by Mike Essex
As I looked at the bed and back at the man I started to realise what was happening here. There could only be one reason why the surroundings were so nice in a prison cell. This was a conjugal visit.
He looked me in the eyes and smiled. “Hello, I’m Jacobi, who are you?”
I remained silent, hoping he’d go away.
“So I don’t even get to know your name?” he rested his hand on his belt and I felt sick at what was about to happen. I shifted my legs to try and feel if my knife had been taken and a further wave of nausea rushed over me when I realised it had.
“Do you know the power of introductions?” he continued. “Romances have bloomed, alliances have been made and entire civilizations have been formed because people made the initial attempt at communication. Without transparency and discourse we are just two monologues crashing together, wouldn’t you agree?”
My head hurt from the stark lights and his larger than life conversation. I ran through the different hand to hand attacks I could try if he attempted to have his way with me. Most of them were impossible if my hands and legs continued to be bound, almost all of them unlikely to work if he tied me to the bed. My options were severely limited.
“Rude aren’t you? Well I’m not in the mood to play games,” he lent towards me and I felt his breath tickle my neck.
I closed my eyes and all I could feel was the rope cutting into my wrists.
“Do something Emmie,” I told myself. Now was not the time to be the victim. Now was not the time to be weak.
“When you are ready to play just tell me your name and you’ll learn the importance of words,” he walked out of the room leaving me alone.
As the door closed I was trapped back inside the prison cell. There was no way I’d tell him my name. Why did he even want it anyway? So he could cry it out whilst he had his way with me? It didn’t bear thinking about.
For now time was on my side and hopefully also for my friends. The longer any of us had in our cells the more time we had to try and escape.
I reached my fingers to the binds that held my hands together. It felt like a thick rope, slightly frayed but new enough to have kept its strength. I tried to pull my hands apart and wiggle them free but the rope started to scratch my wrists, eventually causing a burning sensation from the friction.
My legs were equally restrained but the rope was slightly loser, which presented an opportunity. Spurred on by the thought of what Jacobi would do to me I started to tap the heel of my foot up and down, wriggling it around to try and force the rope to loosen.
As the gap between the rope and my leg increased the knot on the rope only grew stronger. It was nothing more than a false hope, I had freed my leg a little but removing the rope would be even harder now.
My hope was that I could make the gap big enough that I’d be able to lift my foot through it. At least then if I could stand I might be able to find a way to release the rope from my hands. With all the high-tech kit the soldiers had used earlier it seemed odd that they would keep me prisoner with nothing more than a few strands of rope. Who were these people?
I used my feet to pry my shoes off, and kicked them under my chair hoping they wouldn’t be seen if anyone came in to check on me. I then focused on the gap around my right ankle and whilst the knot remained tight I felt there was enough space for what I needed to do. I raised my foot until it was resting on my toes and ran a perfectly straight invisible line from the floor to the ceiling.
In the next stage I raised my foot up with a sudden shock to try and pry it through the gap. The first attempt caught my ankle, the rope scratching against my skin as it did so. The second time, the rope caught the back of my heel. The force pulled the rough edges of the rope against my skin and it cut into me. I pulled my foot back from the pain and the rope returned around my leg as tight as before.
I psyched myself up for one final attempt. If I could just pull my leg a little faster the rope would pop over my foot. “Come on Emmie. Do it for R&R and Olive, Tom and Chris. Do it for Will.”
I looked directly ahead at the door in front of me and tried to make my back as straight as possible. Aside from the bend at my waist and at my knees my body was a perfect straight line. “Floor to ceiling, floor to ceiling” I repeated to myself as I pictured my leg moving triumphantly upwards and free from the rope.
I counted down from three before my final attempt and tugged my leg upwards. The rope reached the edge of my heel and felt like it would slide down over it with a little more force. Despite the roughness of the rope I kept pulling ever upwards. I could feel the rope cutting through the end of my heel, trying to break through the skin.
“One … more … TIME!” I pulled my knee up, forcing my leg upwards and with a moment of deep satisfaction my leg broke free of the rope. As the feeling returned to my foot I felt an almighty crack coming from beneath me. I looked towards the source of the noise just in time to see the chair leg clatter on to the floor. My chair fell to the left, sending my face directly towards the floor.
The chair clattered on to its side and I landed on my left shoulder with another cracking sound. But this was not the sound of the chair collapsing. It was the sound of my shoulder being popped out of its socket from the force. The next sound was involuntary but inevitable, I cried out in agony from the pain coursing through me.
When I started screaming I expected them to come rushing in; to take care of their prisoner and at the very least tie me back to the chair. Yet no one came. I lay there on the floor, one leg free and both of my arms still tied together behind my back, waiting for someone to help. So much for my daring escape. The pain was making my eyes blur, even if I somehow got out of the locked room I wouldn’t make it very far with my arm in so much pain.
I’d seen my fair share of injuries in Smyth West; such was life as a have-not. There was always a task that needed manual labour, whether it was helping fix broken houses or finding food for the group and in that time I’d broken bones and caught all sorts of illnesses. Yet despite the danger, every time there had been someone there to help. R&R or Will or when he was around even my father would help tend to me when I was sick or injured. I did the same for them and in the boundaries of Smyth West you always felt like someone would help if things were at their worst.
Laying on the floor in this perfectly styled prison that feeling was gone. The only feeling now was the pain rushing through my arm, my body trying to make sense of what I had done to it and how it could be fixed. I tried not to focus on the pain and kicked away the broken bits of chair from behind me.
Kicking one of the chair legs away freed my other leg and meant I could now stand, although even that was a laborious process. The pain in my shoulder had blocked out the aches in my knees from where I had landed on them but now I felt it. All tingly and sore, I could feel the yellow and purple bruises starting to form.
I propped my good shoulder against the wall and used it to reduce some of the weight on my legs as I stood up. Once I stood tall I walked slowly towards the door as my legs started to ease up from the shock.
As I walked to the door I thought about the training I’d received at the Smyth West police station. I was only a recent graduate, never even getting to start my first day of full time work but there were still morsels from the training that I hoped would see me fight off Jacobi.
Hand-to-hand combat had been one of those core lessons and no I wasn’t a ninja if that’s what you were thinking. We simply learnt about knee, hand, elbow and head strikes through an assortment of kicks and punches. There were also throws and wrist holds, designed to help us bring down a suspect or counter their attacks.
In principle all of those ideas seemed like great ways to defend myself, except the few times I’d used them fending off Tobias and his mind-controlled hordes I hadn’t fared too well. Oh and this time I only had one working shoulder and hands that were tied together.
I could still move my shoulder slightly and twist it in a circular motion which was su
rprising and made me hope it was not a separated shoulder. It would certainly need treatment, I was very sure of that, but one of The Deck should be able to help if I could get free. Once reunited we’d also have to retrieve our headsets and call March so he could walk us through the procedure.
March. How I longed to hear his voice right now. Not just for the medical advice, although that would certainly put my mind at ease, but just to hear his support.
Except he wasn’t here and no one else was going to fight this battle for me. Sure I could wait in my cell and hope one of the others got free, or I could take action. I chose the latter.
When I reached the door I held my arms out in front of me ready for what I had to do next. Knowing I’d only get one chance to be free I said the only words that would release me:
“I’m Emmie Keyes.”
SIXTEEN
As the door opened a soldier entered and I lunged forwards with my right shoulder and pulled the ties around my hands over their neck. I pulled them back away from the door but with more pressure than I’d intended. They weighed less than I expected and the force was too much, causing them to lose their footing and sending us falling to the floor.
I pushed their body off my own and they rolled onto their back. It was then I saw their face.
“Olive?”
She laid on the floor her face now a pale white that ran across every inch of her skin. If she’d been given the medicine then it certainly was not working. I looked down at her legs and saw a scar, recoiling as soon as I saw it. The wound wasn’t healing and looked worse now than it had at any stage before.
The main cut now looked a black purple colour, etched with thick clumps of dried blood. I daren’t move the blood to see what lied beneath and the sight of the yellow pustules that had formed on the blood clots made me wonder if it was even safe to touch.
Olive could barely speak, her teeth clenched from the pain and her body worn from fighting the infection. I was sure now; she hadn’t been given the medicine. What I wasn’t clear on was whether Chris had refused to give up the medicine or if the people here had refused to give it to her.
“I take it you know each other?” Jacobi stood in the doorway, blocking my exit.
“Why haven’t you treated her?” I shouted.
“Are you ready to talk now?”
“Yes! Help her!”
“You mean with this?” he retrieved the medical kit from behind the door and swung it in front of us teasingly.
“She’s dying, can’t you see? If you don’t save her now then she’ll die.”
“That I’m quite sure of. Our doctor checked her over and if the fever keeps rising he’d give her a day to live,” he stated this not with concern but simply with cold hard fact.
“Then do it!”
“And waste a perfectly good medical kit on someone I don’t even know? I have a responsibility to my citizens and I don’t even know you, or her.”
“Your citizens? What about human decency?”
“Human decency? That stopped hundreds of years ago, the 20 Day Siege only confirmed what we all knew already. That society is flawed and that we can’t all just help each other along.”
“So you’ll just watch her die? You can do that and go to sleep like nothing has happened?”
He thought about this for a moment and replied with “Yes. If it means I can save someone in my group then I’d swap her life for theirs.”
“And if we joined your group?” I asked.
“Oh that’s what I’m counting on. I have a little test for you. Pass and we’ll save her. Fail and we’ll kill every one of your friends.”
There was no need to think about his test. “What do you need me to do?”
They took Olive back to her cell and took me to a medical centre where my shoulder was checked for breakages whilst my hands remained bound together.
“Don’t think of this as a kindness,” said Jacobi. “I need you in the best possible condition if you are to pass this test.”
Thankfully my shoulder wasn’t broken and it was easily popped back into position. I say “easily”, the pain felt like torture for me despite the ease in which it popped back into place. I could now move my shoulder fully again although the internal bruising made it hurt when I tried to rotate it fully.
It felt like they deliberately tried to show me as little as possible of the facility, keeping me held in the medical centre whilst they gathered the tools I’d need for my test. Sitting there reminded me of the time I had spent healing in The Deck base and how my relationship with March had grown in the most unlikely of places.
This centre was the total opposite. Whilst The Deck base had been fairly high tech this facility had grown worn through the passage of time. The ceilings were covered with holes that let in water from the caverns above. This had rusted the walls to such an extent that their original colour was hard to determine.
The whole place had an unfinished feel. Modern surfaces clashed with exposed chunks of rock that had either never been covered whilst it was being built or had been exposed over time as they fought back against the human control keeping them in place. In one corner a heart monitor was covered in plastic looking like it had never been used.
Whatever this place had been built for originally it certainly was never finished. Whether that was due to the Siege or something else was hard to determine.
Jacobi returned with two soldiers who he introduced as his ‘colleagues’. Although names were not given I liked to think of them as “John” and “Doe” due to this. They showed me a pistol and two clips of ammunition.
“The gun is loaded. You have 30 bullets to complete your test. Do it well and you won’t need any,” said Jacobi.
“And my test is?” I asked.
“Do you work for SO13?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Good. Then this is your chance to prove it. One of their bases is located nearby on the surface. If you are telling the truth then you’ll have no problem sneaking in and retrieving something for us.”
“Sneak into a military base and steal something? Is he insane?” I thought to myself. Knowing I had no other option if I wanted Olive to live I replied with. “Ok. But there’s one thing I need guaranteed.”
“Go on.”
“That you’ll give Olive the medicine and won’t hurt my friends.”
“Trust is the most valuable human commodity left, wouldn’t you agree?”
I nodded.
“Good. Then yes, I promise not to hurt them. Now it’s your turn to fulfil your part of the promise.”
A bag was shoved over my head and tied around my neck. I could barely breathe through the tiny air holes that had been provided. They forced me to my feet and walked me through the base.
“Please try to survive,” said Jacobi.
SEVENTEEN
I could hear the wind whistling in the air as we emerged from the tunnels. Our journey had taken me through countless twists and turns and on some occasions I could swear we had doubled back on ourselves. Jacobi had been very careful to hide the entrance to his base and both the bag over my head and the confusing path we had walked made it impossible to tell exactly where we were heading.
When the bag was removed I turned around expecting to see where we had exited but could only see tower blocks surrounding us.
“Where are we?” I asked John and Doe.
Jacobi was not with us but John placed a device in my ear. It wasn’t as high tech as the earpiece used by The Deck but I could still hear the voice on the other end.
“The SO13 base is not far,” said Jacobi, “and my colleagues will escort you to it. Once there you’ll need to meet with a man inside the base.”
Doe held up a photo on his phone of a man in an army uniform. I tried to take in as many details as I could; large black rimmed glasses, short brown hair, three freckles on his left cheek and some acne scarring on the right, a broad jawline and a largish nose.
“Don’t worry,
he’s an asset on the inside, he’s one of us.”
“And you are what exactly? Freedom fighters?”
“More like survivors. Just find him, he’ll explain the rest. But if you try anything we have a little insurance policy.”
The earpiece started to whir and buzz loudly. The sound made my ear feel like it would explode and it started to make my eardrum tingle. I could feel my ear start to itch as the sound grew louder.
Jacobi’s voice was louder now also. “That’s just the sound of the earpiece fusing with your ear drum. It’s in far too deep for you to remove it now but if you were tempted to meddle with it then the explosive inside will detonate.”
“Is this how you get people to trust you? With force?”
“Force?” he laughed. “I hate violence. But there are times when a little bit of coercion is required I must admit. So remember, if you run, if you alert the guards or if you try to attack my colleagues then…”he paused for effect. “BOOM!”
“I get it,” I replied. Jacobi’s voice was starting to grate on me. I had no intention of running; Olive was all the insurance policy that was needed. Could he really think I was a soldier with the SO13 forces on the surface? Perhaps I appeared stronger than I thought?
Whatever strength I perceived myself to have I’d need all of it to make it through the next assault. John placed a pistol and two clips of ammunition into a holster on my belt. He used his knife to cut the ropes around my hands and then he handed it to me. This hadn’t been one of the original weapons I’d been shown and his smile showed me that this was his own knife.
I smiled back to thank him for his kindness, even though he was probably acting out of pity. I attached the knife to my belt, then retrieved the gun and held in in my hands.
In front of us I could see a large park that had been left to grow out of control. Bushes had turned into sharp twisted shapes full of jagged, tangled vines. The grass had grown to such a length that it had died and regrown several times until the lower levels now resembled a brown mush.