by Darrell Pitt
Chapter Four
When I awake I find every inch of my body is covered in a lather of sweat. My clothes are drenched. Blood seeps from my bottom lip; I remember biting down on it during the interrogation.
I lift my head slowly. The doctor has left the room.
I want to vomit.
Ravana was right in what he said. When the probe was taken away from my bare skin, the pain instantaneously disappeared, instantly replaced by a sense of relief. Pleasure, even, like being bathed in a tub of warm water.
But when the probe was applied it was like being on fire.
During those minutes the outer world ceased to exist. There was no city. No room. No chair. There was only Ravana and the probe.
And his questions. His voice calmly asking me again and again –
“Where is the headquarters of The Agency?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is The Swan?”
“Please, I don’t know where he is. I don’t even know who he is.”
“What was the name of the dead man in the room?”
“I don’t know.”
“His name? You must know his name?”
“Please, I don’t know.”
Ravana is gone. It is only now I look up at the clock. It is almost seven o’clock. I have been in the room for less than an hour, but he has broken me. I would have condemned my own grandmother to death if he had asked me. Anything to avoid the all consuming pain of the probe. But I could not tell him anything.
I don’t know anything.
Then I remember the book. In the midst of the interrogation there was no mention of the book or any questions about the man giving me anything. I know I will tell Ravana about the book. It is still hidden in the wall in the alley. I will take him to the book, if necessary. Anything to avoid the pain.
A bottomless void fills my stomach. Deep down inside I know that even if I comply with every direction given to me I will probably not survive this experience. Ravana is no amateur. His calm demeanor has convinced me he has tortured many other people and he always gets his way. He did not lose his temper once during the interrogation. Didn’t even raise his voice. He was the picture of calm.
I will tell him about the book.
Footsteps rebound in the hallway outside. He enters with a spring in his step as if he has just returned from taking a stroll outside. His face brightens into a smile.
“Ah, you’ve awoken,” he says. “Wonderful. I was concerned you would sleep for hours.”
“Please,” I say. “I will speak. I don’t know anything, but I’ve just remembered –”
At that moment I hear a rapid pop, pop, pop.
The smile fades from Ravana’s face. “What is happening?”
He turns back to the door and the sound of a man screaming reverberates along the corridor. Ravana grabs the door and pushes it shut. I derive more than a little pleasure in seeing him stand nervously behind the door, staring at it defensively. He reminds me of a naughty child waiting nervously for punishment from an angry parent.
More screaming comes from beyond the door. More firing of guns. I hear a sound like punches being thrown and then a final crash as a body hits the ground. A full minute passes. Ravana stands fearfully behind the door, clenching his fist.
“This is not possible,” he says. “They cannot –”
The door is smashed open. Ravana staggers backward as he defensively raises his fists. A person enters the room. It is a girl. Slowly I recognize her. It is the girl I saw on the motorcycle earlier. The one who ordered me to go with her.
She glances at me. “Bet you wish you’d accepted the ride.”
I nod dumbly.
The girl turns back to Ravana. The torturer suddenly looks like a cornered rat. His eyes dart around the room as if willing the walls to grow another door. Finally his gaze settles on the girl.
“Hurting me would be an enormous mistake,” he says.
“Not hurting you would be a bigger one,” she replies.
Faster than the eye could see, her fist snakes out and hits Ravana across the chin. He hits the ground like a sack of potatoes. My mouth falls open. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast.
The girl examines the chair. An instant later she has broken the arm rest on one side and my hand is free. I am wearing the handcuff like a bracelet, but my arm is free. She repeats the action on the other arm rest and for a finale breaks the legs with a couple of kicks. Producing a small piece of metal she quickly and efficiently picks the locks of the cuffs. They fall free.
“Let’s get out of here,” she says.
“You’ll get no arguments from me.” I follow her. “Can you at least tell me your name?”
“It’s Brodie,” she says.
I notice something about the way she says it. I realize she has an accent. I decide to ask about her country of origin later.
In the hallway there are groaning and bleeding men all over the floor. I vaguely recognize some of them from when I was grabbed. To my surprise, we start to head upstairs. I don’t argue. It’s when we reach the roof of the building that I look around in confusion.
“What’re we doing up here?”
“I’m pretty sure more reinforcements are arriving,” Brodie says. “I can handle a lot of them by myself, but I can’t protect you at the same time.”
“So how do we get off here?”
“We jump.”
“Jump?”
“Sure. It’s only to the next roof.” She starts across the roof. “It’s not too far.”
Okay, time for a reality check. Jumping from building to building might be something Mrs. Bruce Lee does on a daily basis, but it’s a little out of my league. We reach the edge of the roof. With every step my legs shake a little more. By the time we can see the streets below they’re quivering like jello. There is a building next to us, but it’s not simply a small step. It must be at least eight feet away.
I can’t do it. I still can’t remember my past, but I do realize something about myself that I didn’t know before now.
I’m terrified of heights.
“You’ll have to trust me,” she says. “We’re going to take a long run up and then jump across.”
“There’s part of that I don’t understand.”
“Which part?”
“Everything after, ‘you’ll have to trust me’.” I look down at the alley below. “Have you lost your mind? Jumping? Are we talking the same language? I’m going down via the stairs. I’m not jumping anywhere.”
She starts to argue with me, but I’m already making my way back to the stairwell. I’m about to enter when I hear the hammering of steps on the stairs below. Someone – correction – a lot of someones are racing up the stairs.
Hell.
I turn around just in time to see Brodie in mid flight. Obviously she has decided to shame me into jumping from one building to the next, but she has failed to inspire me with her bravado. I see her land and roll. A second later she’s back on her feet, waving to me.
Come on!
I glance down the stairwell. The cacophony of feet is drawing closer. I can try to jump or I can remain here to be interrogated again by Ravana.
I run toward the edge of the roof on shaking legs. I pick up speed quickly, though and accelerate. It’s not such a big distance and I will be across before I know it. The one thing I don’t notice is the small lip on the edge of the roof. It’s only a few inches high. I only see it out of the corner of my eye it at the last second. By then it’s too late.
My foot catches on it and instead of a graceful leap, I trip and sprawl out into space. Brodie’s mouth opens in horror. My arms stretch out. Brodie screams. The roof of the building opposite disappears from view.
I fall between the buildings.
