by M J Porter
Chapter One
Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart hammered against her ribs. An adrenalin rush deadened her legs as she crouched behind the rough breezeblock wall making herself as small as possible in the confined space in an effort to conceal herself.
She was not alone. In the dull gloom of the late night she could make out at least four other shapes, all doing exactly the same as her. Behind her she felt more than saw the presence of more people and they were all as frightened as she was.
Frantically she tried to slow her rapid breathing, and force a sense of calm upon herself. But it was impossible.
Where was she?
Why was she here?
And who were all these other people?
She felt a hand squeeze her own and glanced forward to see the face of a young man bent low to her. His eyes were shadowed and hooded in the gloom, worry plain to see on his exhilarated face, and yet when he spoke, there was warmth there clearly intended just for her.
Who was he?
“I can see the scouts,” he whispered, “as soon as they’re gone, we’ll make a run for it.”
Belatedly she became aware of the whup whupping sound of a helicopter near by. Was it the scouts that he spoke off?
He turned back to glance over the shoulders of the people in front of him, never releasing her hand that he held clamped firmly in his own.
His skin felt hard and roughened around hers, his hand big and warm, enveloping her own. With her other hand she brushed hair back from her face, and noticed as it swept her face that her own skin was just as rough and calloused.
What had caused it?
In the dim light she could not tell the colour of her own hair, but noted that she wore a wool hat, pulled low about her ears to shield her from the frigid wind that blew around her. She shivered, her warmth from whatever exertion she’d forgotten she’d been doing, evaporating as panic gripped her.
Who was she?
Why was she here?
Why could she remember nothing apart from the last few seconds?
The boy with her clearly cared for her but she didn’t know his name.
The people she was with were, like her, running from something. But from what?
Terror engulfed her, forcing her breath to come in ragged bursts that broke painfully from her tight chest and she gulped back a strangled cry.
The boy in front turned to look at her in concern. He leaned close to her, his breath warm on her chill face.
“Don’t panic now, it’ll be fine. Just stay with me for a few minutes longer. The scouts will be gone soon and the alarm won’t be raised until daylight returns.”
He smiled at her, his eyes lightening and his worry wiped from his face. He almost looked handsome.
She smiled involuntarily at him, wanting to reassure him although he’d not offered her any form of comfort.
He leant toward her and kissed her forehead where her hat was pulled low. She closed her eyes at his touch and took a moment to breathe deeply of his scent. She recognized the smell of him, even though she didn’t recognize him.
A flashback, instant and disorientating; he held her in his arms and littered her face with kisses before holding her tight and pressing his lips to her pliant lips that responded to his every movement.
A sudden tug on her arm reminded her of where she was, a quiet word, and then she was running again, her back bowed low to the floor as she ran forward, the sound of the others behind her muffled.
She ran blindly, not knowing where she was going, with only his hand in hers to guide her, with little light to see by.
Beneath her feet the ground changed from hard packed earth to tufty pieces of grass, treacherous in the half-light.
In front of her the boy she followed offered her a steady stream of instructions,
“Watch that hole there, look out for that outcropping of grass,” and then silence and abruptly she ran into him and he huffed in pain as her head impacted with his back. Glancing upwards she saw what had stopped him and her heart froze.
Before them and down the slope of the hill they were traversing stood a line of uniformed people, holding guns tight to their chests, aimed at the strangled line of fugitives behind her and in front of her. Harsh lights blared into action and suddenly she could see nothing of the armed people but felt the fake heat from the over bright lights.
“Shit,” the boy said. She wanted to ask more but appreciated that now wasn’t the time.
He turned to her, hopeless loss on his face, tears in his deep brown eyes, his auburn hair falling into his eyes. He grabbed her by the shoulders, and he cupped her unresisting head between his hands,
“Sorry,” he whispered, leaning his head so that their foreheads touched. The heat of him warmed her cold body.
She smiled desperate to erase the sadness she saw in his face,
“For what,” she whispered back.
Tears streamed down his face and he choked on his words.
“I love you,” he stuttered, ‘you were right and I was wrong and I’m so sorry.”
Confused and unsure of what to say or what to do, she gazed into his deep eyes aware of nothing but him, and she leaned into him, instinct taking the place of her unease and lack of knowledge.
“I forgive you,” she said quietly, and his face cleared at her words.
Belatedly she became aware of the screams of those around her, and the whoosh of the armed men and women walking amongst the motley collection of people. What were they doing?
A yank on her arm, and she was pulled away from the boy with the beautiful eyes. He was pulled from her too and as he was led away he didn’t turn to look where he walked over the rough surface but instead stayed entirely focused on her.
“I love you,” he called, and she did the only thing she could think of, calling back,
“I love you too.”
He smiled, a heartbreaking smile of joy and hope.
“You’ve never told me that before Frey. I love you too. See you on the other side.”
His words stopped her in her tracks, and no matter the pushing or shoving coming from whomever held her, she didn’t move. She watched him disappear down the hill, his eyes never leaving her face, as he was bundled inside a wheeled vehicle that gleamed grey in the bright lights. He was forcibly moved inside and the vehicle abruptly took to the skies in a whoosh of air and screeching metal. She watched in fascinated silence, ignoring the presence stood behind her who’d finally stopped trying to force her to walk towards the other vehicle where the stream of the people behind her were being escorted to.
“Where’s he going?”
“You know the answer to that you stupid girl, now come on. Move Frey.”
Doing exactly the opposite she turned to stare into the concealed face of the person who held her.
“You know my name?”
“Of course I know your name. The whole of humanity knows your name. Now, if it’s not too much trouble can you get into the vehicle?”
The voice was sarcastic and she thought it was probably a man who spoke. But she couldn’t be sure as whomever spoke was covered from head to toe in a padded uniform that ended in a helmet that covered their entire face.
“The whole of humanity knows my name?” she whispered as she walked down the steep slope. Who the hell was she and what the hell was going on?
Read on Unknown Part 1 and Part 2 now available
Meet the author
Enjoyed Blue Diamond? Then please try either the Unknown Serial or the Dragon of Unison Series, a fantasy series roughly based on Viking Age Iceland with a dragon, a wolf and two humans for main characters. Blue Diamond started life a number of years ago as an idea for a novel but has morphed into a short story.
M J Porter is (mainly) an author of historical fiction novels set in later (and now earlier)
Anglo-Saxon England. A keen history student, M J Porter has just completed an MA in History with an emphasis on primary source materia
l and the way information is transmitted through time.
M J Porter can be found on twitter @coloursofunison, on Facebook, at www.mjporterauthor.co.uk, www.dragonofunison.co.uk, www.earlsofmercia.co.uk and www.patreon.com/mjporter.
Books by M J Porter (in series reading order)
The Dragon of Unison Series
Purple
Blue
Green
Red
Black
Silver
Orange (coming soon)
The Unknown Serial (young adult sci fi)
Part 1
Part 2
Stand alone short story (young adult supernatural)
Blue Sapphire
The Earls of Mercia (historical fiction)
Ealdorman
Ealdormen
Swein: The Danish King (novella)
Northman Part 1
Cnut: The Conqueror
Northman Part 2
Wulfstan: An Anglo-Saxon Thegn (novella)
The King’s Earl
The Earl of Mercia
Chronicles of the English (historical fiction)
Brunanburh
Of Kings and Half-Kings
The Second English King
Gods and Kings Series (historical fiction)
Hæ∂feld
Maserfeld
Winwæd
