by Chris Ord
They moved near the end of the field, the dew from the soft grass seeping through their boots and trousers. Gaia noticed something. A shadow flashed across the grass illuminated by the moon. It was large, but fleeting. She looked up, but saw nothing. Perhaps she was mistaken. Maybe it was nothing, her paranoia yet again.
They climbed the dunes and Aran led them onto the beach, moving onto the firm, wet sand nearer the tidal stretch. The tide was still low, the shadows of the rocks and seaweed could be seen stretching out towards the calm silvery water in the distance. The calm was a deception. It would not be long before it turned. Aran stopped a moment, scanning the beach both ways, the golden sand stretching for miles. Aran pointed.
‘We’re heading north, following the beach until we reach the causeway. It’s safer and we can keep an eye on the tide. We’ve got to get a shift on. It won’t be long before it turns. We need to get onto the causeway before it does. We might just make it, but it’s going to be tight.’
Yann looked at Clara and Gaia. He spoke, loud enough to make the others uncomfortable.
‘Can’t you take the handkerchief out of her mouth now? No-one is going to hear her this far out. I’m sure she got the message about not trying anything stupid. We’ve all seen what you’re capable of.’
Gaia pressed the knife against Clara’s cheek. The cold steel blade burnt her skin. Clara’s eyes bulged with fear, begging Gaia to back off.
‘OK. I’ll take it out, but remember don’t be stupid. I won’t hesitate and no-one will hear you scream. Are we clear?’
Clara nodded. Gaia took the handkerchief from her mouth and put it in her rucksack. Clara gasped as though struggling for air. She bit her tongue, desperate to hurl insults at Gaia, but knowing it would be a mistake. Yann smiled at Gaia, and mouthed a thank you. Aran spoke, an anxious tone to his voice.
‘We’ll stick to the tidal stretch. The sand’s firmer and we can move faster.’
Aran set off jogging along the beach, as the others followed. Gaia and Clara struggled at the rear, Clara trying her best to appear to be keeping up, still dragging the pace as much as she could. Gaia kept tugging at her bound hands, warning her to get a move on. Clara remained silent, all the hatred bottled and simmering inside.
They made steady progress. Everyone was fit and the pace comfortable at first, but soon Aran began to step things up. The causeway was a few miles, the distance no problem, but he was becoming worried about the tide. They had delayed far too long and the timing was tight now.
After about a mile Gaia noticed the shadow again. Once more it was momentary, something flying across the light of the moon. There was another, a large black sheet sweeping along the sand. This time Gaia heard something, a whooshing sound. Something was in the air above them. It was large, and fast. It could only be the night birds. Gaia picked up her pace, pulling Clara along. They moved up through the group first passing Yann, then Freya and reaching Aran. Gaia ran alongside Aran with Clara close behind.
‘Aran, there’s something overhead. I’m sure it’s the night birds.’
‘I know, I’ve seen the shadows too. Let’s keep moving. We’ll be there soon. If they were going to attack us, I’m sure they would’ve by now.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
Gaia had let go of Clara, and let her slip back. Gaia turned and noticed Clara had stopped further back on the beach, crouched in the sand, face down. Gaia shouted.
‘Keep going I’ll get her.’
The others pushed on while Gaia made her way back to Clara.
‘Come on Clara. We can’t mess about. I know what you’re up to.’
‘Can I just rest for a couple of minutes? Please!’
Clara looked up at Gaia. For a moment the pleading dove eyes emerged, but soon disappeared knowing there was no point. Gaia was beyond her charm, if anything it would make her worse.
‘You’ll have plenty of time to rest once we cross the causeway. Move it.’
‘Can you not just tie me up on this side of the causeway? I won’t try to escape. I promise. I don’t want to be on the mainland alone. I’ve heard stories about what’s over there. I’m sure you have too.’
Gaia grabbed Clara’s bound hands and yanked her to her feet.
‘You’re crossing the causeway. We’re taking no more risks.’
Gaia tugged at Clara and they set off after the others, lifting the pace to gain ground, catching them step by step. Clara’s breathless charade had ceased. The pace was well within their comfort zone and she was getting nowhere with Gaia. Clara would just have to see it through. It would all be over in a few hours. If they kept their promise. Hopefully, they would all be caught before then anyway. Clara hoped the leaders had discovered they were gone and were waiting for them at the causeway. She longed to see Gaia get what she deserved.
They followed a long arching bend and soon the causeway came into view. The beginning of the long road cast a shadow on the sheen of the glistening sea. The tide had already started to move. The causeway was long, but straight and direct, leading them to the mainland and their freedom. The light of the moon was bright, its glow enough to see the end of the causeway. Aran pushed on until they reached the start of the road. They were alone. No-one was waiting. Their path was clear. They had made it to the first part of their journey. Now they had to make the crossing, and time was running out. Aran stopped at the beginning of the road, turned and spoke.
‘We’re cutting it a bit tight, but we should be OK as long as we keep up a good pace.’
Freya spoke, the first time she had uttered a word since they left the hideout.
‘Are you sure we’ll make it?’
‘Yes. Anyway, we’ve no choice now. We can’t go back. Stay here if you want, but I’m not going back. Anyone else want to stay?’
Aran looked around the group, the moon lighting their faces. No-one responded.
‘Good. Let’s go. Every minute is costing us.’
They stepped onto the causeway, and began to move along the road. It was narrow, only a few metres wide, protected by a line of large boulders. It was in a poor state of repair, crumbling and potholed. Some sections had gaping holes that were now pools of seawater filled with rocks and seaweed. They were easy to dodge, but their frequency hampered the group. About half a mile along the road they came across the remains of a wooden shed. It was on a raised platform with steps leading up to it. Gaia assumed it was some sort of stopping point, a safety area for anyone who had been caught by the waves and stranded. A rusting sign stood nearby, scarred with long forgotten words that could no longer be made out.
They kept on moving with no let up. From the corner of her eye Gaia could make out the lapping waves coming into view as they edged closer to the line of rocks. What Aran had not realised was the tide would be at its highest as they reached the centre of the causeway. They had no sense of this from the beach. After about ten minutes, they neared the halfway point and the high line of the encroaching waves. Though the road was not yet swamped, it was only minutes away, and there was still ten minutes at least before they reached the mainland. Gaia was worried, and sensed the others were too. Aran looked to his side more and more as he pushed on.
Aran lifted the pace. Soon the sea had broken through the boulders and was lapping onto the road. They kept moving, splashing through the shallow water. Clara stopped. She was exhausted. The mental strain of the night had drained her, taking much more from her physically than the others. Gaia could see Clara’s face in the moonlight, the weariness, the look of despair. Clara lifted her arms and thrust her bound hands towards Gaia, pleading.
‘Please cut my hands free. We might have to swim. I don’t want to drown. There’s no way I can make it back now. Please Gaia.’
Gaia could hear the pain and desperation in her cries. Clara was right. The threat of escape and raising the alarm was over. There was no point in putting lives at risk. Gaia placed the blade of her knife between Clara’s tied hands and cut the string. Clara rubbe
d her wrists.
‘Thanks.’
‘OK. Let’s get going. We’ve still got some distance to go.’
They ran as best they could through the rising water, each step more laboured than the last. The sea slowed their pace as it closed in on them. The water was just below Gaia’s knee, making running ever more difficult. The sea was freezing, Gaia’s legs numb. Aran was still out in front, pressing ahead, determined to get them to the mainland, not let them down. This was his mission, and they were all his responsibility. Freya was tucked in close behind Aran, Yann a metre back. All were pushing ahead now, as Gaia and Clara dropped further back. The mainland was not far, maybe half a mile and they would be there. They could feel it approaching, as its silhouette dominated the skyline before them. Gaia could make out the beach, a small building, a gatepost and a barrier. It was within their reach, but the water was rising fast, and was now above the knees.
Gaia heard a splash and looked behind. Clara had fallen, was on her knees, the water up to her chest. Gaia ran back. Clara was exhausted, close to finished, gasping for air, no longer wanting to carry on. The freezing water was paralysing them, and Clara was not sure if she could move any further. Gaia reached out her hand.
‘Come on Clara. We’ve got to keep moving. We’re nearly there.’
‘I’ve done something to my leg. I think I’ve snagged it on something. You go on. I just need a moment. I’ll catch you.’
‘No! I’m not leaving you. You’re only here because of me. Take my hand. We can do this together. Come on!’
Clara put her head back and inhaled a huge gasp of air. She sighed and grabbed Gaia’s arm, letting her take the weight as Clara struggled to her feet. Clara winced and cried as she felt a stabbing pain run through her leg. Her leg buckled as she put some weight on it. Clara stumbled, but Gaia caught her, and dragged her back to her feet. Gaia arched her body, and bent her knees so Clara could use her as a human crutch, taking as much of the pressure from the injured leg.
‘How bad is it?’
‘I should be OK. You may need to take most of the weight though.’
‘Does it feel broken?’
‘I don’t think so, but it stings like hell. I’m bleeding.’
‘Let’s just get to the mainland and we’ll patch you up there. You’re going to be OK. I’m sorry.’
Clara looked away, ignoring the apology. Gaia took Clara’s weight again as they edged forward. The others had stopped further ahead. Aran’s voice could be heard echoing in the distance. The others had almost reached the shore, and were now in the shallow waters of the final stretch onto the beach.
‘Is everything OK? There isn’t far to go. We’re nearly there.’
‘Keep going. We’ll be fine.’
Gaia and Clara battled on through the rising waters, edging onward step by step, almost falling several times. The water was so high now they could not make out the road at all. The route ahead was gone, all they could see was water well above waist high. Clara seemed to get heavier as she tired and the water deepened. Gaia was dragging her through the icy sea that now engulfed them. Walking was laboured, and they had reached the point where they could no longer go on foot.
‘Will you be able to swim? That’s going to be the best way now.’
‘I’ll try, but I won’t be able to do much with this leg.’
They began to paddle towards the shore. Clara was a strong swimmer, they all were, and though her injured leg was useless her strong upper body and other leg were effective. Clara looked more comfortable now, far more than walking. The mainland was close, and the others had made it to the beach. Gaia could hear them shouting words of guidance and encouragement from the shore. She could just make out the three dark silhouettes. Gaia dived forward into the freezing water, knowing that the biggest danger would be the temperature. No matter how fit or strong a swimmer the body could shut down with the shock, slipping into a downward spiral of paralysis and drowning. The water was not that deep, but the cold meant anything was possible. Gaia’s body was numb and shivering already, but it meant submerging in the icy waters was not such a shock. It gave her some time, not much, but maybe enough.
Gaia stretched her arms forward, pulling herself closer to the shore stroke by stroke. Her legs kicked as best they could, though most of the feeling in them had gone. As she moved, her mind began to drift, still trying to stay focused on the strokes, one by one. Gaia slipped into a half dream, a cold delirium, here in the water, but somewhere else. Visions flashed through her head, random images of memories, dark, distant memories, of shadows.
Gaia was in a room, in a glass box. She was tiny, lying on her back, just a baby, aware of movement around her, but helpless. There were sounds, unfamiliar at first and difficult to fathom. The baby was reaching out, trying to get attention, crying. Gaia could hear her muffled cries as they echoed around the glass chamber. No-one came, no-one saw to her, no-one comforted her. A light glared above Gaia’s head, an intense, blazing light, dazzling her eyes, blinding her. She was not alone, and could make out shadows moving beyond the glass. There were other glass boxes in the room, many of them. The other sounds became clearer. They were cries, like her own, all smothered by the glass walls of the individual cells. These were the first prison cells of each young child, each baby, each life. It was the beginning of what was to come, the beginning of their unfolding future.
Gaia felt something scrape against her legs and lower body. She put her hands down in the sea, and could feel the ground below her. It was solid ground. Her mouth was filled with water, her lungs desperate for air. Gaia’s stomach felt heavy with the salty liquid, as nausea swept through her. Someone grabbed her arm and shoulders, one at each side. Gaia was being dragged from the sea, her cold, exhausted body. Her legs were limp and useless dragging behind. The others turned Gaia over onto her side, as she gasped for air, lungs burning with each icy breath, Gaia coughed and vomited, a mixture of the bitter, salty sea and acidic stomach bile. Rolling onto her back, Gaia opened her eyes and saw the outlines of dark shadows standing over. There were voices. Loud, frantic cries some near, some far. Her mind was struggling to make sense of the surroundings. There was no glass chamber, no blazing light, only the moon. The large crystal moon was a pure, brilliant white. A light hanging in the sky, smiling down at her. The memories came flooding back, the island, the beach, the causeway, the escape. Gaia was on the mainland. They had made it. This was the beach, the coarse sand touching her hands. Gaia remembered Clara, and heard the cries, the frantic cries, the distant cries, the echoes in the night. They were calling her name: ‘Clara! Clara!‘ Gaia gasped for air and muttered some words.
‘Is Clara OK? Did she make it? Clara! Clara!’
Gaia heard a voice. It was one of the shadows above talking, comforting her, trying to calm her. It was a girl’s voice, but not Clara’s. It was Freya.
‘Try to stay calm Gaia. You made it. You’re safe now. Stay awake though. If you feel yourself going don’t. Look at me and concentrate on my voice. Listen to me Gaia. Stay with us.’
Gaia felt Freya strike her face a couple of times. They were firm slaps, more than enough to shock, but not to hurt. Gaia still felt the sting on her icy cheeks. Gaia whispered to Freya.
‘What about Clara? Did she make it?’
‘Don’t worry about Clara for now. Aran and Yann are looking for her.’
‘What do you mean looking for her? Is she OK?’
Gaia tried to sit up, but her body was aching and exhausted, the muscles and bones weak. Her mind was sending the signals, but they were dead, cut off by the cold and tiredness. Freya put her hand on Gaia’s shoulder.
‘Don’t Gaia. Rest. There’s nothing you can do. Aran and Yann will find her.’
Gaia lay there listening to Freya’s words. Freya was close, but the words seemed distant, echoes floating into the night air. Gaia waited, her body still stiff and aching, waiting for news of Clara. That’s all Gaia wanted to hear and know, that Clara was found, safe.
The minutes themselves seemed wrapped in the same blanket of freezing paralysis. They hung in limbo, the crumbling sands of the hourglass trapped inside a glass tomb. The world had stopped turning, the moon paused in its journey across the sky, no longer sliding through the night and plunging into the horizon. All was lifeless, still. Everything waited for the sign, the moment when time could move on again. They were all waiting for Clara.
Freya knelt beside Gaia. Freya was silent now, her words had dissolved into the blackness. Two shadows approached, their heads dropped, shoulders lowered in sorrow and dismay. They stood over Freya and Gaia. Both were numb, not wanting to speak, not wishing to utter the words, to confirm what they all knew. Gaia asked the question.
‘Did you find her?’
There was a pause, long and silent. There was no wind, no breath, no sound, nothing. Time remained frozen. They were all locked together in this moment. Aran crouched down and took Gaia’s hand.
‘I’m sorry Gaia. We couldn’t save her. We tried. I nearly had her but something happened.’
Aran’s voice trailed off in despair, faltering and fading to a cracked whisper. Gaia spoke, her voice calm, resigned to what she had known. The full impact had not yet sunk into her exhausted mind.
‘What do you mean something happened?’
‘I don’t know. She just disappeared. We’ve looked everywhere up and down the shoreline, but there was nothing.’
Gaia struggled to process the words. She unpicked them, twisted them, turned them over and over again in her head. They were clear, but there was something missing. However much she rolled them over still they meant the same thing. Clara was gone, but how? All she kept hearing was I’m sorry. Something happened. She just disappeared. There was nothing. Something happened. Something happened. She just disappeared. What did he mean? She spoke again, her voice more desperate.
