2041 Sanctuary (Genesis)

by Robert Storey

  The surgeon reached out and touched Trish’s jacket. ‘Deep Reach,’ she said, ‘USSB Sanctuary. What are these? Your friend had the same uniform.’

  Trish looked down at the emblems, then back up. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  ‘It’s a potholing club,’ Jason said, ‘united submerged subterranean …’

  ‘Bandits,’ Trish said.

  ‘Potholing, I don’t know this word.’

  ‘Caving, spelunking,’ Jason said, giving Trish a look of reproach. ‘We explore deep holes in the ground.’

  The surgeon frowned, her expression telling them they’d failed to convince, but the uncomfortable silence ended when a nurse called her away.

  ‘Bandits?’ Jason said.

  Trish turned back to look at Sarah. ‘It’s all I could think of.’

  ‘She doesn’t believe anything we say.’

  ‘Would you?’

  Jason murmured, ‘No,’ and they remained in silent vigil for a few minutes until a nurse approached them with a wheelchair.

  ‘You better get that arm sorted,’ Jason said. ‘I don’t think they’re going to take no for an answer this time.’

  ‘Stay here with her,’ Trish said, ‘I don’t want her on her own.’

  ‘What about you?’

  Trish got into the wheelchair. ‘I’ll be fine. Promise me you’ll stay here?’

  He bent down and kissed her cheek. ‘I promise.’

  The nurse wheeled Trish away and she glanced back to see Jason watching her go, and she held his gaze until he was out of sight.

  A thousand thoughts bombarded Trish’s mind as she travelled through the network of corridors, but as she continued to worry about Sarah a troubling sight broke her abstraction. A couple of police officers walked towards them and one of them carried two familiar objects: hers and Jason’s Deep Reach helmets. She tried recalling where she’d last seen them. We must have left them in the foyer, she realised, and she covered her face with her hand as the officers strode past. One of the men gave her a cursory glance, but they didn’t stop. Trish made to get up, but the nurse was already pushing her through double doors. A host of medical staff bustled around her and she was forced to submit to their care. Jason will know what to say, she told herself as she was guided into the operating theatre, won’t he?

  Chapter Seventy Eight

  Hospital del Valle, San Pedro Sula, Honduras

  Six days had passed since Trish’s operation and her initial fears about the police had proved unfounded. They’d asked Jason some searching questions about the events leading up to their hospital visit, but his answers had satisfied them and they’d returned their Deep Reach helmets and left. Jason had theorised they had more important things to worry about than three injured foreigners, and Trish had decided he was probably right, especially considering the civil unrest that continued to blight the country’s streets.

  As soon as she’d been able, Trish had rejoined Jason and they waited together for Sarah’s condition to improve. Sadly, any progress had been minimal which was why Trish found herself kneeling down inside the hospital’s chapel and praying for the miracle that might never come. A numb silence hung over the small place of worship, its whitewashed walls dull in the low light that filtered through a stained glass window above. Trish was amazed any light came through at all, but during their time back in civilisation they’d learned that the dust cloud had thinned the world over.

  She thanked God again for bringing them out of the dark and then sent another prayer for Sarah’s recovery fluttering into the ether. So far her pleas had gone unanswered, but she took strength from Jason’s encouragement. When she’d told him of her trips to the chapel she’d thought his scepticism would show through, but all he’d said was, ‘I’d take a bit of divine intervention right about now.’

  The muffled sound of the chapel door opening broke the cocoon of peace and Trish glanced round to see a woman enter. Small in stature, she wore the traditional garb of a Catholic nun.

  Trish turned back to face the large crucifix that hung on the wall while the woman’s footsteps echoed closer. The bench to her left creaked as the religious sister eased her burden. Trish closed her eyes in an attempt to regain a semblance of spiritual connection, but before she could elicit such an awakening the woman spoke.

  ‘You pray for your friend, señorita?’

  Trish looked round. It was unusual to be interrupted in prayer, especially by someone who should have known better. ‘This is your chapel?’ she said.

  ‘Sí.’ The woman nodded and smiled, but said no more.

  Trish got to her feet; her meditative state had gone. I’ll come back later, she thought, and left the woman to it.

  She had just stepped out of the chapel when the nun slipped through the door behind her and blocked her way.

  ‘You should leave,’ she said, her eyes fervent, ‘it is not safe for you here.’

  Trish looked at her in confusion. ‘What?’

  ‘It is not safe, señorita.’ She grasped Trish’s hands. ‘You must leave. All three of you must leave!’

  ‘We can’t leave, Sarah’s in a coma in UCI.’

  The woman shook her head and released her hold as a large group of people approached. Some dabbed their eyes with handkerchiefs, others cried openly, and Trish gathered from their words they had lost someone dear.

  ‘Your friend is awake,’ the nun said, then stepped back to allow the grieving family to pass between them.

  ‘What?’ Trish felt the shock of the woman’s words, but she was unable to continue the conversation as the people filing into the chapel blocked the nun from view.

  Seconds dragged on and when the final mourner walked past, Trish dodged round them to find that the woman had disappeared. She ducked her head inside the chapel, but the dark room offered up no sign of the religious emissary.

  She frowned before remembering what the woman had said. Sarah is awake!

  Trish set off at a run, dodging round disapproving medical staff as she made her way back to the ward.

  When she got there she stopped and stared in stunned amazement at the sight before her. Sarah was sitting propped up in bed and Jason sat next to her, holding her hand.

  A nurse waved her inside with a smile and Trish walked forward as if in a dream.

  Jason looked up as she entered and Sarah turned her head and mustered a tired smile, and it was then that Trish knew that whatever else happened, everything was going to be okay.

  Chapter Seventy Nine

  Sarah accepted a glass of water and sipped at it as Jason helped hold it to her mouth. The refreshing liquid trickled down her parched throat like a heavenly elixir, and when she’d finished, she rested her head back on her pillow in satisfied relief.

  She glanced over at the bed next to her and the poor man still fighting for his life, then looked down at her own sorry state. Bandaged hands, chest and feet. A bit more, she thought, and I’d look like an Egyptian mummy. She reached up and scratched at the bandages covering her head before a nurse pulled her hand away and gave her a disapproving look. Sarah did as she was told, even though the itching on her scalp sought to drive her mad.

  The nurse bustled around her seeing to this that and the other, adjusted the intravenous drip and then moved away to annoy someone else.

  Sarah owed these people her life, but just lying there like the invalid she was made her want to scream. And then there was the smell, a persistent stench of disinfectant mixed with a host of other unpleasant aromas, some of which she suspected were naturally produced. And even worse, she thought, some of them probably come from me. She sighed. ‘I can’t stand hospitals.’

  ‘You should count yourself lucky.’ Jason yawned and then stretched. ‘You’ve been asleep through most of it.’

  ‘I just want to get out of here.’

  ‘That’s a good sign,’ Trish said, ‘and Jas is right, you should count yourself lucky. Things could have been a lot worse, they expected y
ou to have neurological problems. And they say all your vitals are normalising too, we couldn’t have hoped for better.’

  ‘They haven’t told us why the sudden change, though,’ Jason said, ‘even after they did all those tests and scans.’

  ‘I don’t think they know.’ Trish glanced over at the nurses’ station. ‘Haven’t you seen them, the confused looks and hushed discussions. They’re surprised, I think, at how well she’s doing.’

  ‘So am I,’ Jason said, and then looked at Sarah. ‘You’ve been getting better by the hour. Give it a few days and I reckon you’ll be up and about.’

  Sarah shifted in her bed. She wasn’t sure about a few days, she’d been conscious for half that and her body still ached all over, although she felt strangely elated. They told her it was probably the result of the morphine she’d been getting, but even so, apart from the general agony, she felt pretty great considering she’d had major surgery a week earlier. She still couldn’t believe she was alive. Everything told her she should be dead, but somehow here she was. She didn’t know how to explain it and perhaps she never would. Jason just told her to accept it and be thankful and she’d decided, for now, it would take too much effort to do otherwise.

  When she’d first woken, recent memories had tried to assemble themselves into chronological order, but her time before the hospital remained jumbled in a blur of pain and suffering, and any thoughts of her experience underground had locked itself in a fortress of self-imposed ignorance. She didn’t want to process any of it, not yet … not ever … and so she concentrated on what mattered most – her friends, who resumed a conversation they’d been having on and off for the last twenty-four hours.

  ‘And she said it wasn’t safe?’ Jason said. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Trish, in exasperation, ‘how many more times? She said it wasn’t safe and that we should leave; that’s when she told me Sarah was awake.’

  ‘And she didn’t say why?’

  ‘No. But she meant it; you could see the fear in her eyes.’

  ‘But no one knows we’re here,’ Jason said. ‘Unless she meant no foreigner is safe.’

  A flash of recollection made Sarah frown. ‘Perhaps someone does know we’re here.’

  ‘The people that were after us, you mean?’ Trish glanced round to make sure no one would overhear. ‘Terra Force?’

  ‘They’re inside a base that has GMRC influence,’ Jason said. ‘Perhaps the GMRC are looking for us on the surface, too?’

  Trish moved her chair closer. ‘But how would they know we got out?’

  Jason shrugged. ‘Perhaps that Goodwin fella told them – if he survived.’

  A memory of fire and blood sent pain lancing through Sarah’s head. She grimaced and pressed the heel of her hand against her eye.

  ‘You okay?’ Jason said.

  Trish reached out and touched her shoulder in concern. ‘Sarah?’

  The sensation subsided and Sarah gave a nod. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘I can get the nurse,’ Jason said.

  Sarah shook her head. ‘No, I’m okay, honestly.’

  Trish sat back and gave Sarah a final look of appraisal before turning back to Jason. ‘Even if Goodwin did tell them, they’d have no idea where we went.’

  ‘Richard wouldn’t rat us out,’ Sarah said, ‘he’s not that type.’

  Jason made a face. ‘You hardly know him.’

  ‘You don’t have to know someone to know someone,’ Trish said.

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘It’s called intuition.’ Sarah paused for breath as she fought to suppress the past. ‘And anyway I don’t mean anyone from … down there.’

  ‘Then who? Trish said.

  ‘The militia at Copán.’

  A look of realisation stole over Trish’s face. ‘The monument you defaced before we found Sanctuary, of course!’

  ‘Shhh,’ Jason said, as one of the nurses looked over at them, ‘keep your voice down.’

  Trish leaned forward in her chair. ‘How could they know, though? Do you think the driver of the pick-up told them?’

  ‘Or the helicopter pilot,’ Jason said, ‘who knows? It makes sense, though. We only just got away from them last time. If they’ve found out we’re back …’

  ‘That was a year ago,’ Trish said. ‘Do you really think they’d remember?’

  Jason gave her a look, a ‘what do you think?’ kind of look.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Trish put her hand to her mouth. ‘The explosion, the shaped charge we used to get out. We caused loads more damage. If they were angry before, they’ll be apoplectic now.’

  ‘Then that must be it,’ Jason said, ‘your nun meant the militia, which means we’re in trouble. They control this whole region. The police won’t get in their way, no one will; if they want us, they’ll just come in and haul us out.’

  ‘Even with Sarah in recovery?’ Trish said, alarmed.

  ‘They won’t care, if they want to string us up, it just makes their job easier. We’re all in one place, easy pickings.’

  ‘Then we need to think about getting Sarah out of here.’

  Jason frowned. ‘I know I said she could be up and about soon, but she’s had brain surgery, she needs proper care. We can’t drag her out on some kind of mission.’

  ‘I’ll be okay.’ Sarah tried to sit up, felt dizzy and slumped back onto her pillow.

  ‘See,’ he said, gesturing at her.

  ‘Then one of us should keep watch,’ Trish said, ‘while the other stays with Sarah at all times.’

  ‘We need to find that nun,’ Jason said, ‘that’s what we need to do.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Trish stood up and moved to the door. ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ she said, and she slipped out into the corridor and disappeared through a pair of doors.

  Jason reached out and gave Sarah’s hand a squeeze. ‘We’ll look after you.’

  Sarah didn’t respond. All she wanted to do was to go home and rest. Home, she thought, where is that now? England, London, my flat with Mark … Sanctuary?

  Does it matter? she wondered. Wherever that place of familiar safety might be, she knew the fickle finger of fate would have other ideas. Doesn’t it always? she thought, as her eyelids drooped closed. It certainly seemed that way.

  Chapter Eighty

  ‘What do you mean, they don’t have a nun?’ Jason said. ‘You spoke to her.’

  Trish sat down. ‘I know, but that’s what they said and I asked about ten different people, from doctors to the janitor. They all said the same thing; the chapel is run by a priest who comes in at weekends.’

  ‘Then who the hell did you speak to?’

  Trish shrugged.

  ‘And you’re sure you didn’t dream it?’ Jason said.

  Trish glared at him.

  ‘Then she could be anyone.’ Sarah looked from one of her friends to the other.

  ‘She could have been on a flying visit,’ Trish said.

  ‘A flying nun?’ Jason said with a straight face, before puffing out his cheeks. ‘But she told you she ran the chapel.’

  ‘Look I don’t know what to say, that’s what they said.’

  ‘Then what do we do now?’ Sarah said.

  No one spoke as the nurse, who’d been seeing to the other patients in the room, walked over to check Sarah’s charts.

  ‘Permiso,’ she said to them, ‘forgive me, the monja, the nun you speak of, I have seen her.’

  ‘You have?’ Jason said, shocked.

  ‘Sí, señor.’ The nurse gave him a shy smile and then looked at Sarah. ‘She left something for you, señorita.’

  ‘For me?’

  ‘Sí, she told me to give it to you when you were feeling better. Shall I get it for you?’

  Sarah nodded and the nurse left the room while the three friends waited for her return in confused anticipation.

  The nurse came back and placed a small padded envelope on the bed.

  ‘And she said nothing else?’ Sarah said.


  The nurse shook her head and moved away.

  ‘¡Gracias!’ Jason called out, making the woman blush.

  ‘Open it, then,’ Trish said.

  Sarah picked up the package and tore it open, then upended it onto the bed.

  A small black rectangle fell out and Sarah, feeling tired after her brief exertion, just stared at it.

  ‘It’s a car key,’ Jason said, picking it up, ‘and an old one by the look of it.’

  Trish reached out to look inside the envelope. ‘There’s a message.’ She pulled out a piece of folded paper and offered it to Sarah.

  ‘You read it,’ Sarah said.

  Trish opened it out. ‘It’s in Spanish,’ she said, concentrating. ‘Follow the map and for … I’m not sure what this means … follow the map for – no – to find safe haven.’

  ‘Safe haven,’ Jason said, ‘what else does it say?’

  Trish turned the paper over. ‘That’s it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What map?’ Sarah said, confused.

  ‘Perhaps it’s in the car.’ Trish passed the paper to Jason.

  ‘If there’s a car,’ Sarah said.

  ‘My turn.’ Jason got up and made to leave.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Trish said.

  ‘To look for the vehicle that goes with this key. That woman, nun, or whoever she is, would have left it close by if she wanted us to find it.’

  Before Sarah or Trish could voice their concerns Jason was out the door and giving them a parting wave through the glass partition before disappearing from view.

  ‘Idiot,’ Trish said. ‘It could be a trap for all he knows.’

  ‘Who’d want to trap us?’ Sarah said. ‘No one knows we’re here.’

  ‘Someone would trap us for that thing in your chest.’

  Sarah looked down at the bandage masking the offending object and reached down to touch it.

  ‘And apparently the militia know we’re here,’ Trish continued, ‘and sooner or later we’re going to have to accept the GMRC or whoever wants that pendant will come after us again, unless we can stay off their radar, which, all things considered, will be pretty difficult, if not impossible.’