by Simon Birks
In Pinto’s pocket, the device shook. He undid the fastener and looked at the message on the screen. It was headed, ‘Shift Details’.
The man turned and Pinto followed him through a metal tunnel, and out into a small lobby, with bars blocking the way. After a couple of seconds, a noise sounded, and the bars retracted.
Pinto walked in behind the other man.
“It’s just us now,” the man said.
“How will this work?”
“Your friend is in room 162. Your device should take you there. I’ll wait here for your return.”
“What’s in this for you?” he asked.
He didn’t know why he hadn’t asked it before.
“It’s a test. To see if the plan works. They won’t suspect it’s politically motivated if we free your friend. Now, get a move on.”
Pinto nodded. He looked at the device, and the saw the now familiar arrow.
“Should I come back here?” he asked.
The man nodded.
*
Pinto followed the arrow on the device as quickly as possible. The layout of the building seemed fairly basic, just corridors, cells and stairs to the other levels. He kept an eye out for other guards as he walked, but saw none. They clearly believed their system was impenetrable.
He arrived at the door to room 162. Several bolts secured it, and as quietly as possible, Pinto moved them back. When the last one was unlocked, he pushed open the door.
There was a shape on the bed inside.
“Fijefel,” Pinto whispered. “Wake up, it’s me.”
The shape grunted, but didn’t wake up.
“Fijefel,” Pinto said, more urgently.
That worked. The shape turned over and looked at him.
“Pinto?”
His friend sounded sleepy.
“Come on, we need to get out of here.”
Fijefel rubbed his eyes.
“Yes,” he said, rising to his feet. “How did you find me?”
“I met some people,” Pinto said. “They’re going to help us escape.”
Fijefel nodded.
“Follow me,” Pinto said.
They made their way back through the prison, moving as quietly as they could. When they got to the entrance, the metal bars stood in their way.
“Where is he?” Pinto said, frustrated. “He said he’d be here.”
A moment later, the bars opened, and Pinto and Fijefel exchanged a look. From the other side, someone called, “hurry up!”
The two ran through the metal tunnel and emerged at the entrance. The other guard was there with blood on his uniform.
“What happened?” Pinto asked.
“Change of plan. I had to deal with them. Now go, before reinforcements arrive.”
“Where should we go?”
“You can’t go back to Berra. Not yet. There’s an entrance to the city, the directions are already programmed into the vehicle. It’ll take you there. Go, go!”
Pinto looked at his friend for guidance.
“We have to go,” Fijefel said. “What choice do we have?”
Attack in the Corn
They didn’t have a chance to defend themselves, which was the truth of it.
Orsa patrolled the perimeter of the barn. She hadn’t eaten when the others had. Since the Vengeance had found her, she found her energy from other sources. She tried not to think about it too much. There was little she could do about it.
Hoep walked with her, and she was glad of his company.
“It’s mad, isn’t it?” he said, looking out over their surroundings.
“It’s always been mad,” she replied. “How long do you want to stay here for?”
Hoep shrugged.
“I don’t know. Before eating, I’d have said we should leave tomorrow, but now maybe we should recoup.”
He smiled, and Orsa smiled too.
“That makes sense,” she agreed. “A little time here would be sensible. You think we can trust them?”
“The kid’s a bit weird, but weird is the new normal. The Ma seems pleasant enough; protective of the girl but that’s understandable. And Hossip is very helpful. What about you?”
“I only trust you,” she said.
*
There were lights on in the farmhouse, and the pair headed towards it.
“It’s so quiet here,” Orsa said.
“I’d have thought you’d be used to that.”
“The forest is a noisy place at the best of times. Always something trying to keep you awake. But here… it’s damn near silent.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Not good. Just different.”
They stopped. The calmness of the fields, the farm, was almost complete. The thief thought she could hear the sound of her heart beating.
Hoep broke the silence first.
“That woman earlier…”
“The ghost?”
“That’s the one. Her name was Ka Loy. She was my Ka in the Complex.”
“What was she doing here?”
“She was looking for someone to talk to. She was a good woman. Saw me through the difficult years.”
“Why didn’t she stay?”
“I’m not sure. I think she’s a bit lost.”
“Well, if I felt lost, you’d be the one I’d seek out.”
They were now halfway between the barn and the farmhouse.
“I am the Vengeance,” Orsa said.
“No,” Hoep replied. “You are the kind young woman that it now inhabits. There’ll be a way of getting rid of it. And we will. Even if it kills me.”
“Don’t say that,” Orsa said. “You’re going to be just fine.”
Hoep shook his head.
“I am a sacrifice. And you are the person I’d sacrifice it for.”
Orsa turned and hugged Hoep.
“And you the person I’d sacrifice myself for.”
“Then together we stand. Together we fall.”
Orsa laughed.
“That we do.”
Hoep made a funny noise. At first Orsa thought he was laughing, but then his body sagged as though it was too heavy for him to stand.
“Hoep?” she said. “Hoep, what’s the matter?”
He grunted in reply, but Orsa couldn’t make out what it was. She lowered him gently to the ground, making sure he didn’t fall.
“Hoep?” she whispered.
She laid him down on his back, and looked into his face. He was unconscious, his breathing laboured.
“Don’t do this to me!” she said. There was a noise to her left. Orsa looked up and saw half a dozen men coming out of the farmhouse. They moved with purpose. “Oh no,” she said.
There was little time. Orsa put her mouth next to Hoep’s ear.
“I’ll come back for you,” she said. “You hang in there.”
Orsa looked over to the farmhouse, and watched the direction the people were taking. Their route wouldn’t take them near Hoep. That was good. Orsa could feel the rage start to burn inside her. It was difficult to control, but she knew she had to.
Carefully, the woman with the Vengeance stole away into the field, before turning towards the barn. She might not trust them, but the others had to be warned.
It was what Hoep would have wanted her to do.
*
Before she reached the barn, a thought struck Orsa. The people at the farmhouse knew about the skirmish with the Sharg. They wanted the bounty on our heads.
She entered the barn, and was struck by the silence within. She approached where Ma Poppun had been sitting, and found the cook lying on the floor, unconscious. So was Visenai.
Orsa checked their breathing; both simply seemed asleep. She couldn’t see Hossip, but it was likely he was with the horses.
She moved to the stables, listening out for the men from the farmhouse. The horses were still standing, but she couldn’t see the coachman.
The plank of wood hit lower than Hossip had been aiming, that
was his first mistake. It landed across Orsa’s shoulders, instead of her head, and that meant, whilst it hurt her considerably, she didn’t lose consciousness, as he’d hoped.
Orsa staggered forwards and fell to her knees. The other mistake was choosing a plank too heavy to swing quickly. By the time it passed through the space where Orsa’s head had been, she was nowhere to be seen.
Hossip took a step backwards. Orsa waited until his weight was on his back foot, and then swept it away. The man came down with a crunch. Orsa pushed Hossip’s head back against the floor, rendering him unconscious. Orsa went to the coach, climbed on top, and found the bow and arrows.
Orsa scanned the inside of the barn. Near the top of the structure, there was a large hole she could reach. With little effort, the thief climbed through it and looked out. She could see them approaching and they were all together as a group. That was good. They hadn’t discovered Hoep yet.
As they got closer, they split up. Something about their demeanour gave Orsa the impression they thought the job was going to be easy. The thief let loose two arrows. Both found their mark, and the others scattered, running towards the barn. Orsa climbed onto a rope hanging down on a pulley, and half-slid, half-fell to the ground. She was quick, but that didn’t stop one of them sending an arrow her way. It missed by inches, passing above her head, harmlessly embedding itself into the wood of the barn.
Orsa kept close to the shadows, loading her bow as she ran. She knew one of the Sharg was behind her, and wanted to flush them out. Sure enough, as she ran, she heard their footfalls. Orsa planted both feet on the ground, and sprung up with all her strength.
She twisted in the air, and looked to see if she could spot the attacker. She could. There was a risk involved, a risk she might miss entirely, but she made a calculation and released the bow string. As expected, the Sharg attempted to dive out of the way. They were good, quick fighters. They had predicted she would fire an arrow at them, and had accounted for that. What they hadn’t accounted for were three arrows being fired at once.
The first arrow skidded harmlessly off the ground. The next one buried itself in the Sharg’s shoulder, and he would have cried out in pain if the last one hadn’t pierced his chest and stopped his heart.
Orsa landed, lost her balance and fell backwards, rolling awkwardly behind a cart. Several arrows thudded into its side, but none found the gaps they were looking for.
Orsa was breathing hard. Three Sharg left, she thought. Three too many.
She was locked down. There was a small gap between her and the corn, and she was certain one of them would have an arrow trained on that space. She looked at the cart, which was shielding her. It was old and broken. One of the wheels was completely off, and another was useless.
A chance, she thought. Make your own chances, a voice in her head said. Save Hoep.
Orsa nodded. She had to save Hoep, and she couldn’t do that dead.
*
The Sharg whose arrow was trained on the gap saw the cart move. It was a strange ploy, he thought. The cart wasn’t going anywhere fast. He waited, looking for a sliver of shadow so he could fire. He had been promised they would all be unconscious. That they could be dispatched easily. Now, three of the Sharg were dead.
The cart stopped moving. What were they playing at?
Then movement. The Sharg’s arrow was flying through the air almost before he knew he was firing it. He felt a moment of joy. He’d done it. He’d got them.
Then he heard it hit wood instead of flesh and bone. He blinked. It wasn’t a person he saw move, but one of the cart’s wheels. And his arrow was sticking out of it. He almost laughed.
That’s clever.
The wheel reached the corn, and then it was gone. The Sharg stood, looking, not really believing what they’d seen. It was a simple mistake. He never even saw the arrow fly out of the corn towards him; didn’t even realise he was about to die.
*
Just two left. Those were better odds. Orsa looked out of the corn towards the barn; it was deserted, but for the bodies. She retrieved the Sharg’s arrow from the wheel, and kept down. She was far from safe, but at least she was out of harm’s way for the time being.
*
One of the Sharg moved silently through the corn, searching for the attacker who was somewhere in front of him. He hadn’t hung around to see what had happened to his colleagues, but he had the feeling they hadn’t fared so well. He had ducked off to the side, using the corn to hide him, helping him manoeuvre into a position for a surprise attack. In his right hand he held his sword; in his left, his shield.
Up ahead, the figure came into view; a woman by the looks of it. He slowed. He was in no rush to give away his position.
*
Orsa wanted to flush the other two out. Normally, she would wait, but Hoep couldn’t wait. She had to get back to him.
Part of her was worried that the Sharg might have entered the barn and found Ma Poppun and the child already. If so, there wasn’t anything she could do to help them.
*
The Sharg raised his sword high above his head, slowly and carefully. He steadied his breath, pausing momentarily at the top of the swing.
He saw a blur just below his chin, and felt the cold steel of the blade on his neck before he’d had time to react. There was another blur, and the knife had sliced through the skin. He was disorientated for a second, and then he was pushed backwards, to die in the corn.
*
Orsa snapped around when she heard the gasp, and saw the Sharg fall, sword still in hand. There was a figure behind him.
“You!” the thief said. “Ka Loy?”
The woman smiled.
“You owe me,” she said to Orsa, and disappeared.
*
“Come out!” came the call. A woman’s voice. “Come out, or the girl dies!”
Orsa spun back around and saw the last Sharg, dragging an unconscious Visenai out, a knife at her throat.
She wouldn’t be able to kill the Sharg without endangering the girl.
“Come out now, or she dies.”
Orsa didn’t have time to think of a plan, so she complied and stepped out of the corn.
“Put the bow down,” the Sharg said. “On the ground.”
Orsa took a step closer, testing the Sharg, who responded by pushing the tip of the knife further against the girl’s neck.
“I know just how much pressure to use,” the Sharg said.
Orsa put the bow down.
“Now the arrow,” she demanded.
Orsa placed the remaining arrow on the ground.
“Any more weapons?” the Sharg asked. Orsa held her hands up, and shook her head. “You better not be lying. No second chances.”
Orsa stepped back.
“Let the girl go,” the thief said. “It’s me you want.”
“We want you all,” the Sharg replied. “Plenty of money on all your heads.”
“Is it enough, though? To threaten a girl’s life?”
“Money is money,” the Sharg said. “Kneel on the floor.”
“Why?”
“Stop wasting my time! Kneel on the floor.”
Orsa did so.
“This is a mistake, you know,” she said.
“No mistake. You killed my friends,” the Sharg said. “Now it’s you turn.”
Orsa looked up at the Sharg, saw her throw the girl behind her, unsheathe her sword and hold it in both hands.
The Sharg was angry, and in her anger had not listened for the girl to hit the floor. Visenai landed on her feet, next to where the thief had put the arrow.
Orsa watched the Sharg begin to swing the sword down, and rolled out of the way. It was an easy move. The heavy sword hit the ground and the vibration shook up the length of the mercenary’s arms.
“You coward,” the Sharg said.
The Sharg raised her sword again.
Orsa watched as Visenai landed on the Sharg’s back, hooked her arm around her neck and burie
d the arrow into it. Blood spurted out, and the mercenary fell to her knees. Visenai leapt off, still holding the arrow.
Orsa looked towards the girl, who smiled back at her.
“I was tired, not hungry,” she said, with a shrug.
*
Orsa and Visenai went to where Hoep lay in the field. Orsa was relieved to see the Sharg hadn’t found him.
“He’s dying,” Visenai said. “I can feel it.”
“Dying of what? The sleeping draft?”
“Partly, and something else. I don’t know what.”
“He can’t die,” Orsa said, brushing Hoep’s hair from his face. “He can’t die.”
“We all die,” Visenai said.
There was a pause. Orsa held Hoep close.
“I must be able to help him! I must!”
“There is something you can do,” Visenai said.
Orsa looked at her.
“What?”
“The thing inside you,” Visenai said. “It will help him.”
Orsa shook her head.
“No, I can’t! I would never do that.”
“It’s the only way to save him.”
“But it’ll make him be like me!”
“Yes, it will.”
“I can’t do that to him. I can’t. I can’t.”
“There isn’t much time.”
Orsa looked at Hoep. His face was calm, he looked like he was fast asleep. He was a gentle man. He didn’t need the Vengeance. He’d never asked for it.
“He misses you,” Visenai said. “He’s scared he won’t see you again.”
“Damn you girl! You don’t understand. No-one understands!” Orsa shouted. She looked around at Visenai. “Get back.”
“I’ll be safe,” the girl said.
“Just give me some space!”
The girl seemed to understand that, and moved out of the thief’s vision.
Orsa breathed in deeply, drawing the air deep into herself. She breathed in again, and drew the air down. One more breath, one more draw. She looked at Hoep. Touched his cheek.
Then she bent forward, placed her lips over his, and breathed out.
Epilogue
The place was dark, destroyed. Trees had fallen, cracks in the ground were now gaping fissures. Near the ruins of the church, something moved. A stone toppled. Then another. Then another.
