Lucy at War

by Mary E. Twomey

  That’s my girl, Jamie growled with the same determined expression. Jamie leaned against me in my mind, in our respective cells. I sagged toward where I pictured him to be. We seethed in the dark for hours, waiting out our inevitable demise in silence.

  Three.

  Defiance

  The next day was the same. I had less strength with which to push my tray away, but when it slid out of reach, my anger at my invisible captors was renewed, even though it was with less energy to defy them.

  I expected the rat noises that had kept us up and paranoid most of the night to increase in volume. What I did not expect was for them to cease altogether. The silence was a sigh of relief I wouldn’t let them see I needed.

  When a woman’s voice cooed over the sound system, I cowered from the intrusive noise. “You should eat, children. You’ll need your strength.”

  I wanted to answer back with the worst kind of bar swearing, but my collar had me trained to shut my mouth. Instead I gave her my favorite finger. The cuffs dug into my skin, cutting my bony wrists even through the gloves, so that every movement of my arms was a little bit painful.

  It was worth it.

  I sat on my knees as long as I could before that position grew too painful, and then shifted to sit on my butt, leaning back on my pained hands. Jamie did the same, nudging me with his shoulder in our bond. Though we were far away, we clung to the connection we’d both resented so many times.

  No sooner had we shifted did our chains begin to clang on their own. They were attached to the floor, that much was obvious, but what was news to me was that the tether could be tightened or loosened by the powers that be. My little gesture of defiance earned us no slack at all. Our hands were sucked to the cold floor as the chain was fed through whatever reeled it in beneath the icy floor of the cell.

  Jamie fought against the restraints, ripping our tender scrapes open, so blood seeped beneath the material of my gloves.

  Stop! Stop, Jamie! I’m bleeding!

  Jamie stilled with a defeated internal bleat of doom. It won’t be long now. Another couple days or so, and we’ll pass on from this.

  My throat was parched, and I was running out of spit. My lips were dry and cracked, and I could only guess at the sad state the rest of me was in. We couldn’t reach the toilet bucket, but that hardly mattered anymore.

  Four.

  My Inevitable Demise

  I had fallen into a fitful sleep that was only made worse by a nails on the chalkboard screeching. It played intermittently throughout our yanks from consciousness into passing out, and then back again. I could barely lift my head from my supine position when the door cracked open again and the tray was slid toward my foot. It smelled so heavenly, I instantly wondered if I was dreaming. It was beefy lasagna, the good and melty kind with what smelled like the right amount of too much cheese. My olfactory sense betrayed my resolve, and I made every effort to sit up to claw my way to the food, if only that were possible.

  A clanking sounded, and suddenly too much slack was next to my hands. I slowly felt the chain and measured far more tether than we’d ever been granted.

  No, Lucy! Stop! It’s a trap! They’ll cut me off from you, and it’ll just be one more day they win! Don’t touch the food!

  I didn’t want to go back on the plan, but I was less than half a human at this point, crazed from hunger and isolation. Every inch I earned toward my goal was an effort I didn’t have in me to make. I crawled almost a foot before I collapsed, a besotted mess of crusted-over wounds, exhaustion and defeat. While I was certain I could reach the food with the additional tether they’d given me, my body rebelled against any effort. My heart still had a beat that I could feel, but it was the only thing I could feel, which wasn’t a good sign. I was cold from the inside out, and the slowed and unsteady rhythm of my heart told me I didn’t have much longer to wait out my inevitable demise.

  It was then they did the cruelest thing I could think of. The cell went silent, and the chalkboard scratching noise was replaced with the sweetest voice I could’ve heard in that moment.

  “Loos? I’ll be home soon. Don’t worry about a thing.” It was Jens. My Jens.

  Then came a shock through my collar. I didn’t yelp, but my mouth opened in agony.

  Did you speak? I asked, though I hadn’t heard Jamie say anything. Stop making noise, if you are!

  I’m not! I’m silent. Completely silent. Stay calm.

  Jens’s sweet voice sounded again. “I picked up the stuff to make dinner. That’s right, baby, we’re pretending we know how to cook tonight. How do you feel about crepes?” Then he switched to a cartoonish French accent. “We could be French for the night. We should start with the French kissing. The crepes can wait.”

  Another shock jolted me, gritting my teeth without my permission. My jaw ached, and I could feel a ringing in my molars. I screamed in my mind, matching Jamie’s inner noise of surprise and pain.

  “I think we should take a trip to Paris. I’ve never been, and I want to see how our crepes match up to the real thing.”

  Another shock knocked me down so I was spread out on my stomach. I pictured Jens’s face, but after three more playbacks of his voice followed by shocks, I couldn’t see him without feeling the hesitance of fear his face was now associated with.

  Part of me knew it was a recording they’d kifed from my voicemail to urge me onward toward living and enduring more of their psychological torture, but the less rational part of me rallied at the sound of my boyfriend’s voice. I wanted out. They would not ruin my memories of Jens. I would find them – whoever they were – and tear them apart. For that, I needed sustenance.

  With shaking fingers, I tried to support my dwindled weight and pull myself forward towards the food, but try as I might, I couldn’t move myself. Jamie screamed his tired warning in my head to stop me, but it was an unnecessary effort. I was going to die; that choice had been made, and there was no going back.

  I love you, Jens, I thought to the universe before my head rested on the concrete. It was as good a place as any to breathe my last. At least Jens hadn’t had to watch my ending. When it came down the grit of it, he’d been with me, keeping me sane all the way up until the last when they tried to shock his comfort out of me. Jens was a good man, and I hoped he’d find peace without Jamie and me around to center his brash tendencies.

  I closed my eyes, feeling Jamie lie down beside me in my mind, weakened and worn. He placed his hand atop mine so we wouldn’t be alone as we died. He had more bulk to lose, so his body kept me just barely alive, but my meager weight pulled him down further. We were huddled together until I drifted off into a land where I couldn’t control my imagination anymore. I couldn’t control anything.

  Five.

  The Kindness of Strangers

  Water poured over my face and splashed into my mouth. I swallowed reflexively, but the effort cost me great pains to get that mouthful down. I shuddered at the splash into my empty stomach. A warm body held me, and without making the conscious choice, I burrowed into the heat, convulsing as I was reminded of how freezing my skin was in comparison.

  “That’s good. Keep drinking. Little sips, or it’ll come right back up.” The voice was a man’s, but I’d never heard it before.

  I was soaking wet and ice cold, so when I shivered, it racked my body so hard, my ribs ached from the violent spasms. The low male voice instructing me was patient and sincere, so the emaciated and highly suggestible girl I was when on the brink of death wanted to trust him.

  The Jamie inside of me was shouting, No! No, Lucy! They’ll sever the bond again! Spit it out! We were so close!

  We had been close. Close to death. In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure how alive I actually was. I couldn’t see anything, but I was certain I didn’t know the man that held my limp form in one burly arm that had coarse hair I could feel through my wet scrubs. His other hand fed me small portions of water.

  “Get me a blanket in here!” he shouted, his tone turnin
g sharp like a militaristic command. After a brief pause, he barked, “I don’t care what your reasons are. I don’t care about your plan! You’ll kill her before it works!” Another pause, and then he seethed, “You had your turn, and now you’re done. This whole experiment failed. You failed. Look what you’ve done to her!” I guessed he was talking into an earpiece or Bluetooth or something, because I couldn’t hear the person on the other end.

  The man who held me sounded genuinely concerned, so I knew it had to be a trap. I used what little strength I had (“strength”. What a joke) to squirm away from him. It didn’t actually work, but the message was clear. “Now, now. I won’t hurt you. I shouldn’t have let them carry on without my supervision. I thought they understood the goal, but I was wrong. I’m sorry, sweet girl. I won’t hurt you.”

  The man spoke so softly; every word was like a massage to my deadened muscles and broken heart.

  No, Lucy! It’s a trap! Don’t believe a word he says! He’s with them!

  I could still hear Jamie, though I’d drank a fair amount of water, so I gathered at least the water was safe and wouldn’t take Jamie away from me. Once my throat got used to the motion of swallowing, I leaned my chin toward the cup, begging silently for more.

  “That’s a good girl,” he cooed, talking to me as if I was a cherished pet instead of an adult with a little dignity. In all actuality, I really had no pride left to hold onto, but he could’ve at least pretended in an effort to be nice.

  He kissed my oily forehead, and I nearly sobbed aloud at the humanizing contact. I didn’t made a sound, though, as I was afraid of triggering my collar and sending a shock through my body that would certainly kill me. “It’s okay. I’ll make sure this ends.” Then to his earpiece, he barked, “Where’s that blanket?” He was alternately kind and harsh, which jerked my emotions around as to whether I could allow myself to feel safe with him.

  Think about it, Lucy! Of course they’d send a big, gentle man of authority to coerce you into whatever it is they want you to do. You’ll notice they didn’t send you a woman. It’s part of the game! They want you to trust him. Hold strong, syster!

  Jamie had so much more clarity than I did. I marveled at his strength of purpose. I was amazed by his tenacity to defy the powers that be.

  I was amazed, and then I was unconscious, passed right the smack out in the cell. The man’s pleas for me to wake up drifted in and out like waves on a beach.

  Six.

  Six

  I awoke to the same cell I was certain I would die in any time now. My eyes opened to the darkness, but something odd hit me. The air wasn’t the bone-chilling cold it had been, but was an almost pleasantly warm temperature. I tried to sit up, but my body was too weak to commit to the effort, so I simply remained supine on the… blanket? The empty cell had grown a blanket since I’d last greeted it. The thick comforter underneath me offered a cradling to my aching bones, easing the joint pain that came with starvation and dehydration.

  I moved my left arm and felt the brush of a second blanket draped atop me. I also felt the bliss of nothing. The irons were gone, and I could move. Theoretically, at least. I was too wasted away to actually put my muscles to use, but the tease of freedom rallied me enough to be able to open my eyes and actually focus on my surroundings. The illumination, I realized, came from me. My arms had been uncovered. The stars glistened in the dark, giving just enough light to scare me into shutting my eyes. It was more comfortable to revert back to the stark nothingness I’d grown conditioned to. It took a few more seconds of psyching myself up before I tried opening my eyes again. I could make out a vague shape, whereas there had only been a black abyss for months. As my eyes put themselves to use, I realized the shape was a man that was certainly not Jamie.

  My intake of breath alerted the stranger that I was awake and aware enough to know I wasn’t alone. I tried to retreat from his advance, but I couldn’t get my body to cooperate. He raised his hands in surrender and slowed them, but I panicked all the same, clawing futilely at the blanket.

  “It’s alright, Lucinda. I won’t hurt you. Calm down.”

  No one called me by my actual name. The last time I’d been full-named was when I’d done Linus’s take-home English Lit exam in high school and turned it in as his when he was in the hospital. My mom was not pleased. My dad kinda was, but he never admitted to it. But this guy didn’t know me, and I certainly didn’t know him. When he reached for me, my mouth opened in a silent scream.

  “Shh. It’s okay. I told you no one would hurt you anymore. I’m a man of my word.” His arm went around my back and lifted me to sitting, cradling me against him again. The comfort was there, but so was the fear. It didn’t matter, though, because I couldn’t fight against him. He gathered the blankets up with me and lifted me up off the ground like a limp noodle, making his way to the door. It opened so easily for him. The steel barrier I’d been willing for months to budge to no avail popped open with a nudge from his knee.

  The light hit me like the blinding sun, though I knew it was just a single bulb my eyes warred with. I bucked lamely in his arms, turning my face into his chest to block out the light.

  “Oh, my mistake. I’m sorry.” He brought the top blanket up over my head, and I relaxed, floating wherever he decided to take me. “Is that better?” I nodded in response, and he gave me a gentle squeeze. “It’ll take time to adjust.”

  He greeted a few passersby, one who asked curiously what he had in the blankets. “It’s the girl,” he answered, as if my gender identified all that I was.

  His brief reply earned a few gasps, a couple hisses and one “Get that thing out of here!”

  He clutched me closer, as if to shield me from the insult. I had to remind myself that I was a prisoner, and he was part of that system, no matter how nice he was being in this particular moment.

  I was carried to an unlit bedroom with no windows and laid atop the mattress. The luxury felt heavenly until the stranger sat on the side of the bed, reminding me that I was alone with a man and had no way to defend myself. My breathing grew shallow as flashes of the Nøkkendalig rammed themselves into my brain. Before I knew it, I was hyperventilating, my aching ribs protesting the workout I gave them with my fear.

  His arms were back around me, sitting me up and making a show of breathing slowly as he took in my face. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid. No one’s going to hurt you here. I’ll turn on the lights once your eyes can handle them.”

  The blanket fell from my face, revealing a dark bedroom with the door opened just enough to allow the most light I could handle to filter in and give shape to the objects surrounding me. I winced from the light, but was able to squint with some success after a few tries.

  Wooden nightstand built into the wooden wall. Lush comforter on a modern bed with no footboard that was also built to jut out from the wall. A chair in the corner pushed up to a desk that was attached to the wall. The room was a space-efficient cube with no clutter whatsoever.

  Most jarring of all was the face that spoke to me. I didn’t know his brown eyes, tightly pressed lips or thick black hair with gray at the temples, but I understood compassion when it was staring me in the face. His angular jawline and high cheekbones were set in determination that I would understand his role in all of this was one of safety, not aggression. I took a leap and trusted him for the time being. It wasn’t as if I had much of a choice anyway. He’d gotten me out of the cell, so that was a point in his favor.

  I leaned forward into his shoulder, and he melted into me, rubbing my back and holding me upright in his arms. “That’s the way. One step at a time.” I silently sobbed into his… uniform? He was wearing something like a cross between one of those harsh button-downs police officers wore and a t-shirt. I couldn’t figure it out by touch alone. His voice was kind. “You’re a tough one. I can’t believe you lasted as long as you did. I can’t believe they took it as far as they did, and they still lost.” He touched his ear and spoke to whoever w
as on the other end of his little earbud intercom. “The female needs something to eat. Bring her up some bread and beans.”

  His words didn’t explain as much as I needed, but it mattered little; I was so distraught. Once I had my wits about me, I would demand names and vengeance. For now, he offered comfort, so I took it.

  He stroked my spine and spoke to me in a soothing lull that chased away a small amount of panic. “Food’s on its way. Real food, and not the gruel you’ve been barely surviving on. You shouldn’t be mad at them; they were trying to help.”

  I didn’t speak, for fear the only thing that would birth from my mouth would be a voracious growl that would send more lightning through me via my collar. I shifted my neck and realized with astonishment that my stiff collar was gone! It took a bit of effort, but eventually my hands verified that my neck was bare. Though I had no desire or ability to speak, just knowing a punishment wasn’t awaiting me alleviated my anxiety by a noticeable degree. When the food came up a few minutes later, my shoulders were almost ready to relinquish their death grip on me.

  My stomach nearly exploded out of my body to get at the food, but my arms were still slow to cooperate. The guy holding me tore off fingerfuls of the warm bread and fed them to me, his thumb stroking my cheek every now and then as I chewed. He fed me slowly so my body didn’t reject the foreign element it needed, but still feared. The starving amoebas in my belly jumped like a mosh pit inside of me, gobbling up and savoring each bite I could choke down. He alternated every three bites of bread with a sip of water, balancing the nurturing with great care.

  When the bread was gone, I cried soundlessly into his shirt, daring to trust in the hope that came with his kindness. I couldn’t hear Jamie, so I knew the food was tainted, but I was beyond caring at that point. I yearned for my friend, my one touchstone in the sea of never-ending crazy. They’d stolen my moxie, and in turn, robbed me of myself. I sobbed tearless cries of the agony I was sure would never leave me. The darkness would be my one faithful friend, the isolation a fixed weight on my innards.