Becoming

by Chris Ord

  ‘What about the ramparts? They’re a few levels lower. The jump won’t be so high.’

  Freya stared at the ramparts, thought about Aran’s suggestion. There was a problem.

  ‘The rats can get onto them. We’d be exposed.’

  ‘Yes, but the only access is through the turret or those steps over there. We’ll draw them to the turret and lock the door. Once we’re sure they’re all there we can move onto the ramparts and jump. We’ll have some time to get up there and jump. Even if they spot the steps we can be over before they get up there. That’s our best chance.’

  Freya looked at each of the group in turn. Aran’s plan was sound, but Freya wanted the approval of the others. Yann shrugged, Gaia and Aran looked at each other and nodded. Gaia spoke.

  ‘I say we go for it. It’s the best option we have. None of us are up for a fight. There’s too many of them.’

  Freya nodded.

  ‘OK. Let’s make a move. Stay low and they might not spot us.’

  Freya climbed up onto the edge of the pit and crept across the grass. The others followed. They each looked across at the rats who continued to bask and play, oblivious of the groups movements. Gaia noticed one of the younger rodents stop playing. Its head twitched, and pointed straight at Gaia. It was only a second, but somehow seemed longer as the rat waited, then began to run towards the group. The other young rats followed, the adults stirred and were soon in pursuit. The creatures had spotted Gaia and the others far sooner than they would have liked. Gaia shouted and began to sprint towards the turret.

  ‘They’re coming. Move!’

  Freya was close behind Gaia, then Yann and Aran. The door to the turret was within reach, perhaps twenty metres, but the rats were fast. The creatures were hungry and hunting. Once the rats had spotted prey they became rabid and frenzied, desperation fueling a demonic adrenalin. The adults had now overtaken the young, their long, rapid strides eating up the earth, narrowing the gap between hunter and hunted. Gaia reached the door first and kicked it open. Freya followed. Yann and Aran still had a few metres to go, with the first of the adult rats just behind. Gaia could see their huge teeth, mouths open, salivating, ready to wrap themselves around their prey, preparing to lock tight and rip them to shreds.

  Yann and Aran plunged through the door, just as the first adult rat dived towards them. Gaia and Freya slammed the door shut and felt a thud against it. The two girls pressed all their weight against the door as Yann scrambled to bolt it shut. Everyone stepped back and looked at the door, listening to the banging and scratching. There was frantic hammering and screeching from the rats, a sound the group were all familiar with, but had not heard for days. It was a noise the young people had hoped they would never hear again. The door was bulging, the hinges strained. Freya looked at Gaia, grave concern scratched into her face. Freya shouted above the din of the attack.

  ‘Let’s hope it holds out.’

  Freya ran up the stairs while Yann and Aran pressed against the door trying to ease the pressure as it was battered from the other side. The deafening screeches continued, more frequent and frenzied than ever. Freya soon returned and took command.

  ‘They’re all at the door, so we need to move quickly. The drop’s better from the right of the ramparts. As soon as we’re over head for the woods at the bottom. At the far side I can see a church. We’ll run for that. Let’s go.’

  Freya continued to lead, able to switch into a measured efficiency, the result of years of training. Yann seemed unfazed, almost enjoying the excitement. While Aran looked strained, the demands of this and the last few days were taking a toll. Gaia managed to smother the emotion, knowing control and precise thinking were the key to survival.

  Freya led them up the stone stairs. They were narrow, steep and slippy, the morning frost on their shoes making the stone like ice. Gaia lost her footing several times as she clambered up behind Freya and Aran. Gaia could feel Yann at her back, bumping into her as she stumbled. The group came to the doorway that led onto the ramparts. Freya was already standing by one of the gaps in the walls. Looking over the edge, Freya threw her rucksack down and without hesitation jumped. Gaia peered over and saw Freya land on the grassy surface below, rolling forward and tumbling down the hill in a series of short, swift rolls. The jump was higher than Gaia had anticipated, but it was too late to back out. The alternative was far worse, the choice determined by a lack of real options.

  Gaia dropped her rucksack over the edge and lowered herself down the wall. Her fingertips gripped the edge of the rough, cold stonework, body stretched, toes pointing to the earth below. Gaia let go and recalling her training, relaxed. The body had a natural tendency to tense which was more likely to lead to injury. It was better to concentrate on easing the muscles. In the split seconds of the fall Gaia tried to focus her mind.

  Gaia hit the ground feet first, let her legs collapse and dived onto her side. She tumbled, head reeling, the sound of the air and crashing body loud in her ears. Something struck Gaia in the side. It was solid, probably a rock, a jabbing pain shot through her. Winded and struggling to breath Gaia was still hurtling down the hill. She tried to slow the rolls, careful not to extend her arms in case they became trapped. The seconds seemed much longer as Gaia plunged forward. After what seemed an age the tumbling slowed and stopped. Gaia lay still, dizzy, disorientated, and trying to catch her breath. A switch clicked in Gaia’s mind, the survival instinct triggered. Jumping to her feet Gaia looked around. She saw Freya just a few yards away, crouched, rucksack on her back, looking shaken, but still alert and poised, waiting for the others. She looked like a coiled spring, ready to confront the rats, waiting to be unleashed. Freya approached Gaia.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I think so. I hit a rock coming down, but I don’t think anything is broken. It just winded me. I’ll be fine once I get my breath back.’

  They looked up the hill, back at the ramparts. Aran had already jumped and was cascading down the hill like a boulder, plunging head first. He bounced, hit the side of the hill and flew high into the air landing with a thud a few metres from Gaia and Freya. Gaia leapt to him as he lay in a heap on the grass, dazed and groaning, but still conscious. Aran’s hair was soaked, filled with flecks of grass and heather.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘I should be fine. Help me up, will you?’

  Gaia helped Aran to his feet, and he hobbled across to gather his rucksack, shaking his head in an attempt to cast off the dizzy haze. Gaia looked across at Freya who was staring up at the ramparts, a worried look on her face. Gaia followed Freya’s eyeline and saw Yann still up there, looking down, ready to jump. Something was wrong. Yann’s body was frozen, his face locked in panic. Freya cupped her hands and hollered, her voice quivering with desperation.

  ‘Jump Yann. Don’t look, just jump. Come on.’

  Gaia could see the rats. Their large, black, hairy bodies were zipping by, a series of flashes as they passed each gap in the ramparts. The creatures were bearing down on Yann, and would be upon him in seconds. He still seemed paralysed with fear, unaware that the rodents were almost upon him. Gaia screamed at Yann.

  ‘Yann. They’re coming, jump, JUMP!’

  For a fraction of a second Yann looked frozen, staring below in a vacant haze. Something stirred and he seemed to hear Gaia’s words. Yann came to, snapped free, and realised the creatures were almost there. He grabbed the sides of the ramparts, and was just about to jump when the first of the rats dived. Gaia saw the rodent’s body thrust through the air like a missile, its jaws open wide, ready to lock onto their target. The creature caught him, its teeth plunged into Yann’s throat. The force of the assault hurled them both over the edge. Man and beast hurtled to the ground, locked together, Yann grabbing at his throat, trying to pull the rat from him as the creature writhed and flailed, its jaws locked in a deadly grip.

  Time seemed to slow as Yann and the creature fell. Gaia could see every movement of their macabre dance, every expression of a
gony on Yann’s face, every frenzied jerk of the rat’s neck and jaws. Blood was gushing from Yann’s wound, and he screamed as they hit the earth and began to roll. The rat was still locked on Yann’s throat ripping and sucking the life from him. Aran and Freya began to run towards him, but stopped. Gaia was frozen in horror. The other rats were staring over the edge of the castle walls, ready to jump, but still tentative, waiting. Gaia knew the creatures would jump. The hesitation was instinctive, but the hunger was stronger, the desire to feed overwhelming. The rats would see and smell the blood, inviting them, urging them on. Time was edging forward, second by second, in a blurred slow motion. The rats would jump and, in an instant be upon the group. The rodents were gathering, the opportunity of escape was slipping away.

  Gaia, Freya and Aran looked on in desperation and horror, as Yann was torn apart. Gaia watched as the life was ripped from his face and body. The remaining three knew it was too late. Once the jaws had locked onto Yann’s throat it was when and not if. The moment Yann and the creature hit the earth it was over, the injuries fatal. Yann stopped fighting, every ounce of energy had gone, every last piece of life dissolved. Gaia and the others had to run, preserve themselves. The rats were coming and it was all about survival. It always had been, and always would be. Gaia barked at the others.

  ‘Leave him. He’s gone. Come on. Run!’

  Freya had paused, tempted to attack the rats, exact revenge for the killing. Her killer instinct wrestled with the urge to survive at all costs. Yann and his killer were only metres away, but the rat paid her no attention, still tearing at Yann’s throat. Yann was limp, soaked in a blanket of his own blood. Freya knew it was over. To attack was futile. She could kill the rat, but that would cost time, and time was their only hope now. Freya snapped out of the lust for revenge and grabbed Aran. He too had thoughts of settling scores, had the urge to attack. Freya tugged at Aran’s arm, pleading.

  ‘It’s no use Aran, we have to save ourselves. Let’s go.’

  Aran’s head dropped into his hands. He began to shake and quiver. He was losing his grip, his mind was crumbling, losing all sense of hope. Freya yanked at Aran’s arm again, and began to drag him away. Something in the back of his brain told him there was still a chance. The panic began to dissolve, Aran’s mind regained control. Now was not the time for risks, it was the time to run, to preserve life, to survive. Emotion was weakness. Action was strength.

  The rats on the rampart were beginning to make their move. A creature’s long claws and head were over the side, scratching and feeling its way down the stone walls. It fell, flying through the air towards the hillside. This was the trigger for the others, the tumble of the first domino. Another rat followed, then another, and another. The adults dived first, then the young. Even in the throws of their murderous frenzy they had a deference to order and hierarchy. It was programming, instinct, the natural way. Without order there was chaos, and in chaos there was weakness. The rats were the same as Gaia, Freya, Aran, and Yann They were all programmed to survive, hunter or hunted, kill or be killed.

  Freya and Aran ran towards Gaia, passing her, as all three sprinted towards the woods. Gaia caught a glimpse over her shoulder. The last of the rats had hurled themselves from the ramparts. The creatures that had landed were huddled around the body of Yann, feasting on flesh, the blood still warm and fresh. Gaia felt sick, the image of Yann’s face flashing through her mind, his smile laid back and carefree. Yann was not made for this world. Chaos was his beauty; innocence the weakness that destroyed him. Yann was for the old world, not here, not this moment.

  The group charged on towards the woods, the only urge to survive. They were building a gap, putting as much distance as they could between them and the rats. The creatures were still devouring Yann, locked in a feeding frenzy. At the moment the rats wallowed in the rampant delirium of a fresh kill, but soon that would be gone and the rodents would know more human flesh was waiting, escaping.

  15

  Now there were three, sprinting towards the woods and the church beyond. Legs pumped hard, the grass and heather heavy with morning dew made the going tough. They were tired, but the hunger to live matched the hunger of the rats for blood. The group had a good head start, and the church was near. If they could reach it and lock themselves inside they could sit it out, and wait till the rats grew hungry and moved on. Gaia looked back over her shoulder. The rats had begun their pursuit, but had left it late. They were too overcome by their feasting, the sweet warm flesh and blood. That was gone and the creatures sensed more prey. The rats were faster and better suited for this terrain. The three still had time, precious time, now more precious than ever. Gaia kept pushing forward, Freya and Aran still just ahead. They reached the woods and zig-zagged through the few, sparse trees making it easier to navigate and plot a path. The three were almost there, the stone wall of the churchyard metres away.

  Freya and Aran leapt the wall into the graveyard, followed by Gaia. The headstones were broken and neglected, the graves overgrown. The long forgotten relics of the past lay tattered in a garden of buried memories, and love that no longer survived. The group darted in, out and over the graves towards the door of the church. Freya reached it first, hurling herself against it and trying the handle. It was locked. Aran and Gaia reached her, as all three gasped for air. The rats had not yet entered the churchyard, and still could not be seen for the wall. Soon the creatures would be here and once they leapt the wall Gaia and the others had only seconds.

  Freya stepped out from the stone arch of the doorway. She surveyed the roof, and set off around the church, Gaia and Aran close behind. At the head of the church was a tower, at its base a wooden door. Freya tried the handle, but again it was locked. She moved to the side of the tower and clambered up a drainpipe onto the roof.

  ‘Come on, climb up here.’

  Freya reached down and helped Gaia. Aran followed with Gaia’s help. All three crept up the steep, slate tiled roof which was damp and covered in green moss. They hugged the slates, dragging themselves to the pitch of the roof, where they sat and straddled legs either side. Gaia spoke.

  ‘What now?’

  Freya was looking along the line of the roof to the bell tower. Just up from the highest point of the roof was a window. It was not within easy reach, but with some help from the others one of them would be able to get to it. Gaia looked down into the graveyard, could see nothing, but heard scratching and intermittent shrieks. The rats had reached the church and were down below. The creatures would not be able to climb onto the roof, their size made them too heavy and cumbersome to climb these walls. The three were safe for now, but knew they could not stay on the roof too long. They had to get inside.

  Freya led the others, shimmying along the roofline to the window. Aran put his back against the wall, remaining seated. He cupped his hands into a cradle and Freya stepped into them and onto his shoulders. The extra height was just enough to allow her to reach the window. Freya used her knife to lift the latch and pulled herself through. Peering out over the ledge she beckoned to Gaia who stepped into the cradle, onto the shoulders, and pulled herself head first through the window. Gaia lunged forward and fell in a heap on the hard stone floor. Freya lowered a blanket. Aran clutched it and walked up the wall, as she pulled him through to safety. Aran and Gaia lay on the floor, exhausted and relieved they had made it. Freya closed the window and sat down beside the others.

  The stone chamber echoed with their breathing. Each lay against the wall, perched upright, overcome with emotion. The realisation of what had happened began to seep in and the initial sense of relief was soon replaced by sorrow. Aran put his head in his hands and wept. Gaia wrapped her arms around him, feeling his sobbing against her breast. She gripped Aran’s head, pressed it hard into her chest, longing to take away the pain. She felt the same burning pain, heartache, and desperation. Aran would feel this more than the others. It was his mission and idea, his leadership and responsibility. Aran had approached Yann, handpicked h
im to join the group. Yann’s loss was Aran’s burden.

  ‘Just let it out Aran. It’s hard to take in. I can’t believe he’s gone.’

  ‘It’s my fault. Yann was only here because of me. I should never’ve let him come.’

  Gaia rubbed her fingers through Aran’s soft hair, feeling his gentle sobbing between muffled words. Freya sat with her eyes closed, silent. Gaia continued her attempts to comfort Aran.

  ‘Don’t blame yourself. Yann knew the risks. We all did. We all chose to be here. There’s nothing any of us could have done. Just remember him as he was.’

  Gaia stopped. Maybe her words were futile. The truth is she did not really know who Yann was. She had only known him a few days. The group had been thrust together through circumstances, the connection simply a necessity, an unspoken contract. Yet, the intensity of their situation and the time they had spent together had given colour to Yann’s character. The time had been short, but they had already lived a lifetime together. Gaia knew these moments were life-defining, the experiences special. These were the times that memories were formed.

  The past few days Gaia had developed a genuine warmth for her companions. Her interactions with people had always been defined by others. There was a wall, but this went beyond that. Gaia’s feelings for Aran were strong and growing, something different again. Even Freya, who Gaia hated at first had shown strength and loyalty. Freya had moved from an enemy to someone Gaia would trust with her life. Gaia had been wrong. Yann had been the quietest of them all, and in many ways the most difficult to understand. His peace and tranquility were humbling to Gaia. Yann saw the joy in life whatever chaos threw at him. His bubble was a protection, but there was a charm and appeal to such free spirit. The world was full of pain and danger, suffering and despair. Yann looked beyond and saw the beauty. Yann and the others had helped to thaw Gaia’s icy heart.