(2014) Deep Inside

by Jack Parker

  The weeds had been trampled over and were in a worst state than before, and the door… it lay on the floor, completely wrenched off of its hinges.

  All was silent apart from Lia's frantic pants as she clambered through the doorway, then stopped, the bile rising up her throat.

  Lying on the dirty tiling were two corpses, both supporting bullet wounds gushing with blood.

  Dominic and Lessandra Relanne were dead.

  Lia collapsed and vomited across the tiles, her body trembling. Her throat seared with pain from the biting hydrochloric acid fighting its way up. She felt numb…so numb…even the painful throbbing of her head couldn't overcome the searing pain in her chest, the overwhelming loneliness. She felt a sudden detachedness, as if she wasn't actually there, but inside she knew she was. She was a spectator, a spectator watching her life break apart before her eyes.

  There were no thoughts, no emotions, just a blank. A great gashing blank consuming her mind.

  She couldn't cry, couldn't speak. Then she felt as though she should cry, but she didn't know what for, because it felt as though it wasn't actually happening. It felt like she wasn't actually there. What was her reaction meant to be, though? Should she cry? Scream? Or just sit there and vomit until there was nothing left?

  The vomiting made the pain lessen and, if only for a moment, her mind felt occupied.

  Her parents were dead… The sentence sounded unreal, like it was all just a dream and she would wake up at any moment and find herself back in Cadlia, on her bed. Or maybe it was a misunderstanding, maybe it was someone else's body strewn across the tiles. Then she looked again at the rich, scarlet blood mixing with the dirt, the unpolished dirt of the tiles.

  Her body was suddenly racked with sobs, short trembling sobs which sounded like bits of screaming and shrieking all mangled into one big mess. She felt in the back of her mind, subconsciously, that screaming would make the pain lessen. Hot tears ran across her dirty face, tears that she could not register, she was crying yet only part of her knew she was crying.

  Yet she still felt nothing. She was crying, she was trembling, she was screaming, yet she felt nothing.

  Through her hot tears she suddenly spotted a small piece of paper lay beside the two bodies. Lia reached out a trembling hand and picked it up, instantly recognizing Jack's rough, shaky scrawl.

  'I'm so sorry Lia, for all I said. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it at all but now I'm scared. I'm scared Lia, so very scared. I hope I don't have to give you this, I hope you'll be back before they come.

  I don't know what to do. They're dead. Oh god, Lia, they're dead and now they'll come back. They'll come back and take me and I don't know what to do, Lia. I feel so alone…I feel so alone…'

  CHAPTER 2

  5 years later

  Climb down or else you'll fall

  A thick, white fog clung to the shady tree, the sky a vast gray tinged with wisps of white light. Broad green leaves glistened with fresh drops of rain which clutched their smooth outline and upon losing their grip, slowly descended to the ground and rippled the dank puddles beneath.

  Under its twisted branches, hidden below a canopy of wet leaves, a small breath blew out into a cloud of white. It was clear for a few seconds, then slowly it faded into the thick air of humidity.

  You're so high up, yeah, you're so high up

  Unbreakable on that vintage point.

  The leaves rustled slightly as the person who exhaled manoeuvred herself into a more comfortable position, her legs drenched in fresh rain which seeped through her trousers. She moved a stray branch from her line of vision, dubious brown eyes focused on the house only miles away.

  She could hear the soft ticking of the watch securely strapped over her wrist. Tick…tick…tick…The girl's irritation mounted slowly. Her legs ached from the constant pricking of bark and her back was wet and stiff. Slowly, she slid a hand into her trouser pocket and pulled out a small, black radio which was shaped like a phone.

  Holding it to her ear, she pressed a few buttons. She then waited until she could hear a rough, static sound.

  "Jude, you cynical prick, where the fuck is he?" she hissed, her voice lined with malice and an underlying irritation mixed with sheer boredom.

  The static continued for a few moments, she then heard a soft scraping sound followed by a voice, a voice which was strong and calm, yet demanding.

  "Tsk, tsk. Patience is a virtue, Li. It's part of the job. Now get your ass turned right back 'round and keep an eye out. He could get out any moment and you have to be ready."

  Lia sighed and resumed her position. It was pointless arguing with Jude. Whatever Jude said was law. It was times like these that made her wish she wasn't a girl. If she weren't the girl, she wouldn't have to do this. If she were a boy it would probably be Carmon's job, this was his forte; not hers. Or they would have picked one of the other girls. But no, she had to be a girl

  Care to look at the ground

  Lia was suddenly snapped out of her reverie by the sharp clicking of a gate. Quickly, she returned her gaze back to the uneven gray path leading up to the large house. Her eyes glimpsed a lone figure, his broad back facing her as he fumbled with the key to the gate, white trainers squelching in the mud.

  The ground beneath your shoe

  That shoe that just steps on it all

  Lia rolled her eyes. How long was he going to take to close a damn gate? Upon realising that he wouldn't be done any time soon she once again pulled out the radio to be met with the same static.

  "Ju-u-ude," she cooed, her voice laced with an innocent fake sweetness.

  "What?" he replied, roughly

  "Whatcha doin'?"

  "Lia, shut up and get on with it."

  "Fine then, I'll just talk to Carmon," she hissed, pressing another button, her eyes still trained on the fat figure who was now fumbling through the mud for the key he had so wittingly dropped.

  "Carmon," she whispered.

  She was once again met with a thick line of static followed by some clearance and a voice, slowly cutting through.

  "Yeah, babe?"

  "Why can't we just kill the bastard and get it over with?"

  "If only life were that easy, babes," came the reply.

  There was another sharp wrench of static as Jude's voice cut through their conversation.

  "Lia, don't you dare make any rash moves!" he warned. "You know the mission, so stick to it."

  "Jude, shut up. He's finally closed the gate." Lia rolled her eyes. Jude always zapped the fun out of everything. Well, at least she'd annoyed him a bit. It was always fun to annoy Jude. Carmen and she had made it a hobby.

  She hurriedly refocused her attention onto the path, where the figure was making an attempt at jogging. Lia let out a snort of laughter, her radio still in hand. A sharp static noise filtered through the dense canopy of leaves followed by a voice laced with an underlying irritation.

  "What is it now, Lia?"

  "Ha, Jude, you have to see this. Even you must have enough of a sense of humor to enjoy this. Fat boy Fallock's trying to jog on the path wearing a tight track suit. Who knew a human being could possess so many flab rolls?"

  She could imagine Jude rolling his eyes as Carmon chuckled lightly on the other end.

  "Lia, this is a serious mission. Now enough messing about, what's your position?"

  Lia straightened her back and brushed a few stray leaves off of her lap.

  "Okay, I'm in front of his house, one or two miles max amongst the branches of the end tree lining the path. To my right is his house because of the angle I'm sat at. To my left is the path leading to the road. Behind me, In front of the tree I'm sitting in, is the third path which leads to another street. Lining the sides of the paths are lots of trees so if I get down from behind, he won't notice me until I step onto the path in front. Time; 8:45 am. He left the house at 8:36 am and managed to get the gate shut by 8:42. The ring of keys has been placed in his bottom right pocket. His attire consists of grey
tracksuit bottoms with pockets on either side, a grey zip top beneath which is a glint of white; I presume it's a tee shirt. Hair is in disarray and feet are clad in white and silver striped trainers which are now caked in mud. He'll reach my position in approximately twenty minutes, judging by his speed."

  You ever looked

  At what you step on?

  Lia laid her eyes on the man stumbling across the puddle strewn path, Arthur Jeremiah Fallock, the Leader of sector 1 of the anti-rebel forces or, as the Elonsicans would put it, the 'Liberators And The Freedom Fighters Against Terrorism And Unfair Conduct Between Residents Of Elonsica And The Gredge Republic,' commonly shortened to LAFFATAUCBROEATGR, or by the more sane people, LAFFAT.

  Oh, how she hated him. Even watching him with his brand new perfectly polished trainers and obviously designer tracksuit bottoms and top filled her with a biting anger. She wanted to pull out her revolver right now and shoot off that beefy head as it bounced up and down upon that elephantine body. His pudgy pink cheeks dangled from his face as six or seven chins took turns in rising, then falling back against the layers of pink flesh. What did he have for breakfast? A horse? She wouldn't put it past him.

  Stupid Elonsican tramp.

  Or do you just step

  And not care?

  Lia sighed and ran a hand through her already untidy hair, a few wispy tendrils straggling free from the messy ponytail she had so quickly tied a few hours ago. Arthur Fallock was jogging as if he had all the time in the world, as if he owned the place. His nose was so high up in the air it would probably touch the clouds in a matter of minutes.

  Climb down

  Or else you'll fall

  Lia looked down, her eyes trained on the path beneath her. She had always hated heights, but it was part of the job. Pushing back her feeling of uncertainty and the worry of breaking her legs, Lia slowly outstretched her hand towards the branch beside her.

  Her hand met with the damp feel of soggy paper and after picking it and placing the wet front page of the broadsheet in her pocket, she braced herself for the jump.

  You'll fall

  When you're so high up

  Before jumping, she returned her gaze back to the figure on the path. He was still a marginal distance away. She had plenty of time. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the drop. One…two…Her eyes shot open as she slid down one of the branches, the wet bark pricking her back.

  Lia bit her lip, ignoring the scraping of the bark against her sweatshirt. Finally, she reached the bottom branch, which was a few meters from the ground.

  And the higher you fall

  The more it'll hurt

  Slowly she readied herself, then jumped to the ground. Her feet landed firmly on the wet path. She could feel a jolt of pain through the soles and the middle of her feet where she had landed.

  Lia pressed down her feet, massaging them into the soles of her trainers. Her dirty, second hand trainers, her only pair. Fat boy Fallock probably had about fifty, one for each day of the month, then extras. Hopefully they'd make him slip in the mud, fall flat on his back, and break his neck. That would do her job. On the other hand, if that happened, it would deprive her of the fun of hearing him squeal in pain.

  You sure you won't fall?

  Or should I trip you first?

  She quickly pulled out the broadsheet and began to brush off the stray leaves and bark, gently disengaging her hair from a twig which had placed itself amongst its depths. It would probably make him suspicious if she looked like she had just jumped out of a tree -which she had- so she had to look as leafless as possible. As for her dirty top and messy hair, there would not be anything inconspicuous about that. There were plenty of Cadlian tramps dotted around the area, therefore she wouldn't look any different.

  Lia quickly slid behind one of the trees where a large, square paper shopping bag labelled 'Boutique' was gently nestled amongst the bushes. Rummaging through the bag she pulled out a small cap. She placed it on her head, tucking in her pony tail so that only a few stray strands could be seen. She then once again slid her hands into her pocket and pulled out a grungy pair of glasses which she firmly slipped onto her eyes.

  Bringing the broadsheet before her face, she prepared to step onto the path.

  And I'll just go past you

  With that flawless mask

  The one you won't guess again

  Her ears were alert, her breathing restricted as she awaited the telltale sound of approaching footsteps. She could now hear mud squelching beneath rubber soles. She stepped out onto the crossing of the paths.

  The impact was sudden as his layers of flat collided with her slender form. Lia fell back, her bum hitting the dirty path, the impact sending harsh pains coursing through her legs.

  Upon noticing her state he hurriedly outstretched his hand and mumbled an apology as he helped her off of the ground. The broadsheet slowly tumbled to the pavement in a pool of mud.

  With that sheet of black and white

  That barrier of black and white

  He looked at her. His eyes widened. Disgust marred his features, his expression one of someone who had just stepped in a pile of dog's waste. He let go of her he hand hastily. His eyes then lingered on it for a moment before his expression changed from that of disgust to superiority.

  "Watch where you are going, Cadlian," he hissed, his voice lined with malice and a threatening undertone.

  He was avoiding looking at her face, as if looking at her would cause him to become infected somehow.

  You gonna bother

  To look at me?

  "Don't you even try and touch me again, Cadlian tramp. Or you will get what is coming to you."

  Lia could feel her face burn with anger. It wasn't as if she had willingly touched him -it was his fault for being so fat. Lia continually repeated Jude's words in her head. The mission… she had to think about the mission. She couldn't mess up. If she spoke it might mess up. She had known this would be a part of it. Anyway, Fat boy Fallock was probably leaving now. He couldn't risk being seen talking with the likes of her. It would probably be bad for his reputation.

  As if on cue, he brushed past her, his head held high as he wiped his hands on his trousers, as if they held some infectious disease.

  And do you want to step on me?

  Another smear on your shoe?

  Lia slowly retreated back into the huddle of trees, her eyes trained on his fat figure as he faded into the distance. As soon as he was merely a speck in her line of vision she slipped behind the bush in which the bag was nestled.

  Lia pulled off the grungy glasses and cap, allowing her messy ponytail to fall free behind her back. She then rummaged through the bag and pulled out a white blouse, black trousers, three inch stiletto's, and a small box containing a pair of large hoops.

  She quickly undressed herself. She had to hurry. Carmon would be waiting and if she wasn't quick enough, the plan would fall apart. Once she was dressed and had put all of the old clothes into the bag, she hurriedly let down her long, thick mass of wavy, black hair and ran her fingers through it to make it look neater.

  As soon as she was satisfied she hooked her arm through the bags' handle. She then walked out of the bushes and made her way across the path opposite her. Not the same one as Fallock, though. That would probably complicate matters. He wouldn't recognize her, though. He had probably presumed she was a boy judging by the bagginess of the last pair of clothes.

  Lia took a glimpse at her watch. Nine a.m. She had to hurry, she was getting late.

  Finally, she reached the end of the path and found herself along the side of a large road.

  A few small houses were nestled on either side. There were only a few people in the area: an old lady weeding her garden across the street, a mother dragging a push chair along the path, and a group of teens -one girl the rest boys- sitting on a wall.

  Lia strode out onto the path, her heels clicking against the pavement. The sound of wolf whistles filtered through the air. />
  "HEY, CADLIAN! I got a question." Carry on walking… "What do you get when you cross a Cadlian with a gorilla?"

  "A dumb gorilla!" screamed one of the other teens.

  The rest of the teens broke out into fits of laughter.

  Lia stopped and turned to face them. She knew she should keep moving, but she stayed rooted to the spot, her stomach clenching in anger. The old lady had slowed down with her weeding, she noticed. It was probably her daily entertainment. Even if she did care she wouldn't say anything. No one ever said anything. As for the other lady with the push chair, she was trying to get away as quickly as possible. Another one of their philosophies: don't get involved. Cowards.

  "Wait, I got another one. What can a pizza do that a Cadlian can't?"

  "Feed a family of four!"

  More laughter, then an overwhelming silence as the teens waited. Like when you're preparing to flip a coin, waiting to see what will happen next, who will win…Lia fixed them with a glare. They were waiting for her reaction. They were waiting to see if she would say anything, so that she'd say something that they could later use against her.

  It was one of Carmon's pieces of advice. He could be clever if he wanted to be. She wouldn't fall for that trap, not again, not after last time.

  Lia pivoted on her heel and was just about to walk away when the silence was broken, and the coin finally dropped.

  A soft voice broke the silence, a feminine voice.

  "What do a Cadlian and an apple have in common?"

  Lia stopped. She knew she should keep moving. She'd only regret it later on if she stayed and listened but her legs would not move.

  "What do a Cadlian and an apple have in common?" repeated one of the boys.

  The girl smirked. "Simple." Just go… "They both look good hanging from a tree."

  All was silent for a moment until one of the boys began to laugh and was slowly joined by the rest of them. Lia's face began to burn red. She could feel the eyes of the old lady on her back, waiting to see what she would do.

  You don't need words

  No, you don't need words