by K Alexander
Ryan pulls a pair of blue cotton panties from the closet and slips them on, then pulls a pair of too-large jeans on over them. Searching around she discovers a leather belt, which she threads through the loops and buckles. Even as tightly as it can be pulled, the jeans still drop low on Ryan's hips. Rifling though the shirts she pulls out a simple black t-shirt and slips it over her shoulders. Then, from another cupboard, she removes a thick black wool jacket, which she tosses on the bed. Claire freezes, but Ryan is not looking in her direction. She is searching the bottom of the closet for a pair of shoes from the neatly packed shoe tray. Taking a pair of white trainers for herself, she picks another pair for Claire, taking a while to come up with socks. Stuffing them inside the shoes, she takes Claire's pair and approaches her, crouching to drop them on the floor at her feet.
"Here. Put them on."
Claire suddenly lunges forward, the small pair of scissors flashing in her hand as she drives it towards Ryan. Catching the motion the soldier ducks to her left, the blades barely passing by her temple as she catches Claire's hand in hers, the bloody fingers closing tightly.
"Let it go."
Driven by fury and the possibility of escape Claire attacks her, screaming loudly as she kicks and rakes her fingers towards the other woman's face. Ryan restrains her without a sound, her larger hands covering Claire's as she forces her backwards on the bed and wraps her legs around the shorter woman's to compel them to stillness. The doctor is restrained by the weight pinning her down. In furious anger she screams into the face above hers, and is watched by emotionless green eyes until her throat is hoarse and the screams have given way to sobs. Once Ryan feels the woman beneath her relax her limbs, she eases off carefully, twisting the scissors out of Claire's hand.
"Don't do that again."
Taking the medical kit, Ryan moves to sit on the other end of the bed, and begins to clean her bloody hands and wrists of dirt. When she can clearly see the damage the cuffs have done to her wrists she locks the other woman in the bedroom and goes into the bathroom to hold her hands beneath the running tap, her expression inscrutable as she watches the rust-colored water drain away. Then she returns to the bedroom. The blonde has curled up on her side and is sobbing softly.
There are still shards of glass in some of the cuts on her right hand, which she removes with the small set of pincers, and then she smoothes antibiotic ointment onto her right hand and both of her wrists. Lining the cuts with gauze she winds the narrow white bandage around her right hand and each wrist and then ties it off neatly, before she packs everything back into the kit and zips it up again. Casting a glance at the woman quietly lying on the bed, she gets her sneakers and slips them on. They are slightly too large, but she does not care; pulling the socks from the other sneakers she sits down at Claire's feet and begins to slip them on. The other woman takes a shuddering breath but does not resist. When Ryan slips the shoes onto her feet, it is clear that they are much too big for her. Returning them to the closet she goes to the other bedroom and roots around in the closet before she returns with a pair of smaller white sneakers, and a blue baseball cap, which is pulled low over her eyes and hides her shaven head. When she slips the new shoes onto Claire's feet they fit perfectly. Tying the laces swiftly she stands up and downs the last of her energy drink, and then she addresses the figure in the bed.
"Get up. We're going."
The blonde sits up and attempts to wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks, her blue eyes angry. "No."
"It's not a request."
"You don't need me with you. I'm slowing you down. Just leave me here." The blonde eyebrows contract. "Please. You can pull out the telephone line, if there is one. I don't even know where I am. Just leave me. It'll be better for you that way."
"No. It will be better for you that way." Ryan eyes Claire before she opens the closet again and turns up a dark green fabric belt. Approaching the woman, who shrinks away from her, the soldier grasps her hands and unties the tatty material around her wrists before she buckles the belt loosely and slips it over Clair's hands, tightening it. With one hand the soldier picks up the first aid kit and tucks it under one arm.
"Get up."
She pulls at the belt, and Claire has no choice but to get to her feet.
4.
Ryan leads Claire downstairs, and into the kitchen, out the back door - which she leaves open - and towards the garage. The small door leading into the structure is closed and locked. Striding around the garage Ryan finds a small high window, and, standing on the tips of her toes, she manages to peer into the room. When she drops down to the ground there is a small smile playing around her mouth. They return to the kitchen where she begins to pull out drawers and search through them, whilst Claire looks on in confusion. Then, in a small drawer partially hidden by the bread bin, she finds and retrieves a set of car keys and two unmarked door keys. Slipping them into the pocket of the baggy jeans she takes another energy drink - and, after some hesitation, another apple - from the fridge, and then leads Claire outside again, taking care to slide down the window they had entered by, and setting the door latch so that it slips closed behind them. When they approach the small locked door Ryan pulls out the two unidentified keys and inserts one into the lock. It turns easily the first time. When she opens the door the inside of the garage is dark, and she runs one hand against the wall to her right searching for a light switch. When she finds and flicks it, the sudden flare of light temporarily blinds them both, and then suddenly they can see the large gray Chevrolet Trailblazer parked in front of them.
Realizing that this is likely to be very bad news for any attempts at escape, Claire at first resists going in, and when Ryan pulls her forward effortlessly she begins to yank her hands back, trying to slip them out of their bonds. With an impatient expression Ryan steps closer and wraps her hand around the doctor's left wrist, pulling her forward ruthlessly. When the smaller woman still throws her weight backwards the soldier leans forward and hoists the thrashing woman onto a sharp shoulder. Approaching the SUV she unlocks it with the remote and opens the passenger door, depositing Claire into the spacious leather seat before she slides her hand down the edge of the door and adjusts something. Claire is already shifting over the handbrake to reach the other door when her own is slammed behind her and Ryan moves around the car to get into the drivers' seat. Engaging the locks she glances upwards at the rearview mirror and tilts it upwards slightly, then leans forward to check the cubbyhole. There is a pair of aviator-style sunglasses in a soft velvet drawstring bag, which she slides out and slips on with a ghost of a smile. When Claire tries to open her door it merely clicks.
"Child lock."
Ryan slips the energy drink into the cup holder under the radio and then tosses the small first-aid kit into the cubbyhole. When Claire's eyes fall on it Ryan turns her head slightly.
"I took a lot of things out. You're welcome to look."
Negligently she tosses the apple onto Claire's lap.
"Eat."
Then, with a roar, the vehicle starts and the garage door slides upwards silently.
It is as Ryan glances over her shoulder to gauge the level of the door that a short sharp breath escapes from her lips. Her knuckles tighten on the steering wheel and her hands slowly twist inwards, and when Claire's eyes catch the motion she realizes with alarm that the soldier's hands are trembling lightly. Ryan turns her head slowly to once side and then to the other, tilting it as if her neck is stiff or aching, before she shudders unexpectedly.
"No."
Her hoarse voice delivers the word so softly that the doctor almost misses it.
"Ryan?"
The soldier does not reply, her hands tight around the steering wheel until, finally, she lifts one with an almost indiscernible tremor and lays it carefully against her right temple, shifting it after a while to skim her ear and cup her neck. When she abruptly shifts and leans over, extending her hand towards Claire, the blonde woman cringes and shifts away. It is with a small
measure of embarrassment that she watches as Ryan's hand slips open the cubbyhole to extract the first-aid kit. The woman unzips it and rifles through the interior, withdrawing a bottle of aspirin before she closes the kit and tosses it on Claire's lap. Lifting the small bottle she reads the label before she shakes out four and cracks the lid on her energy drink. Whilst she drinks the pills Claire puts the kit back into the cubbyhole and closes it quietly.
She is still quiet when Ryan reverses out of the garage, pressing the button on the remote to close the door as she leaves, and when the soldier glances left and right, gauging direction before she takes the road to the right. They are driving on a small country road, low and narrow between the thinning pines, and the vehicle drives smoothly and softly. Ryan is searching for an on button on the radio with her long fingers when Claire's voice breaks the silence.
"Ryan?"
It surprises the soldier - it is the first time the doctor has used her name directly. She does not remember hearing her name perhaps ten minutes ago. The only thing she remembers of ten minutes ago is something she wishes she could forget. In lieu of an answer she turns her head towards the doctor in an attentive manner. Claire notices, but is silent for another moment before she speaks. When she does, her voice is finally untainted by fear or panic, but rather flat and practical.
"Why can't you let me go? Have I done something to you?"
It is a first time for Claire too - Ryan flashes her a small but authentic smile. With the cap pulled low over her eyes and the large sunglasses above the razor-sharp cheekbones she looks almost like a model in a trendy magazine.
"It has absolutely nothing to do with you."
"But then why… "
"You're completely incidental." Ryan turns her gaze back to the road. "That may be hard to accept, but your presence is just consequence. Sorry."
Her voice still sounds as husky as if she has a cold, made more noticeable by what in her case amounts to sudden loquaciousness. Claire studies the road with a blank face. She is considering which approach would be most effective on the hollow-cheeked woman next to her, and decides that if she sums Ryan up correctly it would probably be honor. No one without that trait would sacrifice their life for those of their comrades, as she had done in Somalia - even if Claire finds the concept deplorable.
"Were you … talking to god back there?"
With that hesitant sentence the momentary light-hearted air about the solider slams shut. Ryan shoots a stone-faced glance at her before she turns her attention back to the road.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."
There is no answer from the marine. Claire picks at a haggard nail.
"Do you get headaches… afterwards?"
Ryan shoots her another short glance and grasps the bottle, lifting it to her mouth to take a long sip. With a sigh the doctor shifts in her seat.
"Ryan… "
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
The soldier slips the bottle back into the cup holder vehemently. "Don't speak to me like that."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."
"No." Ryan turns her head to stare at the blonde. "Don't speak to me as if you understand what's going on."
Intimidated by the eyes on her, even if they are hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, Claire turns her head to study the road. "Don't I?"
"Don't screw with me." The words are a hiss, and she turns back if only to keep any eye on the suddenly intense soldier. "You don't think I know what you think about me? You think I'm some lunatic with homicidal inclinations." Ryan's jaw clamps shut and the small muscles at the sides of her face jump.
Consciously softening her tone, Claire tries to smile. Her lips are trembling. "What makes you think that that's my opinion, Ryan?"
"I know your type." It is so fervent that the doctor begins to think that she may have made a mistake. "You're not the first to have thought that, and you won't be the last. I don't care what you think, doctor Walsch, just do me a favor and stay out of my fucking head. It's a little crowded right now."
The fingers on the steering wheel are white with tension.
Wisely Claire decides to stay still, looking at the scenery as it speeds by on her side. When she glances back after five minutes the jaw is still set, but the hands have relaxed.
"Ryan?"
The woman does not respond, and her jaw muscles clench. Bolstering her courage, Claire speaks again.
"Ryan? I'm sorry. I really don't know anything about you. I have no right to make snap judgments."
"It's what you do, isn't it?"
Claire sighs. "I'm sorry. I made assumptions."
Ryan nods her head slightly.
"You scare me."
At the blunt admission the woman's black eyebrows rise marginally, but she does not turn her head. Claire forges on.
"It's not because I think you're homicidal or dangerous. It's just that I'm not sure that you have a whole lot of control when you have one of those episodes… and I'm worried that you'll hurt me when you do."
Silence.
"I don't want you to hurt me, Ryan. I don't want to be hurt. And I don't think you intentionally want to hurt me, either. Please just let me go before something happens. You'll be gone before they find me."
More silence, and Claire can almost see the war going on behind the sunglasses as the woman debates with herself. Just as the tense knots in the doctor's stomach begin to ease, Ryan glances over at her. "I won't hurt you, doctor. As long as you co-operate." She casts a glance at the rearview mirror before she looks back at Claire, and this time she appears vaguely amused. "Nice try, by the way. Don't do it again."
------ Johnston and Bulley are a fair way into the forest when the radio crackles and Captain Lewis commands them to withdraw. To confirm, Bulley has him repeat the order before he signs off and swears crudely.
"What the fuck are they doing? What was the point of sending us this far?"
Johnston spits into the underbrush disgustedly. "There's something screwy about this shit, Bull. I wonder what Lewis is up to."
They retreat, careful not to disturb the signs they have been tracking, to find Captain Lewis on the side of the road, lighting a cigarette blankly. Markham and Smith have arrived and are leaning against their car, staring into the sky blankly. Bulley approaches Lewis truculently.
"Captain? May I ask you a question?"
"What?" Lewis matches his hostile tone easily.
"What's the point of having us track this far if you just pull us off now?"
The captain shakes out the match and tosses it into the road. "We've all been pulled off, Bulley, so don't give me crap about it. I'm getting enough grief over this fucking thing."
"Captain?"
"I don't know, Bulley. I don't know shit. Don't ask me."
They wait in silence. When a black van drives up silently and pulls in front of the blue Ford they straighten up unconsciously. As a strongly-built man dressed from head to toe in black gets out from the divers' seat the side door slides open and another four similarly attired men step into view. The man who had been driving studies the group of security guards with something like amusement before he approaches Lewis.
"Captain Lewis?" When he speaks he flashes pointy incisors, which give him the air of a predator. Lewis steps forward and extends a hand.
"General Turner?"
"No." The man shakes his hand briefly before he turns around and begins to speak to his men in a low voice. "Alpha, Bravo, we move … " he pauses and turns to Lewis. "Thank you. I have things under control. You may go."
"Don't you want to know which direction she's moving in?" Lewis is affronted, and slightly brash because of it. The man in black shoots him a cool glance.
"We know. That will be all."
With a disgusted shake of his head Captain Lewis cocks his head at his men and gets into the blue Ford. He waits in silence for Simon to close his door before he starts the car and turns around with a roar, hearing back to Fair
water.