate some of this pain. Because I’ll scream.
I manage to put my mind in some sort of vacuum where it can ignore the pain to an extent as my nanites slowly knit me up.
Then someone enters the room and I stay even more still. I note I’m not the only ‘dead’ body in here, as I hear them pick some up, and a whoosh, and then—nothing.
Oh no. Are they throwing bodies into an incinerator? I know there aren’t any working incinerators in Apex, but who knows what they still allow here at the EPrison? And what will I do if there is an incinerator waiting for me? I can’t exactly fight in my state.
I’m but a broken thing, all bones and bruises. Nothing more.
When they do come to grab me, four sets of hands, I brace myself, knowing that the pain of being burnt to death will soon ease this.
And they throw me in. Heat hits me, engulfing my thoughts, but instead of the searing hot, broiling sort of pain I expect, it’s liquid. Oozing and dense and—cloying.
I’m floating, my front facing upwards but I’m still too scared to open my eyes. Then something solid, slimy moves past my arm and my panic takes over the desire to be careful.
I flounder, throwing my eyes wide open, and seeing—a pool of the dead.
The scene’s enough to make my heart hammer and race once again, but I stifle a scream. Instead, I keep floating as two more bodies are thrown into our dead stew. It’s an eternity before they finally stop throwing bodies.
This is a new kind of hell. My head starts listing possible diseases in this pool, but I shut it down fast. I’ve been holding my breath this entire time, but my body starts shaking again as I fight to keep my face and chin above the murky water. I don’t let myself look too closely at the dead, the idea of what I’m swimming in at the moment. But I know I have to keep my eyes open.
How do I get out of here now?
First things first, I clench my hands hard, trying to get control over my shaking body. I’m not accomplishing anything as I vibrate like a mad person.
If anything, it just makes the bodies move closer to me. At least the pool’s shallow. I manage to stand on—something. Someone—underneath me and turn slowly around, taking stock of where I am.
When I look behind me, just twenty feet away is the EPrison wall, all red and brown brick, slightly shiny from years of people trying to climb up its surface.
Then I look to my right and left and realize it has to be the moat I saw from the water. I haven’t taken a breath in a while. Mind over matter, Romy.
I take a deep breath, and wretch into the water until there’s nothing left in my stomach.
I can’t even remember the last time I ate, but my stomach grumbles aloud as if arguing it’s past due. I don’t think I’ll ever eat a thing again.
Okay, think. I don’t want to move from where I am, knowing that the more I move, the more dead bodies will touch my skin. But what sort of chems do they have in this moat anyway, that could disintegrate the dead?
I fight the shake again and resolutely walk up to the wall, placing my hands against it. To my left, I see tiny hand prints on its surface. I don’t want to know—I can’t think of any of them.
Looking up, I can just make out the door from which they’d thrown us, and thirty feet past that is the top of the EPrison.
But the wall’s too smooth. There’s no way for me to climb. Unless I fashion something out of—No, no nope. I shake my head vehemently. Nope, not touching any dead people on purpose.
Then I turn around again. How far down was the ocean from this moat? I move forward, still throwing up as I go, not bothering to wipe vomit off my face because that’s far less disgusting than the thick slime on my arms.
When I finally make it to the edge of the moat, I look down, and see rocks.
Rig
ht.
So my options are—try to climb up the EPrison’s side, and fall back into the moat, probably head first, right on these corpses.
Or—clamber over the side of this thing, and fall to my death on the rocks below.
At least I have choices? I think, fighting the crazy cackles about to ratchet out of my body. I shake my head again. No. No. NO!
What in Odin are my chances of getting out of here alive? I chew on my lips hard before I start laughing. Who knows if there are still any of those guards around in the room above?
I look over the edge of the moat again and breathe out while I pull my arms up to hover my chin on my hands. And I stare out at the ocean from this angle, for longer than I should.
I watch the waves from the distance, birds flying in the air as they catch fish and feast on them on another rock twenty feet away. I swallow audibly as the cracks in my lips ache.
There’s something unnatural about being surrounded by so much water and being dehydrated. A desert made of ocean.
And I’m conscientious enough to know that dehydration is the main reason my brain can’t quite focus right now. Still—
I look down again, trying to remember which side of the prison I’m on. The rocks are about, what? Fifty feet down, give or take a few feet.
They’re right under this moat— if only there was a way for me to take a running jump.
Then it hits me. There is a way, of course. I don’t like it, but it is a way. I mean, let’s be real. There’s not much about the last several days that I like. What’s just a little bit more?
Before I submit to the thought that I’m losing my mind, I look around at the dead again.
I want to lie to myself that this is all but a bad dream, talk myself into letting it hit me. Nothing works, as I fumble to remove clothes from the dead bodies that were thrown in here with me.
The fresher they are, the easier it will be for the clothes to come off. And, despite not wanting to look at any of their faces, I confirm that none of them are my team, or Annicka. Well that’s good.
Romy's Last Stand: Book III of the 2250 Saga Page 17