by Kevin Brooks
And then suddenly I froze, all thoughts of rocks and if-onlys gone.
A lone figure was crossing the courtyard, heading towards the hatchway.
I quickly crawled back behind the log pile, making sure I was out of sight, then I leaned in close to a gap in the logs and peered out at the courtyard. The figure Ide seen was about halfway across now. I hadnt actually seen him coming out of the fort, but that was the direction he was coming from, and I could tell from the way he was stumbling and swaying that he was intoxicated. He was a stocky figure, about 18 years old, and even at a distance it was obvious he was a man of means. He was dressed in a long fur coat over what looked like a velvet tunic, with high-quality leather boots and a skullcap decorated with a band of jewels. I couldnt see if he had a firearm or not, but the goldtopped cane he was carrying looked like a swordstick, and he also had a magnificent cutlass in a silver scabbard attached to the belt of his tunic. He was leaning heavily on his cane as he walked, trying to keep his balance, and he was carrying a large pewter tankard which every now and then hede raise to his mouth and try to drink from, but he was so drunk that he spilled most of it down his chin. Despite his pathetic drunkenness, he still had the unmistakable swagger and confidence of a man who always gets what he wants.
And it wasnt hard to guess what he wanted right now.
The guard at the hatchway had seen him, and from the look of fear in his eyes – and the fact that he was suddenly standing at attention – it was clear that the drunk man was his superior. The drunkard was only about 10 yards from him now, and in a few moments he was going to tell him to unlock the hatch, and the guard would do it immediately and without question, and then the drunk man would be stumbling down into Chola Ses prison to do whatever he wanted with her---
I could see her down there.
Cowering on a filthy bed, trembling with fear and rage, her battered face streaked with bloodstained tears---
I had to force myself to stay still.
Stay calm.
I had to quiet my roaring heart.
And think.
Cold and hard.
Just think.
I looked over at the guard, studying his weapons – AK47 assault rifle, 9-shot Browning automatic, hunting knife in his belt. I glanced across at the fort. The Fighter in the watchtower was looking this way, grinning casually as he watched the drunk man. Just then I heard the slurred grunt of a voice, a low and ugly sound, and when I looked back at the hatchway I saw the guard hurriedly taking a key from his belt while the drunk man just stood there, his upper body wavering, waiting for his command to be obeyed.
Think.
My sling was useless without ammunition, which meant I was going to have to use my knife. But I couldnt rush the 2 men now. Even if I could reach the guard before he had time to arm himself with one of his guns, the sentry in the watchtower would see me and raise the alarm, and that would be the end of it.
All I could do was wait.
I waited as the guard opened the hatch and the drunk man stepped down inside, almost immediately losing his balance and lurching sideways. The guard quickly stooped down and grasped his arm to stop him falling, but once hede helped the drunk man straighten up again, the only thanks he got was a drunken curse – get your hands off me! – and a flailing arm thrown at his head, which he leaned away from and easily avoided. I carried on waiting, watching as the drunk man continued his awkward descent, until eventually his head disappeared below the surface and the guard peered down after him to make sure hede gone, and then – with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head – he closed the hatch again. As he straightened up and looked across at his colleague in the watchtower, ostentatiously shrugging his shoulders, I followed his gaze and saw the guard in the watchtower grinning back at him and giving him a mock salute. I waited, trying not to think about what was happening under the ground just a few yards away from me---
Chola Se cowering---trembling---
No.
Her lips drawn back in a vicious snarl---
No.
She was dog. Shede fight. Shede give me time.
I waited, my gaze alternating between the 2 guards – the one at the hatchway, the one in the watchtower – waiting for the right moment – hatchway, tower---hatchway, tower--- hatchway---
A loud crash came from the fort, followed almost instantly by an outburst of cheering and laughing, and the guard in the tower immediately turned away and looked down, his attention drawn to whatever it was that was going on down below. At the same time, the hatchway guard relaxed for a moment, turning his back on me as he raised his arms behind his head and stretched his back.
This was it, the moment Ide been waiting for.
I drew my knife, stepped out from behind the logs, and began racing towards the guard. Within a few seconds I was already halfway there, but just as I was beginning to think that I might make it all the way without being seen, the guard suddenly spun round. I dont know what alerted him – I hadnt made a sound – but somehow hede sensed my presence. I was still a good 7 or 8 yards from him now, and hede reacted so quickly that he already had his rifle raised to his shoulder and was about to pull the trigger. If hede relied solely on instinct and fired without hesitation I wouldnt have stood a chance, but instead he made the fatal mistake of pausing for a fraction of a second to steady his aim before taking the shot, and a fraction of a second was all I needed. Without missing a step or even slowing down, I whipped back my arm and threw the knife. It spun through the air and thudded almost silently into the guards chest, just missing his heart. An inch or 2 to the right and he would have died instantly, but it was still a serious wound – the knife buried deep in his flesh – and as the rifle fell from his hands and he dropped to his knees, clutching his chest, I knew he was badly injured. But I also knew that it wasnt over yet. It wouldnt be over until he was dead.
I carried on running, risking a glance at the watchtower – the sentry was still distracted – and a moment later I was bearing down on the wounded guard. The life was visibly draining out of him – his skin deathly pale, his eyes glazed over – but he wasnt giving up without a fight, and by the time I reached him hede already fumbled his pistol from his holster and was raising his arm to shoot. I lashed out with my foot, kicking the gun from his hand, but just as I was swinging round to kick him again, this time in his head, he whipped out his hunting knife with his left hand and plunged it into my leg. The shock of it numbed the pain, but the impact knocked me off balance, and as I stumbled sideways he lunged at me with the knife again. I leaped back just in time, avoiding the slashing blade by inches, and in the same movement I leaned down and scooped up his fallen rifle. He went for me again, swinging wildly with the knife, but his strength was fading rapidly now and he missed me by a long way. As his flailing arm threw him off balance, I sprang forward and hammered the rifle butt into his head. I put all my weight into it, clubbing him so hard that I heard the dull crack of bone, and as he fell to the ground I knew he was dead.
I quickly looked across at the watchtower again. The guard was engrossed in trying to catch a bottle that someone below was throwing up to him. He kept missing it, either because it wasnt thrown high enough, or it was too far away for him to reach. Each time he almost caught it, a cheer from below turned into a groan.
I stooped down over the dead guard, rolled him over, put my foot on his chest and yanked my knife from his body. Then I dragged the body over to the hatchway, laid it down again, and opened the unlocked hatch. A steep flight of wooden steps led down into some kind of chamber about 10 feet below. I couldnt see all of it, just the section of dirt floor and bare walls directly below, but there was clearly more to it than I could see because a torchlight was burning somewhere out of sight, and I could hear muffled sounds coming from farther back, ominously ugly sounds – a slurred curse, a savage grunt, the sudden dull slap of a violent blow---
I pulled the guards body over to the hatchway and heaved it down into the chamber. As it clatter
ed and thumped down the steps, I stood up straight, positioned myself on the edge of the hatchway, and jumped.
The moment I hit the ground everything suddenly froze, and in that frozen moment I was nothing but dog. I could see and hear and smell and feel every tiny detail of everything there was – all together, all at once.
And its all still with me now.
The doorway ahead of me at the far end of the chamber, the heavy wooden door wide open, showing the cramped and squalid cell behind it, dimly lit by the flamelight of a torch on the wall. The big iron key in the lock of the door, the small square window cut in the wood about threequarters of the way up, secured with a grid of iron bars. And inside the cell, the filthy little bed in the corner – just a dirty scrape of blanket thrown on the ground – and the overturned water bowl beside it---and in the opposite corner the shallow tin bucket almost overflowing with human waste, filling the stale underground air with the sickening stink of degradation. And the other smells too---all mixed up together in the used-up air thats been breathed too many times – blood, alcohol, sweat, vomit, sex---odors of human brutality.
And I can see Chola Se---
I can see her---splayed out on the ground, almost naked, the ragged pink dress ripped and torn and hanging off her in bloodstained shreds---her manacled wrists chained to an iron stake fixed to the ground in the middle of the cell---her face battered and bruised, bleeding from a fresh gash on the side of her head---her upper lip split open, her eyes blackened, one of them swollen shut---
And her body---so beaten and abused---
The only part of her that isnt beaten is her spirit. I can see it in her vicious snarl, the snarl Ide imagined so many times – her lips drawn back, her bared teeth red with blood – and most of all I can see it in her eyes---the fire, the ferocity, the will to keep fighting as long as shese still alive, the willingness to die before giving herself up to the drunk man---
I can still see him too.
Standing over her, naked from the waist down, his goldtopped cane raised above his head, ready to strike her again---his slobbering mouth, his twisted grin, his glazed eyes sick with lust---
I moved then, stepping over the guards crumpled body, and the frozen moment burst into life.
There was no fear in the drunk mans eyes when he saw me hurtling towards him, just a momentary flash of surprise and a glare of imperious outrage. He had the look of a man whode always been so feared, so protected by his position, that he simply couldnt comprehend what was happening. No one ever interrupted him. No one even approached him without his permission. The notion of being attacked was so alien to him that he didnt know how to defend himself – hede never had to – and it wasnt until I was a few yards away from him, and getting faster all the time, that it finally dawned on him that I wasnt going to stop, that I really was attacking him, and all at once his swagger and arrogance cracked.
Hey, just a minute, he began to say, taking a step back. What do you think youre —?
And that was the last thing he ever said.
I dont remember if I had my knife in my hand or if Ide left it sheathed on my thigh, but I never had any intention of using it anyway. I was as unhuman now as Ide ever been, and when I launched myself at the drunk man, leaping through the air at him, I only had eyes for his throat. At the very last moment he raised his arm in front of his neck in a futile attempt to protect himself, but I was flying at him with such savage fury that there was nothing he could do to stop me, and I didnt even feel his arm as I lunged the last few inches and sank my teeth into his throat.
He fell back under my weight, grabbing at my head in a desperate attempt to free himself from my grip, but Ide bitten into him so deeply that he didnt stand a chance, and by the time he hit the ground, with me still astride him, Ide already ripped open his jugular vein and he was rapidly bleeding to death.
I jumped off him, leaving him writhing and gurgling on the ground, clutching in vain at the streams of blood spurting from his throat, and I ran over to Chola Se and crouched down beside her.
How bad is it? I asked, quickly scanning her injuries. Can you stand up?
She nodded, wincing painfully as she got to her knees. She held out her manacled wrists.
Get these off me, she said.
Her wrists were red raw, the skin scraped off by the rough metal shackles, which I could see now were bolted together so tightly that Ide need a hacksaw or boltcutters to get them off. I got to my feet and went over to the iron stake in the middle of the cell. The chains were fixed to the stake as securely as the manacles, and when I tried pulling the stake from the ground I couldnt move it an inch. It was either buried right down into the hardpacked dirt, or it had been set into the ground with concrete. Which meant the only way to free Chola Se was by breaking the chains themselves.
I looked around the cell for some kind of tool. At first I couldnt see anything – the cell was bare, stripped of everything – but then I spotted the drunk mans fur coat and some of his clothes piled in a heap near the far wall, and from the bottom of the heap I could see the silver tip of his scabbard poking out. I hurried over, drew the cutlass from it, and went back over to Chola Se. Shede already guessed what I was doing and was kneeling down with her arms stretched out flat on the ground in front of her.
Turn your head away, I warned her.
As she turned to one side, I raised the cutlass over my head, holding it in both hands, and brought it down with all my strength on one of the chains. The chain broke with a harsh metallic crack, and a bit of the cutlass blade snapped off and flew up into the air, only just missing my face. I raised the cutlass again and hammered it down on the other chain, and this time the cutlass blade completely snapped, but the chain burst open too.
Chola Se was free.
The manacles were still bolted to her wrists, with short lengths of broken chain still attached to them, but she was no longer chained to the stake.
She cautiously got to her feet, and for a few seconds she just stood there, swaying slightly, staring over at the drunk man. He was lying perfectly still now, his eyes wide open, his head resting in a pool of blood, and it was plain to see that he was either dead or very close to it. From the way Chola Se was looking at him – her eyes burning with hatred – I thought for a moment that she was going to take her revenge on him, whether he was still alive or not, and I was torn between letting her do whatever she wanted – and probably needed – to do, and just getting her out of there as quickly as possible.
In the end I didnt have to make the decision, because just as I was trying to make up my mind, she turned away from the drunk mans body and began walking out of the cell, limping heavily, calmly removing the ragged remains of the dress from her body as she went.
The stab wound in my leg was about 6 inches above my knee, and I was beginning to feel the full effect of it now. The pain wasnt the problem, I could deal with that, but the leg was starting to stiffen up, and if it got any worse it was going to make things difficult. At the moment though, I was still a lot more mobile than Chola Se, who – despite her best efforts to ignore her injuries – was clearly in a really bad way.
As I led the way up the hatchway steps, turning round every now and then to help her up, she gently took hold of my foot and told me to stop.
We need to bandage that wound in your leg, she said.
Its all right, I told her.
No, its not. Youre losing too much blood.
I glanced down at the wound and saw that she was right. So much blood was streaming down my leg that Chola Ses face was covered in it.
Sorry, I said. I didnt realize.
She wiped her face and smiled at me, wincing at the pain in her swollen lip.
Ile go back and get something to use as a bandage, she said.
No, I told her, reaching down to take her hand. We dont have time. Theres 3 missing guards out there, and eventually someones going to notice theyre gone. We have to get out of here before that happens. Ile deal with my leg once we
are safe.
Chola Se looked up at me, thought for a moment, then nodded.
I didnt think we stood much chance of getting all the way out before the alarm was raised, but I was hoping wede make it at least part of the way. It was a hope that didnt last very long though. As I cautiously inched my head up through the open hatchway to check if it was safe for us to leave, the first thing I saw was 3 Dau Fighters striding across the courtyard towards us. They spotted me immediately – they must have had their eyes on the hatchway – and all 3 of them suddenly stopped, the one in the middle pointing right at me, and a moment later they all started running, their guns at the ready as they raced across the courtyard towards us.
I cursed.
What is it? Chola Se said.
3 Fighters, I said quickly. Stay where you are, okay?
She nodded.
I scrambled out of the hatchway, then immediately dropped to the ground as gunshots split the air. I darted over to my left, snatched up the dead guards rifle, then turned and fired back at the rapidly approaching Fighters. They were easy targets – upright and out in the open – and I hit 2 of them straightaway, one in the chest, the other in the head. As they went down, and I fired off another round, the third one threw himself to the ground and took cover behind one of the fallen bodies. Now I was the one out in the open, and I could see the third Fighter resting his rifle on his dead colleagues shoulder and calmly taking aim at me. I let off 4 quick shots, and as the bullets thudded into the body in front of him, the Fighter ducked down out of sight. I jumped up and ran back to the hatchway, stooping down to pick up the dead guards pistol as I went, and just as I reached the hatchway and leaped back into it, slamming the hatch closed behind me, I heard the third Fighter opening fire again, his shots plowing into the ground just above me.
