by Alex Siegel
She took a moment to recover her strength. A fresh wave of pain washed through her body, and it was so severe, she almost cried out. The burning sensation was everywhere now.
Lord, please, give me a break! she thought. It feels like You're killing me.
Stop whining, God replied. You wanted real magic. It comes at a price.
Sheryl tried to shrug off the pain and focus on the task at hand. Light was leaking in through a crack around the door, and it was barely enough for her to see. She was in an office supply closet. Shelves held pencils, pens, and notepads.
The sirens were still wailing, so she couldn't hear if anybody was outside the door. She had to risk a peek. She pulled the door open half an inch and looked out.
She saw the hallway, and several soldiers were there. The commander was standing with his men. He was clutching his chest and huddled over in obvious pain. Sheryl's gunshots hadn't killed him, but they had certainly hurt him. I hope I broke a rib, she thought.
Another office was directly across from her. She waited until the soldiers were looking the other way. Without making a sound, she stepped across the hallway and entered the other office. Her heart was pounding in her chest from fear.
This room had a window. She rushed over and looked out through the frost-covered glass. Two layers of fencing protected the building, one fence inside the other. Each fence was inconveniently tall and topped with barbed wire. The ground in between was flat, open, and brightly lit. There was no way to cross without being seen.
Guards with dogs moved in a continuous patrol pattern inside the fence. The men wore heavy winter gear which left only their eyes exposed. They carried full-sized assault rifles. Sheryl felt sorry for the dogs who only had fur.
A field of moonlit snow lay beyond the fences. If she got that far, she wouldn't have much cover to aid her escape, and she would leave tracks in the snow. The mercenaries would hunt her down like an animal.
She could try to steal a car and bust through the gate, but then they would chase her in their own cars. The roads around here were narrow, icy, and dark, and she wasn't the greatest driver. She would end up in a ditch or smashed against a tree.
Her best chance of survival lay in making contact with Aaron. He would tell her what to do. With his helicopter, he could get here fast and save her.
Sheryl saw a phone on a desk. She ran over and grabbed the handset, but the line was dead. They think of everything around here.
She sighed in frustration. She needed to find a phone that worked without getting killed.
A new rush of pain hammered her. It seemed to be migrating towards her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and tears leaked out. After a long moment, the pain subsided a little, and she was able to breathe again.
She noticed a low access panel on a wall. It was almost invisible in the darkness. She went over and slid the panel out of the way. There was a vertical shaft behind it. The shaft was full of copper and iron pipes, but there was just enough room for her to squeeze in.
It was pitch black inside the shaft. She felt her way down, using pipe fittings as hand and foot holds. She pressed her back against the wall to keep from sliding too fast. Some of the pipes were hot to the touch. Everything was covered in sticky grime. She was perspiring freely under her thick body armor and wanted a glass of cool water.
She finally dropped into a room. Flames from furnaces provided flickering blue light. Giant blowers whooshed and rattled. It was hot in here.
She took a step and banged her knee against something hard. I need some light, she thought. She felt along the wall until she found a light switch, and she turned it on.
It was indeed a furnace room. Gas pipes, water pipes, and huge air ducts formed a baffling, three-dimensional maze. Three giant furnaces were running at full blast as they attempted to keep the factory warm in the dead of winter. A water heater was big enough to serve an entire apartment building.
She noticed a white, plastic device attached to the wall above the door. It was a motion sensor, and the tiny red light was blinking.
"Fuck me," Sheryl muttered.
She would have company any second. She looked around to see if there was anything she could use. Aaron had trained her to always use her environment to her advantage.
A big valve was labeled, "EMERGENCY STEAM RELEASE." That seemed useful. She also spotted a ladder. She could use it to climb up into the pipes that crisscrossed the ceiling. A small, cardboard box full of bolts was the last piece of the puzzle.
She smiled and thought, It's too bad Aaron can't see me now.
She opened the valve first. It took every bit of her strength to turn the rusty piece of junk, but she was motivated. Finally, a jet of searing hot steam was blasting out of a nozzle. Mist began to fill the room.
Sheryl grabbed the box of bolts. She placed the ladder against the wall next to the door and climbed up to the top step. She walked onto a big pipe that ran over the door and crouched down.
There was so much hot mist in the air, it was already hard to see. The door banged open. Several men poured into the room, but she only saw big, green blobs moving quickly. The soldiers yelled orders to each other as they spread out and searched for her.
She began to toss bolts across the room. The banging noises got the attention of the soldiers, and they converged in that direction. She managed to hit one in the back. There was a burst of gunfire, followed by a moan from somebody else. She nodded with satisfaction.
Sheryl dropped silently to the floor behind the men. She still had a gun, but it was a less than ideal weapon under these conditions. It made too much noise. She really needed a nice, big, quiet knife.
She came up behind one of the men. Dense, hot mist had reduced visibility to only a couple of feet. The soldier had a combat knife strapped to his calf. Perfect, she thought. He also had two fragmentation grenades on his belt.
Sheryl grabbed the knife with her right hand and pulled the pin on a grenade with her left.
"I felt something!" the soldier yelled. "She's in here!"
She stayed low and moved fast as she exited the room. On the way out, she closed the door.
The grenade explosion rattled the walls and made her grin. She was starting to feel like a real warrior.
A lightning bolt of pain made her body clench. It felt like her upper chest and head were being dipped in molten lava. Her eyes blurred, and all she could do was gasp helplessly. I can't fight if You keep hurting me, she thought.
You can, God replied, and you will.
Sheryl recovered her composure and pushed on. The Lord was right.
She was in a machine shop. Drill presses, grinders, lathes, and work benches lined the walls. The dusty floor was made of concrete.
She spotted a surveillance camera in the corner, and it was aimed right at her. She rolled her eyes in frustration.
The room had a door, but if she left that way, she would probably run into more soldiers. She wouldn't survive a straight-up gun battle, and she certainly couldn't surrender. She needed another way out.
The shop had windows. She ran over and climbed onto a workbench. She grabbed the handle on a window, but it refused to budge. It felt frozen. She snatched a wrench from a shelf and pounded the handle until it broke free. Finally, she shoved the window open.
A blast of freezing air hit her hot, sweaty face. She shivered.
The sound of approaching footsteps got her moving. She slipped out the window and pushed it closed from the outside.
It's friggin' cold out here, Sheryl thought. Patches of ice and snow covered rock hard, frozen dirt.
She ran along the outer wall of the building using what shadows she could find for cover. The soldiers had taken away her white cloak, and the black and gray armor underneath stood out like a sore thumb against a white backdrop. She hated all the bright lights.
She couldn't stay outside for long. The guards on patrol or their dogs would spot her soon. Her soft footsteps sounded loud to her ears as she desperately
searched for a way back into the building.
She saw a fire escape that would take her to a second-story window. She ran over at a full sprint, jumped onto the fire escape, and began to climb. She quickly reached the window and peeked inside.
It looked like a chemical laboratory. Scientists were working with beakers, test tubes, and high-tech equipment. They wore full biohazard suits. Interesting.
Sheryl didn't see any way to open the window without being noticed. She looked around for another direction to go. The edge of the roof was above her head, and it offered a tantalizing possibility.
She climbed onto the icy railing of the fire escape. Her heart skipped a beat when she looked down. A fall from this height might not kill her, but it would certainly knock her out of commission. She jumped, grabbed the roof, and pulled herself up. The slippery, metal surface was so cold, it felt like it was burning her bare fingers.
The roof of the factory had only a slight slope, and there was surprisingly little ice and snow. Perhaps the warmth from underneath was melting it off.
She heard boots clanging against metal. Soldiers were coming up the fire escape after her. They would have difficulty getting onto the roof though, which meant she had a minute to formulate a plan.
She spotted a hatch door lying flat on the roof. That was the obvious way back inside, and she ran there first. She pulled up the door and let it fall open with a clang. She saw light through the opening, and warm air caressed her face.
The enemy would assume she had gone below through the door. She looked around for a sneaky alternative escape.
A fresh surge of pain made her drop to her hands and knees. It was contained inside her head now. It felt like God was tearing her skull apart with flaming crowbars. Despite her best efforts to remain quiet, she moaned. The world wavered in front of her eyes, and she saw double images of everything.
When will You stop hurting me? Sheryl thought.
Almost done.
Done with what?
The Lord didn't answer.
She spotted a wide, brick smokestack, and there was no smoke coming out of the top. It was more than big enough to climb inside.
She scrambled across the roof and almost slipped on the ice in her haste. There wasn't a lot of ice, but it was as smooth and clear as glass. Moonlight reflected from the surface.
A ladder led to the top of the smokestack. She was about to start climbing when she saw a soldier reach the roof from the fire escape. She hid behind the smokestack instead.
The soldier helped three of his comrades get up onto the roof. They drew pistols and looked around. One spotted the open hatch. He pointed, and the whole group ran over to the hatch. They began to climb down into the building.
Sheryl nodded with satisfaction. It had been a simple deception, but the best tricks were always the simplest.
The worst pain yet made her collapse, and it was focused on her eyeballs now. She imagined they were being pulled out with hot pincers.
At that moment, she felt the Presence. She saw herself as a tiny flyspeck in a vast universe, but she was still important. God loved her because she was unique and alive. Time would pass until the stars and planets were gone, but there would never be another Sheryl like her.
Then it ended. The Presence left, and she suddenly felt very lonely and tired.
She was also different, but she couldn't describe how. Something important had changed inside her.
Sheryl had made some noise when she had collapsed. She peeked around the smokestack and saw one of the soldiers looking in her direction. The other three had already gone down. With his pistol in hand, he came towards the smokestack.
She still had her gun, but shooting him would make a lot of noise and bring the other soldiers back up. She had to deal with him silently. Her knife was a better option, but her knife-fighting skills weren't very polished. She didn't like her chances against a professional soldier who was much bigger and stronger than her.
She looked around to see if she could hide. The vast roof offered little cover, and the only quick way off was to jump. It seemed she would have to fight.
I need a distraction, she thought, so I can get behind him and slash his throat. Aaron had instructed her in proper throat slashing technique.
Sheryl patted herself down but found nothing of use. She had a gun, a knife, and that was all.
She remembered her days as a stage magician. She had used a great number of techniques to create compelling distractions. Pyrotechnics were the flashiest, but bright colors and glittering mirrors could do the job just as well. Even just a plain mirror in the right spot could work wonders.
I could use a mirror now.
Suddenly, she was looking at her own reflection. She saw her own bruised and swollen face. Her lower lip was cracked and bleeding. Factory grime covered her entire body down to her toes. Her hair was a tangled, filthy mess.
The pupils of her eyes had become tiny mirrors. The effect was beautiful but disturbing. She was officially an inhuman monster now.
The mirror was floating in the air. It had no frame or means of support. It seemed to be just a flat plane in space that reflected light perfectly. She moved around and could see through from the other side. It was a one-way mirror.
She smiled. A perfect gift for a magician.
She wanted the mirror gone, and it vanished instantly.
The soldier was coming around the smokestack. Sheryl created another mirror facing away from her. He froze and appeared confused when he saw his own reflection. The one-way mirror blocked his view of her, but she could see him from her side.
He touched the mirror, and his hand passed through the surface. There was nothing there. He stuck his head through, and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw her.
She slashed his throat.
He tried to bring his gun around to shoot her, but she kicked it out of his hand before he could pull the trigger. He staggered backwards, blood gushing from his throat. He let out one soft yell before collapsing. She quickly dragged the body over so it would be hidden behind the smokestack.
A wave of exhaustion made her dizzy for a moment. Receiving God's gift had sapped all her strength, but she had to push on.
She climbed the ladder to the top of the smokestack. She was surprised to find a steel grid covering the top. Obviously, it was meant to keep birds out. Warm air was flowing up from the interior of the factory, but she didn't smell any smoke. It seemed safe to breathe.
She crawled onto the grid. The warmth came as a great relief after being out in the freezing cold without a hat or gloves. Her eyes began to droop. She didn't want to sleep, but she had no choice.
"I'll just take a little nap. Nobody will look for me up here." She put the knife down carelessly, and it fell through the grid into the darkness below. "Crap."
She laid down and stared at the cloudy sky. Just for fun, she made a mirror above herself so she could see her own reflection again. I'm a terrible mess, she thought. Good thing Tawni can't see me. The interior of the chimney was a black hole beneath her.
Sheryl lost interest, and the mirror vanished.
Thank You, God. Thank You for everything.
My pleasure, pretty warrior. Go forth and kill.
She went to sleep.
* * *
Commander Hess of Unit K was sitting in his office. His chest still ached from being shot, but his vest had saved his life, so he couldn't complain too much. He felt like a complete idiot for allowing that woman to trick him. In retrospect, it seemed obvious.
Her escape had impressed him in other ways. Somehow she had unlocked her handcuffs without anybody noticing. When the phone had exploded, she had moved with almost inhuman quickness. During her journey through the factory, she had left five dead and five injured men in her wake, and she was still at large. It was an incredible feat for anybody, and an impossible one for a mere woman.
Who are these people? Hess wondered.
He thought about calling his employ
ers and putting the question to them directly, but then he reconsidered. He didn't want to report bad news unnecessarily. He would wait until after his men recaptured the girl.
Two squad leaders entered his office. They had circles under their eyes and drooping expressions. It had been a long day for everybody.
"Any news?" Hess said.
One squad leader shook his head. "No, sir. We searched every room in the factory."
Hess stood up angrily. "She has to be here! She certainly didn't go through the fence."
"I agree, sir, but we have no idea where. It's a very big factory."
"Keep searching."
"But..." the squad leader said.
Hess pounded his desk with his palm. "That's an order. Everybody will keep searching until she is found. Her monetary value more than justifies missing a night of sleep. And I want detailed reports from every squad leader every half-hour just to make sure they're still awake."
The squad leader sighed. "Yes, sir."
"Are all the phones disabled?" Hess said. "I don't want that woman making any calls."
"Only this phone is still working." The squad leader pointed to a blue phone on the commander's desk.
"OK. Go and resume the search. The man who finds her will get a hundred ounces of gold from my personal hoard."
"Yes, sir!"
The squad leaders saluted and left the office.
Hess sat back down again. He wasn't the sort of man who suffered from anxiety, but this situation had him spooked. This game was too dangerous. The players were too skilled. The stakes were too high. The great piles of gold he would receive at the end would do him no good if he were dead. Unfortunately, it was too late to back out.
Chapter Fifteen
Aaron stood in the hallway as Smythe, Odelia, Tawni, and Norbert returned to headquarters. They were still wearing full battle gear. Dried blood sprays marked their body armor. Nobody looked injured, but with Smythe and Odelia on the team, that wasn't a surprise. Working together, they could heal even the most severe wounds. None of the legionnaires would meet Aaron's gaze.