“In here,” I yell. “Help me.”
The door to the cell room flies open. I am bathed in candlelight. I can’t see. I squint my eyes. I try to look, but they start to water. A shadow approaches.
“Izzy,” says a man’s voice.
“Stephen,” I say, nervously.
“Izzy. Izzy,” he says rushing towards me.
“Stephen,” I cry.
I stick my arms out between the bars. He takes my hands and comes closer. We hug. I don’t care that he is soaking wet and cold. I have never felt warmer. I breathe him in. I am dumbfounded. My whole body seems to expel a rigidity I didn’t know I had been holding.
“I’m so sorry,” Stephen says. “I am so, so sorry.”
I start to cry. “It’s OK, it’s OK. I’m so happy to see you. Where’s Olly?”
“He’s fine,” he kisses my cheek. “He’s perfect.”
“Please, get me out of here.”
“Yes, yes, of course I will,” he says, he kisses my cheek again, then grips my hands.
“The keys, they are on the hook by the door, out there.” I point through the opened door.
“OK,” Stephen says, “I’ll be two seconds, I promise.”
He rushes back into the office and returns with a massive bunch of keys. They did this on purpose. I know Archie made it this way for a reason. Most of those keys probably open nothing. I hold my breath as Stephen fumbles about trying the many different keys in the cell lock. I need to get out of here. I close my eyes. I recall the key. I open my eyes.
“That one,” I say grabbing one of the keys.
Stephen glances at me,
“Just like your brother.”
I grin. I know exactly what he means. I know better than he would understand. Stephen unlocks the door and yanks it open angrily. I step out, we hug again, tight, for a long while, in silence. He steps back and takes my face in both of his hands.
“I’m so happy that you’re OK, Izzy,” he says. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”
I start to weep. I am overwhelmed. He hugs me again.
“You’re so strong.”
“I’m not,” I whimper.
“Yes you are, you have no idea. Come on we have to go now,” he says. “Archie could come back at any moment.”
He takes my hand. He looks down at me and nods.
“I will not let you go again,” he says. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“OK. Come on then.”
Hand in hand we run out of cell room and into the office. Then out of the office and into the living room. It is dark outside. It is night-time, and I am glad. I can see better in the darkness. The soldier who was guarding the living room is laying on the floorboards. He is whining and writhing about. His hands are clutching his ears. The sight of it strikes me. It is like he can hear something I cannot. Like something is in his head. He is in agony.
“He’ll be Ok,” Stephen says as if reading my mind.
What do I care? He was part of the crew that captured me, and imprisoned me, and allowed me to be raped over and over and over again. But there is a part of me that does care. He was coerced. Stephen drags me onwards, we rush towards the door. I stop dead. Oh no. I drop to my knees. I almost start crying.
“Paul, Paul,” I say shaking the collapsed heap on the floor.
Stephen grabs my arm. “We have to go now.”
“But,”
He drags me up.
“No,” I scream, involuntarily, “I have to help him.”
I fall back on to my knees, despite myself.
“Izzy,” Stephen utters, “he’s one of them,”
“I don’t care,” I scream. “Paul, Paul.” I shake him.
“Izzy, we have to go. Now,” Stephen shouts. “Archie will be coming back.”
I stare up at him. What is wrong with me? I know I need to go.
“But.” I start to cry.
“He’ll be fine,” he says kindly, offering me his hand.
I take it, he pulls me to my feet. I stare at Paul writhing about on the floor. He is suffering. I feel his pain. I cry. I am torn.
“But,” I repeat.
The living room door suddenly flies open. It’s Archie, he is wearing a strange smirk. He is almost triumphant. Why? Stephen steps towards him and punches him in the face. Archie barely notices it. He wipes away the blood from the corner of his mouth.
“What have you done you arsehole,” Stephen yells.
“What is needed, what is required,” Archie says calmly, almost laughing. “You know.”
I fall on to my knees next to Paul, I rub his back, “please be alright, please, please.” I kiss the back of his head.
Stephen glances at me and shakes his head. He steps towards Archie again and punches him in the stomach. Archie lurches forwards, clutches his stomach, and starts laughing.
“You always were good in a fist fight. You should join me. You need to join me. All three of you.”
“Fuck off.”
Archie stands up straight. Arms down by his sides, hands in fists. He shakes himself down.
“Join me,” he warns.
“Never,” Stephen shouts, spit flying out of his mouth.
A piece lands on Archie. Archie’s face changes. The humour is completely washed off. He seems to grow taller. He breathes heavily. He has become more evil and darker. The candles burn brighter. They flicker. The flames are being sucked in towards him as if he is a black hole. He seems to grow even more in stature, like he is a beast, transforming before our eyes. He steps towards Stephen.
“You never learn, do you?”
Everything is deadly still for a moment. Then Archie swings. His fist connects with Stephen’s face. I cringe. Stephen is thrown into the air and flies sideways. He falls and hits the floor. He clutches his face. He shakes his head. He struggles to get up. He falls back down. I shake. I clutch my face as if I feel it too. I do feel it too. Archie looks upwards and laughs. He lifts his arms like he is performing some kind of ritual. The room is echoing his voice, multiplying it. The rain increases. Lightning strikes, illuminating the room. Thunder reverberates. It echoes into my soul. I shiver. Paul begins writhing even more. He clutches his head. He and the other soldier begin screaming.
“Run, Izzy, now” Stephen shouts at me.
I can’t move. I am frozen in place. I look down at myself. I realise that I am holding Paul’s hand. I am squeezing it. What am I doing? Why am I doing this?
Archie marches towards Stephen’s crumpled figure on the floor. His footsteps are heavy. Haunting. Lightning goes off again. Stephen is trying to get up, he is coughing. Archie pounces on him. He grabs Stephen by the throat and lifts him up and onto his feet. Why is Archie so strong? He lifts Stephen higher. Stephen is hanging by his neck.
“Run,” Stephen squeaks at me through his compressed throat.
Archie pushes Stephen up against the wall. Stephen is thrashing about. His eyes close. His body seems to flop motionless.
“Stephen!” I yell.
His eyes spring open. He starts punching Archie in the side over and over and over. He gets a shot right in the ribcage. Archie drops him, steps back, and starts to cough. Stephen lifts a chair and whacks it over Archie’s back. Archie stumbles forwards and on to his knees. Stephen steps back and pulls a gun from his belt. Archie lifts his hand up towards Stephen. The candles flicker. The shadows grow. I can’t see properly. The gun is somehow knocked out of Stephens’s hand. It flies away and smacks on to the floor. It skids towards me. But Archie was nowhere near him. How the Hell did that happen? I stare, open-mouthed. I am cold inside. Lightning goes off again followed by a massive thunderclap. Archie jumps up and wrestles Stephen to the floor. He is on top of him punching him over and over.
“Run, Izzy, run,” Stephen cries out to me.
Archie looks mad, insane. I look at Paul. I kiss him on the head. I don’t want to leave him, but Stephen. I wobble and force myself to stand up. I step towards the g
un. I bend down and pick it up. I am shaking, with fear, with anger. All my hatred for the man oozes out of me. I grow strong. I am calm. I aim. I breathe. I close my eyes. I connect. I feel the clarity grow within me. I feel the motion as if it is a part of me. Everything goes silent, time stands still. My eyes spring open. I pull the trigger and shoot. The bullet flies into Archie. I drop the gun. There is blood cascading out of his side. He puts his hand to his wound and looks at the blood on his hand. Stephen punches him in the jaw. He falls to the floor. Stephen jumps up. He runs towards me, grabs the gun off the floor, and takes my hand.
“Run,” he shouts.
I glance at Paul writhing about on the floor. I don’t want to leave him, but this time I listen. I take Stephen’s hand, we run out into the night.
thirty-three
The rain has stopped. The sky is clear. The starlight is as bright as day to me. We run down the steps and through the farmyard out into the encampment. Every single person is on the ground. They are all clutching their ears and writhing about, screaming and moaning.
“What’s happening?” I mutter.
“They’ll be OK,” Stephen says.
We rush down the central gangway between the tents, jumping over the writhing bodies, ignoring their pain, their agony. I wonder how many of them know what is going on. I wonder how many of them knew what was happening to me. Some of them are probably completely oblivious. Who are they to argue with the person who gave them refuge? If I were them, where would I have gone? They are safe here. This is not their fault. I pity them and their pain. But all I want is to escape. I see Olly. His eyes have a look of fire and intensity about them. They look abnormal. They are twinkling in the starlight as if they are shining. He is not Olly, he is more than Olly. I see it in him, he has conjured up something from the darkness, a power unknown to us before. It is deeper, more intrinsic. It is something we had forgotten about, something I was beginning to understand and manipulate in the cell. I stop running. I stare at him. I am captivated.
“What the Hell?” I mutter, gobsmacked, out of breath.
My legs are so weak, they buckle, I fall to my knees in the wet mud. For a single moment, fear consumes me, cold crushing fear. A million thoughts rush through me. What will happen? What is he becoming? It fades as quickly as it rose. He is Olly. My Olly.
“There is so much to explain,” Stephen says. “You have no idea.”
But I do have an idea. I know something more. I have not been lying to myself in the cell. I am more aware than ever. At that moment Olly sees me. He blinks and becomes my Olly again.
“Izzy,” he cries and rushes towards me.
The people at the camp seem to be waking up. I hear them shouting to each other. I look across the fields and see them stand up and brush themselves down.
“That way,” one of them yells.
I hug Olly. He is bigger than I remember. I feel it straight away.
“How long have I been gone?”
“Months,” Stephen says. “A long time. I’m so sorry. There’s no time to explain. We have to go, come on.”
We run through the trees and out on to another field on the other side. I can barely run anymore, my legs are so weak. I am like an Orca who has been trapped all its life inside a tiny pool and now has a bent dorsal fin. I am used to walking in circles, getting nowhere, growing dizzy. The people chasing us grow closer at every step. Gunshots burst out and into the wet night air. I turn and see the soldiers emerging from the tree line. They are catching us. My heart freezes. I try to speed up.
“Stop,” they scream.
I am too slow, my legs are fatigued. I have not walked anywhere for months. I stumble and fall face first into the mud. A gunshot whistles out into the night. They are shooting upwards, they do not want to shoot at us, at me, I realise, they need me alive. Stephen grabs me and puts me over his shoulder. The shouting grows closer still.
“Stop,” they call with ever-growing fury and anger. “Now.”
The squelching footsteps grow louder and louder in my ears. Every sense is heightened. Another gunshot erupts into the night air. It is so loud. So startling. They are right behind us.
“Stop.”
We stop.
“Put her down.”
Stephen puts me down. We turn and face them. There are about ten of them. They all have guns in their hands.
“What did you do to us?” One of them shouts.
We say nothing. The rain begins again. It grows harder and harder. There is lightning. The sky is on fire. Their faces burst into my vision in short ruptures. The men and women shiver. They step from side to side to keep warm.
“Leave us alone and nothing bad will happen to you,” Stephen warns.
They laugh, nervously. The lead man aims at Stephen.
“What are you going to do,” the man sniggers.
Stephen sighs, loudly, sarcastically. The gun goes off in the man’s hand. I scream. Olly screams, but it is no normal scream it is that same scream that he roared back when we were running away in the snow, away from the sick, away from the square and the cremation site. There is suddenly complete silence, as Olly stops screaming. The bullet seems to freeze in the air. Lightning reflects off of it. We all stare at it. It seems to twist slowly at first, then it turns around completely. Time has stopped. Movements are happening in slow motion. The world is distorted. The bullet is repelled backwards and flies into the soldier, the man who shot at Stephen. They all scream. Thunder rips into the night. He collapses on to his knees clutching his bleeding shoulder.
“How did you,” he stares dumbfounded at Olly, we all do.
Olly’s eyes are shining, they are a warning. Olly starts to roar that same roar. The soldiers fall to their knees and clutch their heads as if something is in them. Stephen grabs my hand, we turn and run, out and onto a road, to where a car is parked. We jump in. Archie’s followers emerge out of the bushes and stampede on to the road in front of us. They are staring at us, at Olly. They are in awe, in fear, in reverie, no one really understands, not least me. The man clutching his shoulder has a look about him, like he recognizes something, a memory kindled, a realisation. They all stand and watch us drive away without trying to stop us. They know the world has changed. Things are going to get much more interesting from here on out. I turn from the front seat and watch them in the starlight as they grow smaller and smaller on the road behind us. They stand perfectly still, arms hanging by their sides, their mouths ajar. Olly and I both watch them until we turn a corner and can see them no more. Olly grins, then nestles into his seat. He does up his seat belt. Does he have any idea the magnitude of what he has just done? I wonder.
“I love you lil man,” I say, slightly worried, slightly in awe.
I know how those people feel. I feel it too. I watch as Olly’s eyes grow heavy. He falls asleep. I turn back and relax, staring ahead on the starlit road.
“Amazing isn’t he!” Stephen says excitedly.
I just nod. He is, he is more than I ever thought possible. I can’t even begin to find the right words to express what is going through my mind right now. It is whirring away like there are a million electrical wires firing away inside me and all around me, like I am a living bird’s nest and every twig is hot with energy. I am confused. I think of his eyes, of the people lying there, writhing about, and the bullet. He stopped it in mid-flight. Is that even possible? Did that even happen? Am I dreaming in my cage? Have I finally lost it completely? Is this the world I created to save me, to save my mind? Would that matter? What is reality anyway as long as I think it is real? What is going to happen? My brain is hurting from thinking so much. My legs are aching from running.
thirty-four
The first rays of light emerging over the horizon begin burning into my retinas. I cover my eyes with my hand and pull down the visor. It doesn’t help.
“Here you might need these,” Stephen says grabbing a pair of sunglasses out of the glove compartment. I stare at him as I take them out of his
hand.
“How did you know?”
He turns and looks at Olly who is sound asleep in the back seat, “your brother, he is quite the little miracle!”
“Yes, he is,” I say whimsically, thoughtfully, falling into a lost thought.
I relax back into the seat.
“He cleared the roads for us too, you know. He has found so much power, wait until you see what else he can do…”
His voice fades into the background. I already know what Olly can do, and I am looking forward to seeing it, but right now, all I want to do is enjoy the sights. For so long, all I’ve been able to see is dark, dank and dreary walls in dim candlelight. I can’t quite believe I am free. A tear rolls down my cheek. It is so beautiful out here. I never really appreciated it before.
The next thing I know I wake up rocking back and forth as the car bounces down a bumpy road, I must have fallen asleep, Olly is laughing his head off. He is bobbing up and down clapping. My eyes adjust under the sunglasses. I can just about see that we are driving down a gravelly road somewhere in the countryside. Soon we are entirely surrounded by trees and bushes and shadows.
“Where are we?”
“We’re almost home, you’ll see,” Stephen says.
The road becomes narrower and narrower. Branches start scraping along the sides of the car, making ghostly sounds. We are driving blindly. The branches almost touch across the path ahead of us.
“Nearly there,” Stephen says.
He slows and turns down an even more overgrown road. We keep on going and going. The trail becomes even more winding and narrow until it finally opens up. We pull up in front of an old cottage with white painted walls. It looks really old, ancient in fact. The windows and front door are smaller than modern homes. It seems like this was made for the Hobbits in the Shire.
“Olly led us straight here. It’s totally secluded. It’s perfect. You’ll see.”
“But… but this isn’t the farm?” I stutter.
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