Adrenaline a part of it, fear another. Not only did he have soldiers on his tail, but an unknown uncertainty ahead. Bears sometimes frequented these woods as did bobcats and cougars. Venomous snakes made their home there as well. There was also the thought that once he made it to the border he might not figure out a way over the wall. If he did, how long would it take him to find a Chinlishmen? Especially one that knew Engese. His Chinlish was rudimentary at best. Communication wouldn't easy. Even if it were, what he'd tell them, they might not believe. Hadn't he seen it. Hadn't he lived it. He knew he wouldn't believe it either.
As he ran, he thought about the irony of how he had ended up here in the first place. How his initial hatred of the Asacks was the only reason he was here. If he succeeded, he'd save them from Hell they were enduring. The beatings, the torture, the raping, the horrific experiments and of course the killing. They'd hail him a hero. A savior who put an end to what they felt an endless inferno.
Did he deserve that recognition? Not as far as he could figure. It had taken way too long to muster the courage or fearlessness or whatever it was that he now had. He wasn't even sure how to define it. Or how to even go about even explaining it. All he knew is that it was. As he stared into the darkness that he prayed would soon become Chinlish light, he thought of the past.
He as did most Engese didn't care much for the Asacks. Pretentious and ostentatious whatever you did, they always did better. Whatever you had, they always had more. If they could boast or gloat, they never passed up the opportunity. Most of the time, he was able to ignore them but on this particular day, a few of them boiled his blood to the point of melting steel. He had been screwed on a business deal, one that he thought would help him from losing his house. Worse yet, another Asack was buying up his property and there was nothing left he could do about it.
A mixture of depressed, suicidal and pissed off, he went to the bar that night trying to figure out what to do. As he used alcohol as a means of psychiatric medicine, he over heard two soldiers sitting next to him making Asagink jokes.
His parents had taught him to never say that word. It was a derogatory term for an Asack. One you only used if you truly hated them. Until that day, while he had heard it many times, he himself had never used it.
He went up to the two soldiers and laughed, "Those f'n Asaginks."
They starred at him a moment and then broke out into more laughter. As absurd as it was, it felt good to him to share this loathe of the Asacks with them. His meaning was no more than to get some built up frustration of his chest. A chance to vent with others who had themselves unpleasant dealings with Asacks. He didn't know what was going to happen next.
A man he'd soon come to know as Superior approached the three of them as he greeted the other two men, asking them to step aside for a moment while he talked to the man. He asked the man to express his feelings on the Asacks. At first the man was reluctant, thinking that Superior might be an Asack himself. Or maybe a political correct policemen, out to shame him for what he felt was his right to rant. The Asacks had screwed him out of thousands of dollars through the con artistry of a crooked deal. Another Asack was taking his home. Didn't he have the right to at least bitch about it for a few hours?
Sensing the man's apprehension Superior told him a story of how a group of Asacks had screwed his family out of their local business when he was a kid. As a result, they couldn't pay for his mother's treatments and she passed away. It was clear to the man, that Superior wasn't acting. His hatred for as he called him, "The dirty Asaginks" was real.
"I hate the Asaginks too."
His own voice, coming from his own mouth and after hearing it, it took him a moment to realize he was the one that said it. He looked around the bar to make sure that there weren't any Asasks around. His hatred wasn't for the Asacks, it was simply for the two he had dealt with earlier in the day. Had it been two Engese or two Chinlishmen, it wouldn't have mattered. He'd hate anyone who did that to him. He knew that. Superior didn't.
"Do you have a place to stay?" Superior asked him.
"No." He answered. "I don't."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I have $50 left to my name."
"I'll get you a hotel for the night." The man couldn't believe the generosity of Superior. Why was he, who was still very much a stranger being so helpful to him?
"Why are you doing this?" The man asked. "I appreciate it but..."
"No buts." Superior held up his hand. "There's something I want to show you in the morning."
The man was expecting a cheap motel. A bed with a heater would have sufficed as far as he was concerned but Superior not only had him put up in the fanciest hotel in town, he had him taken in a state of the line limousine. It was the most comfortable and peaceful night's sleep the man had ever experienced.
A knock came at the door in the morning. Four soldiers, two men and two women accompanied him. Having brought tea and snacks, Superior asked the man to sit as he had some questions.
"You ever heard of Sector 15?"
He had and as far as he knew it was nothing more than the configurations of the ramblings of conspiracy whackos and jerkoffs who had nothing better to do than to scare the gullible with horror stories. Supposedly it was a hidden sector, where all sorts of horrific and unimaginable things took place. It was like the boogeyman, scary in thought but nothing more than dismissive bullshit.
It was real and if he wanted they'd take him to see it.
He had to agree to never speak about it. To never tell anyone or even allude to it. He had to understand that if he did, that the consequences would be worse than he could ever fathom. Once he agreed, he was blindfolded and hooded.
They rode in silence. The man wasn't exactly sure how long the ride took, but it felt a long trip. He figured somewhere around four hours. Mainly because he had fallen asleep along the way and woken up before they got there. Once the car was parked, the soldiers guided him along until they came to an elevator.
It was a long slow descend. A good 10 minutes or more before they reached the bottom. He heard a ding and the door opened. He was then led out about 25 feet when one of the soldiers lifted the hood off of his head and took his blindfold off.
As his eyes adjusted to the light, he was taken aback by the immense size of the area. It was huge. Much larger than he could have anticipated. As large as any arena he had ever been in.
Superior pointed towards the exit that lead back to the
elevator.
"You're allowed to go anywhere you please, with exception to anywhere you see a blue line drawn horizontally across the floor." He said as he pointed at the ground. "Don't ever cross a blue line unless you have permission or you've already been hooded and blindfolded."
"Ok." The man agreed.
"You want to know what will happen if you do?" Superior asked him.
"You want to know what will happen if you do?" Superior asked him.
"What?"
"You don't wanna know."
And it was left at that.
Superior then began to tour the area as the man walked behind
him. A cafeteria with the finest of foods and the most expensive of
wines. A spa with massage, a state of the line gym and any type of
entertainment that one could imagine. They walked into a casino as Superior handed him $300 and told him to go have fun. The man won $1,500 in the course of about an hour. He tried to split it with Superior as Superior told him the money was his. One of what would be many benefits of being a member of Sector 15.
Too good to be true. That's all the man could conclude as he
sat with the Superior eating Japanese Kobe and drinking a glass of
Domaine de la Romanee-Conti. If Heaven were real, compared to this, it
was second rate.
"Come on." Superior motioned him to follow. They
walked to an area that looked like a barracks for a summer camp.
"Is this where we stay?"
The Superior smiled as he shook his head. "
Superior's smile widened as he looked the man in the eye.
Superior's smile widened as he looked the man in the eye.
"This is where they stay."
"Who?" The man asked.
"The Asaginks."
It dawned on the man where he now was. What Sector 15 was actually about. He didn't have to be taken into one of those barracks to know what he'd see. He already knew and it was too late. He had mistaken Hell for Heaven, and he now knew there was no escape. He wanted to turn around and go back. He wanted to tell Superior that he wasn't interested in seeing anymore and that he didn't want to be a part of this. But he knew that wasn't an option he could take. Superior was certain that the man's hatred for the Asacks was every bit as strong as was his. He had to make him think that. He knew if the Superior even entertained the notion that his hatred was any less, he might as well go cross that blue line right now.
It dawned on the man where he now was. What Sector 15 was actually about. He didn't have to be taken into one of those barracks to know what he'd see. He already knew and it was too late. He had mistaken Hell for Heaven, and he now knew there was no escape. He wanted to turn around and go back. He wanted to tell Superior that he wasn't interested in seeing anymore and that he didn't want to be a part of this. But he knew that wasn't an option he could take. Superior was certain that the man's hatred for the Asacks was every bit as strong as was his. He had to make him think that. He knew if the Superior even entertained the notion that his hatred was any less, he might as well go cross that blue line right now.
He followed Superior into one of the buildings. Upon opening up
the door, they walked in to see a group of Asack men scurrilously scrambling
as quickly as they could to stand at attention. From the looks of them,
it was clear to tell that they had been beaten, and not properly fed.
A male guard greeted the two of them as he took a cattle prod he
was holding, screamed at an Asack who couldn't have been standing more still to
shut the Hell up and zapped him. The guard laughed and Superior
laughed as the Asack fell to the ground in pain. Superior looked at the
man, as he looked on in shock. He knew that he had to show a sign of approval.
They had assumed he would enjoy it. Other wise he wouldn't be here. They
wouldn't have brought him. As much as the sight troubled him and as much
as he wanted it to stop, he nodded and he laughed. It was the only choice he could make.
From there Superior explained it all. For the lucky Asacks, they
were killed. The rest were subject for experimentation. Some for actual
scientific advancement. Some for morbid curiosity. Either way for
the Engese who worked Sector 15, it was for their enjoyment.
"Who all knows about this?"
"Soon everyone will." The Superior answered.
"Leader will convince all Engese. It is his plan."
"What about the Chinlish?"
"They don't know about it."
"What if they find out?"
"They won't. We've taken measures to make sure."
"That's good."
"Yeah, the only way they'd ever find out, is if someone tells them."
As they finished up the tour, Superior was about to suggest a
position for him as he shouted that he would like to be a guard. He knew
that there was no way he could work in the death chamber or be part of the
unspeakable experiments. As to the Cattle prod, that he would be expected to use, he had an idea around that.
When he went home that night, he spent three hours cutting out
patches three to four inches in diameter and lacing them with adhesive to make
them sticky. He then cut out thick pieces of rubber and glued them to one
side. Leaving the other side sticky. He put as many as he could
into his boots. Some up the legs of his pants. Within the pockets and linings
of his jacket. Within his hat. He even put two in his underwear.
When he arrived the next day a female officer showed him to the
barrack that he would be in charge of. It was made up of twelve women. As they
entered she told all of them to stand at attention as they quickly obliged.
Without any reason other than her own desire, she prodded a teenager in the
back as she screamed in pain. It wasn't until her flesh began to smoke did the
female officer stop. She then slapped an older woman in the face drawing
blood as she rammed the butt of her cattle prod into the stomach of another
girl as she fell to the floor gasping for air. As she set her eyes upon a
girl that couldn't have been more than four years old, the man's natural
instinct kicked in as he snatched the cattle prod away from her.
She turned and looked at him in surprise. Thinking quick on his
feet he smiled and said, "Leave me something to do." She smiled back in his direction. The thought of him
torturing these women as she just had stimulated her as her eyes read him with
admiration. It repulsed him as much as it disgusted him.
"You can do with these women whatever you want." She
said. "If they refuse or fight back or anything, they know the
consequences."
She left as he turned and looked at the women. They looked back at
him. Some with anguish. Some with disdain. All with fear. They wondered in what
ways would he humiliate them? In what ways would he violate them and abuse
them? Would he make them watch as he raped one as a previous male officer
had? Would he choke one to death as the female officer had a week ago?
They had become so accustomed to the treacherous damnation they now knew as
life, the anticipation of it was every bit as torturous.
"Does anyone here speak Engese?"
The women weren't used to questions. Especially ones as
innocent as the one he had asked. Used to being met with a punch to the head, a
kick to the stomach or at best a slap to the face, they all stood in
silence. They knew the ramifications of speaking, even when they were asked to.
He repeated his question.
"Does anyone speak Engese?"
A brave woman took a single step forward and slowly nodded her
head. As he approached her, she closed her eyes and as her body began to
shake.
"Are you the only one?"
She was expecting pain. A hit, a slap, a kick. Her
clothes to be ripped off. The initial shock of another question left her
in a confused state as she slowly opened her eyes and looked at a man who stood
before her. He wasn't like the male officer they had before. Who
consistently fed his sexual hunger using the women for his own sadistic
pleasure. Nor was he like the female officer whose fists were always clenched
with a wretched and wicked smile, whose eagerness to cause agony only
superseded by actually causing it.
No, he wasn't like either one of them. If anything, he seemed as
scared and nervous as they were.
"We all do." Her voice was so faint, that he
barely made out what she said.
Slow and calm he walked closer to her and reached out for
her. Even though she didn't fear him as much as she had the other two
officers they had previous dealt with, her heart still sank as he grabbed her
shoulder and leaned his head in close by her ear. For some reason she
knew he wasn't going to hurt her, but the uncertainty of what he would do still
left her in panic.
"Are we being recorded?"
As he moved away from her she looked into his eyes. Were
these the eyes of trust? The eyes of a friend? Or was this some sort of morbid trick? She debated whether to answer him or not.
Another woman approached as he turned and looked at her.
"No."
He nodded at her as he slowly took off his hat and pulled out one
of the patches. The women looked on with curiosity as they had no idea
what the patch was or what it was for. He looked at the first woman he
had been speaking with and motioned for her to lift her shirt up. The
male officer before him, through his impatience had trained the women to react
within seconds of a command. Before his hands left his own shirt in
demonstration, she had her shirt off and her upper-body exposed to him.
He took the patch, held it in his right hand and with a slow and
methodical ease stuck it along her left rib cage. She watched his hand,
as his fingers smoothed out the wrinkles and made sure that the patch was
firmly attached to her body. He then grabbed the cattle prod and held up
his left hand.
"Don't move."
It was hard to measure who was more frightened at that moment. Him
or her. She had only been struck by the cattle prod once. Attractive with
large breast, the previous male officer found her more useful in other ways and
for some reason the female officer enjoyed punching her more than using the
cattle prod. Bruises throughout her chest, stomach and arms, but no burn marks
was proof enough of that. He was scared too though, because even though
he was well versed in the nature of electricity, he still had doubt within his
homemade insulator.
As he fired up the cattle prod, he put it against the patch.
There was no reaction. No scream. No pain. He sighed a breath of relief as
reached down picked her shirt up off the floor and handed it to her.
She had been a little girl, not much older than the four year old
in the room when she had last cried as hard as she was now. Her sobbing
was so uncontrolled she had trouble putting her shirt back on. When this
new male officer had first entered the room, she as did all the other
women, a preconceived hatred of him. A desire to kill him, only
held back by the fear of what would result by doing so.
Now this man, whom only moments before she had abominate loathe,
she now reached out and embraced him. She held him so tight that even if
he had wanted, he couldn't have escaped her. He gently reached up and patted
her back for her to release him. Thinking she was already holding him
with as much strength as she had, she squeezed even tighter before she let
go.
He turned to the rest of the women, who starred at him as they had
before, only this time in a much different manner.
He began to take out all of the patches he had on him.
"I don't have enough for everyone." He said. "I'll
get more."
He then motioned for another woman to approach him.
"Don't everyone put their patches in the same place." He
said. "Your back. Your stomach. Your chest. Your legs. It'll
look suspicious, if I prod you all in the same place."
He watched as the women began to put the patches on themselves.
He did his best to memorize who all had a patch and who all didn't. Of those
who had one, who put it on their chest, who put it on their stomach and who put
it on their back.
"They'll kill you."
The woman who had answered him when he asked if they were being
recorded handed her patch to another woman as she spoke to him.
When he didn't respond, she spoke again.
"They'll torture you worse than they have any of us."
He nodded his head. She was right and he knew it.
"They'll make you regret ever helping us."
He turned as he watched two other women both who had given up
their patches to put them on the little girl. One put her patch on the little
girl's front as the other put her's on the little girl's back.
He didn't know nor did he want to know how bad it could get for
him if he were to get caught helping these women. Yet as he looked at the
little girl, so innocent and pure, he was sure as he had been of anything in
his life of what he said next.
"No they won't"
He spent the next several minutes questioning how often they
bathed and what to do with the patches during their mandatory showers.
The women explained to him that they bathed every other day and all showered
together. He knew that he would have to convince the female officer that
he be in charge of the women's bathing as he told them each time he'd take the
patches back. He knew eventually the adhesive would wear and after
so many uses they'd no longer stick. Making new ones would be as
expensive as it was tedious, but it was a new hobby he knew he had to
intake.
Throughout the next couple of days he taught the women how to give
themselves bruises, scratches, and marks without hurting themselves much.
He learned quickly on his first day that it was expected that he hurt these women.
When the female officer came back to the bunk a couple of hours later, she was
upset that there weren't any new marks on them. He covered himself by
explaining to her that he hadn't realized that she was serious when she had
told him earlier that he could do whatever he wanted. He explained to her
that he thought his role was to simply supervise them.
"Hell no I wasn't joking!" She shouted as she ripped the
cattle prod out of his hand.
She took it and zapped a woman in the leg. It wasn't where she
had placed her patch, so her reaction of her pain was real.
"Serves you right you stupid whore." The female
officer laughed as the woman fell to the ground clutching her leg, screaming as
the electricity ran through her body.
"Let me try." He held out his hand as the female
officer handed him the cattle prod.
He could only hope as he motioned three of the women to come his
way that his memory of who all had patches and where they had placed them on
their bodies was correct. He managed to laugh as he swore and called the
women derogatory names. As he quickly zapped each one, he questioned
whether he was touching the patch or touching their skin. As high pitched
as their screams were, some even cried, he was sure that he had screwed up and
zapped them for real.
It wasn't until the female officer left again, that he realized
that he hadn't. While the one woman still sat nursing where the
female officer had zapped her on the leg, the other three women moved about
freely as if nothing had happened.
While he had figured out a way to keep himself from having to
physically harm the women by creating the illusion that he had, there were
still some other problems that he had yet to figure out. The female
officer wondered why he hadn't taken sexual advantage of any of the
women. It was all the previous male officer had ever done.
"I don't want to get any of them pregnant." It
seemed a legitimate enough reason. One that he hoped would be good enough for
her and she'd drop the subject.
"They've all been sterilized." She responded as she
laughed. "Fixed. None of these whores will ever reproduce again."
Thinking quick on his feet, he made use of the word again.
"I'm not going to let a filthy Asagink touch me"
He hated using the word in front of the women, but he knew he had to convince
the female guard.
She looked back at him questioning what he had said.
"I'd rather with you."
Even though he did not mean at all what he had just said, he hoped
she believed it. The thought of being intimate with this wretched,
disconsolate, miserable excuse for a human being made him nauseous. Yet if
sleeping with her kept him from having to violate these women, then it was a
sacrifice he was willing to make.
The worst of it was yet to come.
Two days later the female officer came to the bunk accompanied
by Superior. He looked the women over and pointed at the old one as
she stepped forward. She stood in the middle of the room as the other
women stood firmly in front of their beds. He then motioned towards the female
officer and the man to follow him out.
As the man followed Superior out the door, Superior turned to him
and explained to him what was to happen next. Every week, one of the
women would be chosen, either by himself or by the female guard and he would be
given the option of what would happen to them. Killed or violated were
always two of the three options. The other was something different every
week. You would think Superior a used car salesmen, as he gloated about
the variety of the options.
The man didn't know how to answer or if he even could. He knew
what he wanted to say, "nothing" wasn't acceptable.
"Need more time to decide?" Superior asked.
"Yes."
"It's your first time." Superior laughed. "It can
be hard to choose."
The man laughed nervously as Superior and the female officer
roared.
"Wait out here." He said to the two of them. "I
want to look her over real good. I'll be back in just a minute."
He walked back in and shut the door behind him. He knew that
she knew what he had to do as he looked at her.
"Kill me."
There was no fear in her eyes as she spoke. No tremble in
her voice. It couldn't have been calmer.
"I can't go through another experiment or more torture."
She said. "The last one was too much."
He looked around the room as the other women without uttering a
word somehow communicated their approval.
It would get harder. This compared to what it would be, was
easy. Yet at the time, still the hardest decision he had ever had to
make. As he walked out the door, he walked straight up to Superior and
let the words come out before he gave himself time to think about it.
"Shoot the bitch in the head."
He was looking at the female officer as he said it. Yet
neither she or Superior knew enough to know that he meant her and not the old
woman standing in the middle of the room on the other side of the door.
The Superior handed him his gun and suggested that he do it himself. He handed
the gun back to Superior and asked him if this time he could watch. He
told Superior had never shot a handgun before and wanted to make sure that he
did it right.
It was an image that he couldn't get out of his head. One of
many nightmares that he knew he'd relive again and again until the day he died. He kept
envisioning the jerk of the old woman's head as the bullet struck her temple
and her body fell to the floor. She landed with a loud thud, but it wasn't what
disturbed him most. Nor was the psychopathic response of Superior and the
female officer. It wasn't even the sick normalization of it all, that
told him how frequent this was of an event. It wasn't any of that. What
disturbed him the most was his own ability to treat the event with such a
lackadaisical approach. He went to bed that night hoping that would be
the worst of it. It wasn't.
They were paid on Friday. A check so large that he had
to check his bank account three times that day to make sure that it had
cleared. It alone would cover all of his bills and expenses the next six
months.
His original plan was to flee Engena and to never return. He
figured there was no use in trying to save the Asacks. There was no way
he'd be able to access the elevator without getting caught. Even if he
did, he had no idea where it lead or if there were more obstacles and locked
doors to get through. Besides, it was a slow, near ten minute ride to the
top. As highly monitored as the area was, there was no doubt as the
elevator doors opened he'd be caught by other guards.
So his goal was to save up enough money to fly to the
Confederation of Amalga, sail to the island of Rich Port and rely on their lax
laws to keep his government from ever finding him. He figured if he got
rid of all of his credit cards and his social media accounts, that it should be
easy enough to disappear without a trace. The people of Rich Port were
known to be sleazy and desperate. Slip them a thousand dollars or two, they'd
not only vouch you were Rich Portian, they'd call you their best friend since
kindergarten.
It ate away at him none the less. He couldn't keep the once
a week choice from happening. That was a horror that both he and his now
eleven Asack women, had to face. There was nothing that could be done about
that. But he also knew that he was keeping them from the beatings
and the rapes that under any other male guard would take place. It was all he
could think about when he went to purchase a ticket for Amalga. It's what what
made him decide to stay instead.
One day while walking the grounds, he found himself studying all
of the other guards and Superiors. As he looked at these men and women,
he wondered if he was the only one among them with a conscience. He
couldn't conceive how they could be so cold and cruel to the Asacks. Were they
truly this sociopahtic? Is this really how they were? Or had Leader with
Superior and the other superiors convinced them that the Asacks were truly these
immoral abominations that deserved all that was happening to them? Was he
the only one who questioned this? The only one among them who knew this was
wrong?
Most of them he didn't know. Most he had never seen, but he
did know a few. One, a woman with six children, who he had always thought
of as one of the nicest people he had ever met. On the outside she had been a
daycare provider. One who other parents trusted with their
children. Here, if anyone enjoyed using the cattle prod, she was one of
them.
Another was a man he had always known as Father Hopkins. A leader
of a church in the city, a man who spoke out against infidelity and
promiscuity. He had came to the man's barrack once, wanting to know if he could
have his way with one of the women. When the man said no, his response
was that everyone else let him. The man replied that he was told he could
do whatever he wanted with the women, and they were his. He refused to
share. Father Hopkins smirked, shrugged his shoulders and said as he walked
out the door the women in the other barracks were better looking anyway.
Hope lost for all but the small amount that could be found
within the solace of death. It was the only escape for the Asacks. When
the old woman had stood and asked that he choose for her to be shot, he had
thought of her for the longest time as brave. As fearless and
courageous. He now knew she was depraved of hope. That she had lost all
her faith in humanity. He understood her desire for death.
Superior called for a meeting a few days later. These
meetings from time to time were at random. An issue or suggestion had
been brought up that Leader thought all superiors and guards should be privy to
and if asked, open to offer suggestion. At the last one, someone had
asked why the Asacks were not put to work. It was met with a two part
answer. Engese still needed to work on the outside so that there
would be an answer to production. If all the Engese were living luxuriously and
yet doing no work, it'd get suspicious. Especially if things regardless, were
still somehow getting done. The Engese government had convinced all other
nations including Chinlind that the Asacks were leaving Engena on their on
volition. An answer to the dwindling population of Asacks in the country.
As to the cover up for what they were doing, they simply were told
if anyone ever asked that they work for the government. A statement which
had all of the negative connotation and ugliness one would associate with a
lie, that was true. That was addressed at the first meeting he had
attended.
This was the fourth and he wondered as he sat in his chair what it
would be about. As Superior came to the podium, he sat among the
other 250 or so that were there and listened with anticipation.
"There is a traitor among us."
His heart sank as a vibration of trepidation tingled throughout
his body. The one woman had told him that this moment would come. He sat
starring at Superior, waiting for him to call his name and point his finger in
his direction. Would their be a hesitation? Would he take out his
gun and immediately shoot him? Or would there be a moment of shame?
"Her!"
The man turned to see a young woman. Small and petite. One
he had came across a few times before. She seemed to always be angry. Every
other word that came out of her mouth was usually four letters, followed by
Asagink. He had watched her slap Asack men, and shove some of the Asack women
to the ground and once even deny an Asack child his daily meal. They
weren't fed much to begin with. Simply enough to sustain. When he
had witnessed her dump his tray of food on the floor and stomp it with her
foot, he thought to himself what kind of a heartless heathen would you have to
be to deny such a young child to eat?
He knew now that's exactly what she wanted him to think.
Same as was he, she had been putting on an act. He wondered to himself if
in the way he treated the Asacks if his charade was as convincing as was
her's.
"She has been conspiring to tell the Chinlish about Sector
15!" The Superior slammed his fist against the podium as he spoke.
"She is as good as one of them. She's a Asagink!"
"Asagink!" The crowd began to cheer. He began to
cheer with them. As much a he was against them and for her, he cheered
right along with them.
Superior snapped his fingers as a series of guards, both men and
women began to attack her. She fought back but it was no use. She was
small to begin with. It wouldn't have taken but two average size men to have
gotten her down, but with about 10 people, she didn't stand a chance. As
three held her down by her upper body and three held her down by her lower
body, a female guard ripped her pants off. He hated the people around him
as they cheered and hated himself even worse. He remembered once when he
was younger learning about a holocaust and wondering why others didn't stick up
for the oppressed. He could remember thinking those people cowards. Yet
here he stood. His fist raised, his his voice booming. He was one
of them.
He thought that she might be subject for a public raping, but much
to his surprise other guards came with a white wrap that they began to wrap
around her midsection. Exhausted she didn't have the energy to resist as
they taped her arms to her side. Wrapped from the bottom of her stomach to the
bottom of her neck, leaving her lower body and her head exposed.
Superior walked up and removed a small squirt bottle from his
pocket. He began to dowse her legs and her feet. He then pulled out
a small book of matches, stuck one and dropped it. Her lower body
engulfed in flames as she let out the highest pitched screams the man had ever
heard. He subconsciously began to run her way and luckily by the time he
realized what he was doing, he was able to pass it off as simply wanting to get
a closer view.
It couldn't have lasted more than maybe fifteen seconds, but it
seemed to last for hours. Other guards came and poured a solution on her
to put out the fire. Her upper body had been wrapped to make sure that
she would survive the fire. To make sure that she'd live another
day. It was all the man would ever need to erase any idea he had ever had
of being a hero. He needed no other reminder. They'd give them
regardless.
That weekend, her face was all over the news. A story had
been made up of espionage and her name, synonymous with Benedict Arnold.
Superior, the one who had "caught her" plastered throughout the
newspapers, magazines and television as a national hero.
A few days later they brought her out at a meeting again.
Superior reminded everyone of what she had done as she was held firmly as he
took a sewing needle and shoved it through her eye.It was worse than watching
her set on fire.
It was then that selfless turned to selfish. He had thought that
he could continue to bear it but he couldn't. It was too much for
him. The torture. The violation. It was a barbaric enough world in
a society where it was tolerated. Here it was celebrated. It was encouraged.
Pure lunacy. Whatever sanity he had left was telling him that this was
it. It was time to escape to Rich Port. He couldn't worry about his eleven Asack women anymore. He had to forget about them and put himself first.
That night he bought a ticket for Amalga and a return ticket for
Engena. Others took vacations from time to time and if questioned, that's
all he was doing. He then bought a gun and loaded it with bullets.
Only Leader, Superior and other superiors were allowed to have guns at Sector
15. He knew he wouldn't be allowed a gun once he got to the
airport. Yet he figured if he were to be found out, hopefully it would be
at home or maybe on his way to the airport. At least then if he needed to, he
could end it before they got to him.
He figured he'd buy another gun once he arrived in Amalga.
He knew that they would most likely have surveillance on him. He pictured them
coming out of nowhere to stop him the second he made a go for Rich Port.
Sometimes he pictured himself shooting a few of them first and other times he
imagined himself wasting no time before he put a bullet straight through his
own brain. Rarely did he ever picture himself out on the water, in his boat,
headed for Rich Port. He'd replay the plausible scenario over and over
again in his mind. Not even within his own imagination could he picture himself
actually making it. That's how hopeless things seemed, nevertheless still
better than staying.
That was the plan and nothing or so he thought, could change his
mind.
The only prayer he ever recited, was that when picking someone
out, that Superior would never pick the four year old. Or at least not when he was there. He knew eventually she'd be chosen, but he pleaded every night it'd be after he was gone.
It wasn't.
It wasn't.
His options for her were to A-have her violently violated, B-have
her killed or C-to put her through severe emotional distress. He knew he
couldn't pick violation. He could never forgive himself for that.
He could never forgive himself for any of it. His own forgiveness wasn't
the question though. It was her's. Would she ever abscond and one
day know something other than this Hell? Would this be the only life she
ever knew? Destined to what could be decades before she was finally put out of
her misery. There was no right choice to make. No better among the two.
"Sure are taking your time on this one aren't ya?"
Superior's patience were wearing thin and he knew he had make his decision.
"B." It came at a whisper.
Superior went into the barrack and second's later he came out
holding the little girl's hand.
"Here." He said as he reached into his pocket, pulled
out his pistol and handed it to him. "You do it."
It was a great juxtaposition of emotion that he felt as he looked
the two of them over. He held in his hand a single shot pistol. They
could light him on fire. They could shove a needle through his eye. There was
nothing they could do to him to make him shoot that little girl. Yet he
could take the bullet out of the gun, and ram it down Superior's throat, and
find himself amused at how slow it took him to choke on it.
He pointed the gun at Superior.
"What are you doing?" Superior snapped.
He wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger and to smell a
mixture of smoke and sulfur as he sent a bullet through Superior's throat. Yet
something, maybe it was logic, maybe it was fear, overcame him as he
instead turned the gun and held it out instead.
"I said C."
Superior laughed and took the gun.
"You really don't know much about guns do you?" He
laughed again.
"No" The man answered. "I'm sorry, I don't."
"Never point them at anything unless you intend to
shoot."
Oh, if only the sorry son of a bitch knew.
"I'll remember that." The man managed a small smile.
"I plan on getting a gun soon. That way I can practice."
"That's good." Superior smiled back. "I'm sorry I
misunderstood you. I could have sworn you said B."
This was nothing more than a joke to Superior. A nonchalant
question of chocolate or vanilla in an ice cream shop. It made no
difference to him. A dead Asack or a suffering Asack. Either way he
was good.
They took the girl to a small room with a two way mirror.
She was put on one side of it as on the other Superior and the man sat
together. A guard came in on their side and handed the two of them
glasses as he poured wine. Something horrible was about to happen to a
four year old little girl and they were being treated as if they were watching
a play or a tennis match.
On the other side a guard came in with a dog.
"Henry!"
She knew him.
She ran up to him and reached out to hug him. The guard held
the dog back as two more guards came in. With machetes in hand, they
sliced that poor dog to death. They weren't quick about it either.
They'd take a slice, listen to him whimper, listen to her scream, take a minute
and they'd do it again.
At that moment, he parted ways with fear forever. He'd light himself on fire. He'd shove a needle in his own eye. Anything he knew was better than watching that child suffer.
At that moment, he parted ways with fear forever. He'd light himself on fire. He'd shove a needle in his own eye. Anything he knew was better than watching that child suffer.
"I'll find a way out of here." The man thought to
himself. "Even if there isn't one. I'll kill all of you
myself."
The desire was there even if the means wasn't. He didn't have a plan, but what the man did have was a refusal to give up. He was determined to figure out a way to get to Chinland and inform the Chinlish of what was going on. The thought of taking off in his car and simply heading that way had crossed his mind, but he knew better than to do that. For two reasons. They had him under surveillance. He'd get no further than the post office, get a passport to cross over into Chinland and they'd have him swept up faster than an cleaning lady with OCD right before her overbearing and nitpicky mother-in-law came to visit. Secondly, it wouldn't do any good anyway. He had to be able to tell them where Sector 15 was. He had to escape while he was there.
For all he knew Sector 15 might be out in the middle of nowhere. It might be gated. Hell maybe it was on an isle. He was sure it wasn't an island as the car always seemed to be moving the entire trip every morning, but he thought it might be an isle. For all he knew, there might be a thousand challenges, but for all he cared there could be a million. No matter what it took, who or what he had to go through, he was going end Sector 15.
It would be a matter of trial and error.
His first thought was to see if it would be possible to become a superior himself. Of everyone that was a part of Sector 15 they were the only ones allowed to cross the horizontal blue lines on the floor. Being four of them, one of which led to the elevator he was placed on every day. He figured one was a backup elevator, another was either stairs or a ladder and the third some sort of control room.
"If you're really interested in becoming a superior." Superior said to him. "It will take two years of preparation and some vigorous testing. I'm not sure you're ready for that yet."
Superior was right, he wasn't ready for it yet, nor would he ever be.
He then began to study the superiors to try and see what it was about them that allowed them to cross over the blue line without it triggering the alarm system. Did they have some sort of electronic key? Was it something in their clothing or boots that kept the alarm from going off?
He'd soon discover through casual gossip with other soldiers and guards who had the same curiosity that it was a surgical implant. He wasn't crossing a blue line. There had to be another way to the top.
Call it divine intervention, luck or pure pomp and circumstance he received his answer at pure random a few days later. Two of the guards who normally worked what was known as the disposal section had been killed the night before in an automobile accident. By chance Superior came to him and give him the order of filling in for the day.
When he came to the disposal section, a mixture of guilt and shame tingled throughout his body. He knew that they killed a number of Asacks weekly, but it never occurred to him to ask what they did with the bodies.
"We burn them." The other guard said to him. We wheel them into the pit and we burn them.
"Where does the smoke go?" The man asked.
"Up the chimney"
As they lifted the carcasses of what were once Asack men, women and even children into the pit, he took a moment to look up. From what he could see the chimney was made of brick, wide enough for about one and a half persons. He had no idea how far up it went and he could only beg that it didn't narrow towards the top. This was it. This was the answer.
"I was wondering if I could take a break from being a guard for a while and work in the disposal section." He said to Superior the next day.
"You want to work in the Disposal section?" This seemed peculiar to Superior as it was an area that stunk of death and was dreadfully hot from the fire.
"Yeah." The man answered. "It's peaceful there. I like being alone."
"Ok." Superior laughed. "Let me know when you get sick of it. "
In any other nation it might not seem such a chore to drive around the countryside looking for what could possibly be the chimney connected to the disposal section of Sector 15. Engena though, was a different story. As is Mendark known for its assortment of moulins, Engena was the land of chimneys and smokestacks. There are literally hundreds throughout Engena, and while not all of them were made up of brick, that only narrowed it down so much.
The advantage that the man had, was he knew he could drive throughout the countryside without drawing too much if any attention to himself. With the kind of money he was making, there was no reason why he couldn't purchase a new car. Who, upon purchasing a car wouldn't want to drive it around?
Deductive reasoning mixed with what he had learned in physics told the man that the chimney couldn't be as far up as the elevator. The elevator being on the far west end of Sector 15 and the disposal section being on the far east. He imagined where the elevator was to be about 5,500 feet, where as the disposal section he estimated a few hundred. He knew to look for an area with a building that was built on a large hill, butte or even small mountain.
When he got home that night, he took out a collection of golf balls that he had recently purchased. Golf was a popular game that Superior suggested he get acquainted with as it was a popular thing to do on days off from Sector 15. He had about 75 golf balls and hoped when it was all said and done he wouldn't have to buy more. He took out a jar of black paint and a brush, painting numbers on each of the golf balls.
He then took out a tablet and a pen. Estimating that Sector 15 was about four hours from his home, he took off north that night. He visited four smokestacks, dropping golf balls one, two, three and four down four separate chimneys.
He knew better than to think he'd figure it out on his first try, but he still found himself depressed and disappointed when he went to look for a golf ball and couldn't find one.
Over the next three days he drove four hours south, four hours east and four hours west, visiting an assortment of chimneys he thought could be connected to Sector 15. Yet each morning when he went to check the chimney, there was no golf ball.
Several days later, strategy and logic went out the window and even if he was sure that it wasn't the chimney connected with Sector 15, he threw a golf ball down anyway.
He had found homes for all 75 golf balls and had every intention of buying more later that night when he came to the disposal area and found #72 at the bottom of the burn pit. He couldn't believe it. #72 was the Chimney connected to the St. Ryan Lathocic School for Boys and Girls. A elementary for grades one through five. Built on the butte in his own home town. From the top, he could easily spot his own house.
Altogether he had spent over sixty hours and over 5,000 miles traveling all over Engena only to discover that the very place he was looking for was less than a ten minute drive from his house.
He sat in his bedroom, contemplating what he would do next. He could get in his car and casually drive towards the border. Yet he knew that would draw immediate attention and he wouldn't get very far if he were to do so. The border was only a few miles, yet it is where the Engese had the most security.
Although it would be more difficult, he'd buy himself more time by going up the chimney, escaping that way and going through the woods to the back part of the wall that separated the two countries. It'd be a chore to get over that wall, but he was pretty sure he could do it.
It usually took about 3 and a half hours to burn a set of bodies. During this time he usually just sat and thought about things. He knew that this would give him the time he needed.
Inside their barrack the 10 Asack women now three weeks removed from having the man as their guard, much as the man had predicted were now guarded and supervised by a new male guard. He as they knew he would was mean, cruel, abusive and advantageous. All but the four year old had been violated at least once. All, including the four year old had been beaten. They often wondered what happened to the man who had shown them kindness. Who had shown them compassion and that there were at least some Engese who still had humanity. Some thought he had been found out and was being tortured or he had been killed. Others thought that maybe he had abandoned them. None knew that he was working in the disposal sight, nor did any of them know that today he was risking it all for their liberation.
He had thought about revealing his plan to the women. To give them hope, but he didn't for two reasons. He wanted no one to know of his plan. The only way to completely eliminate the chance of someone squealing or revealing was to not tell anyone. Secondly, when he thought of the absolute worst thing he could do to these women, he could think of nothing worse than to give them the hope of escape, only to fail them.
Years prior, his father had bought him some climbing equipment including a rope ladder. The man had never known his estranged father that well. It was an odd situation. His father had been married. Married young. Became a father two months shy of being of legal age to drink. He was in his mid forties with three grown children. A mid-life crisis hit the man and he found comfort in the arms of a young secretary at work. His affair led to her pregnancy, which led to the man. He didn't leave his wife, nor did she ever discover the affair or that he husband had a fourth child. It wasn't even revealed to the man who his father was until many years later. On that day he gave him the climbing equipment. A gift the man was almost certain he would never have any use for.
He had actually thought of selling it. It was expensive, top line equipment but his mother suggested him to keep it. She said his father might not ever give him anything ever again and it would always be a reminder.
He thought of this as he hammered the ladder into the side of the chimney and rolled it down. It was shorter than the distance he would have climb. Considerably shorter but once he reached it, it would speed up the climb.
Thoughts of failure ran through his mind. Someone might discover the ladder and the dropped climbing tools. Maybe all of this stuff wouldn't work, or he wouldn't be strong enough or smart enough to use it. He had gone climbing a few times with buddies during college, but he was far from an expert.
The morning went as it always did. Superior and some guards came to get him, blind folded him and hooded him as they took their four hours of driving around to arrive. He walked the walk to the elevator, took the ten minute plunge and then went about business as usual.
He looked up and saw the end of the ladder. It was a relief. He had been wrong about the estimation of how far down the chimney was. He still had to climb a ways before he got to it, but not near as far as he had thought.
He laid the last body down in the pit, took a deep breath and crawled past them. His plan was to get to the top as quickly as possible, drop the match so that the bodies would start burning and make his way for the Chinlish border.
He used hooks and grapples to get up towards the ladder. It was a slower and louder experience than he had hoped for. One that unfortunately drew attention. As he reached the ladder. He heard the voice below.
"What in the Hell are you doing up there?"
It was a guard.
He had been discovered.
He began to climb the ladder as fast as he could. His heart had never beat so fast. As he reached the top, he was a mere foot from the opening a gun came into the distance. The barrel kissed his nose.
"You traitor!" It was Superior.
He was so angry that he couldn't say anything else. Superior put trust not only into those he chose to be a part of Sector 15, but in his own judgment to pick out the right ones. He couldn't believe that this man was an Asack sympathizer. An Asagink lover. He not only felt anger towards the man, but shame towards himself. He wanted to blow the man's head off.
Starring down the barrel of the rifle, the man thought to himself it odd that he made it this far only to be stopped now. He closed his eyes as he saw a flash of light and heard a loud bang. There was no pain. The surreal nature of the moment made him think that he had died. That his spirit was leaving his body.
"Come on."
The man opened his eyes. The barrel of the rifle was no longer there. It had been replaced by a hand. It was a guards.
He took the hand as the guard helped him out of the chimney.
He stood on the ground as he looked in the guard's other hand to see smoke still oozing from his pistol. Superior, a bloody wound where his left eye once sat, lay lifeless on the ground.
"Get going." The Guard said to him as he reached out and squeezed the man's shoulder. "More are one their way. They'll be here soon."
"Thank you." The man said.
"Good luck."
Luck was already on his side. At least at that moment. He knew the chances of Superior being accompanied by a guard who wanted to end Sector 15 would be slim. As fate would have it, that's exactly where he sat.
He took off for the border.
The desire was there even if the means wasn't. He didn't have a plan, but what the man did have was a refusal to give up. He was determined to figure out a way to get to Chinland and inform the Chinlish of what was going on. The thought of taking off in his car and simply heading that way had crossed his mind, but he knew better than to do that. For two reasons. They had him under surveillance. He'd get no further than the post office, get a passport to cross over into Chinland and they'd have him swept up faster than an cleaning lady with OCD right before her overbearing and nitpicky mother-in-law came to visit. Secondly, it wouldn't do any good anyway. He had to be able to tell them where Sector 15 was. He had to escape while he was there.
For all he knew Sector 15 might be out in the middle of nowhere. It might be gated. Hell maybe it was on an isle. He was sure it wasn't an island as the car always seemed to be moving the entire trip every morning, but he thought it might be an isle. For all he knew, there might be a thousand challenges, but for all he cared there could be a million. No matter what it took, who or what he had to go through, he was going end Sector 15.
It would be a matter of trial and error.
His first thought was to see if it would be possible to become a superior himself. Of everyone that was a part of Sector 15 they were the only ones allowed to cross the horizontal blue lines on the floor. Being four of them, one of which led to the elevator he was placed on every day. He figured one was a backup elevator, another was either stairs or a ladder and the third some sort of control room.
"If you're really interested in becoming a superior." Superior said to him. "It will take two years of preparation and some vigorous testing. I'm not sure you're ready for that yet."
Superior was right, he wasn't ready for it yet, nor would he ever be.
He then began to study the superiors to try and see what it was about them that allowed them to cross over the blue line without it triggering the alarm system. Did they have some sort of electronic key? Was it something in their clothing or boots that kept the alarm from going off?
He'd soon discover through casual gossip with other soldiers and guards who had the same curiosity that it was a surgical implant. He wasn't crossing a blue line. There had to be another way to the top.
Call it divine intervention, luck or pure pomp and circumstance he received his answer at pure random a few days later. Two of the guards who normally worked what was known as the disposal section had been killed the night before in an automobile accident. By chance Superior came to him and give him the order of filling in for the day.
When he came to the disposal section, a mixture of guilt and shame tingled throughout his body. He knew that they killed a number of Asacks weekly, but it never occurred to him to ask what they did with the bodies.
"We burn them." The other guard said to him. We wheel them into the pit and we burn them.
"Where does the smoke go?" The man asked.
"Up the chimney"
As they lifted the carcasses of what were once Asack men, women and even children into the pit, he took a moment to look up. From what he could see the chimney was made of brick, wide enough for about one and a half persons. He had no idea how far up it went and he could only beg that it didn't narrow towards the top. This was it. This was the answer.
"I was wondering if I could take a break from being a guard for a while and work in the disposal section." He said to Superior the next day.
"You want to work in the Disposal section?" This seemed peculiar to Superior as it was an area that stunk of death and was dreadfully hot from the fire.
"Yeah." The man answered. "It's peaceful there. I like being alone."
"Ok." Superior laughed. "Let me know when you get sick of it. "
In any other nation it might not seem such a chore to drive around the countryside looking for what could possibly be the chimney connected to the disposal section of Sector 15. Engena though, was a different story. As is Mendark known for its assortment of moulins, Engena was the land of chimneys and smokestacks. There are literally hundreds throughout Engena, and while not all of them were made up of brick, that only narrowed it down so much.
The advantage that the man had, was he knew he could drive throughout the countryside without drawing too much if any attention to himself. With the kind of money he was making, there was no reason why he couldn't purchase a new car. Who, upon purchasing a car wouldn't want to drive it around?
Deductive reasoning mixed with what he had learned in physics told the man that the chimney couldn't be as far up as the elevator. The elevator being on the far west end of Sector 15 and the disposal section being on the far east. He imagined where the elevator was to be about 5,500 feet, where as the disposal section he estimated a few hundred. He knew to look for an area with a building that was built on a large hill, butte or even small mountain.
When he got home that night, he took out a collection of golf balls that he had recently purchased. Golf was a popular game that Superior suggested he get acquainted with as it was a popular thing to do on days off from Sector 15. He had about 75 golf balls and hoped when it was all said and done he wouldn't have to buy more. He took out a jar of black paint and a brush, painting numbers on each of the golf balls.
He then took out a tablet and a pen. Estimating that Sector 15 was about four hours from his home, he took off north that night. He visited four smokestacks, dropping golf balls one, two, three and four down four separate chimneys.
He knew better than to think he'd figure it out on his first try, but he still found himself depressed and disappointed when he went to look for a golf ball and couldn't find one.
Over the next three days he drove four hours south, four hours east and four hours west, visiting an assortment of chimneys he thought could be connected to Sector 15. Yet each morning when he went to check the chimney, there was no golf ball.
Several days later, strategy and logic went out the window and even if he was sure that it wasn't the chimney connected with Sector 15, he threw a golf ball down anyway.
He had found homes for all 75 golf balls and had every intention of buying more later that night when he came to the disposal area and found #72 at the bottom of the burn pit. He couldn't believe it. #72 was the Chimney connected to the St. Ryan Lathocic School for Boys and Girls. A elementary for grades one through five. Built on the butte in his own home town. From the top, he could easily spot his own house.
Altogether he had spent over sixty hours and over 5,000 miles traveling all over Engena only to discover that the very place he was looking for was less than a ten minute drive from his house.
He sat in his bedroom, contemplating what he would do next. He could get in his car and casually drive towards the border. Yet he knew that would draw immediate attention and he wouldn't get very far if he were to do so. The border was only a few miles, yet it is where the Engese had the most security.
Although it would be more difficult, he'd buy himself more time by going up the chimney, escaping that way and going through the woods to the back part of the wall that separated the two countries. It'd be a chore to get over that wall, but he was pretty sure he could do it.
It usually took about 3 and a half hours to burn a set of bodies. During this time he usually just sat and thought about things. He knew that this would give him the time he needed.
Inside their barrack the 10 Asack women now three weeks removed from having the man as their guard, much as the man had predicted were now guarded and supervised by a new male guard. He as they knew he would was mean, cruel, abusive and advantageous. All but the four year old had been violated at least once. All, including the four year old had been beaten. They often wondered what happened to the man who had shown them kindness. Who had shown them compassion and that there were at least some Engese who still had humanity. Some thought he had been found out and was being tortured or he had been killed. Others thought that maybe he had abandoned them. None knew that he was working in the disposal sight, nor did any of them know that today he was risking it all for their liberation.
He had thought about revealing his plan to the women. To give them hope, but he didn't for two reasons. He wanted no one to know of his plan. The only way to completely eliminate the chance of someone squealing or revealing was to not tell anyone. Secondly, when he thought of the absolute worst thing he could do to these women, he could think of nothing worse than to give them the hope of escape, only to fail them.
Years prior, his father had bought him some climbing equipment including a rope ladder. The man had never known his estranged father that well. It was an odd situation. His father had been married. Married young. Became a father two months shy of being of legal age to drink. He was in his mid forties with three grown children. A mid-life crisis hit the man and he found comfort in the arms of a young secretary at work. His affair led to her pregnancy, which led to the man. He didn't leave his wife, nor did she ever discover the affair or that he husband had a fourth child. It wasn't even revealed to the man who his father was until many years later. On that day he gave him the climbing equipment. A gift the man was almost certain he would never have any use for.
He had actually thought of selling it. It was expensive, top line equipment but his mother suggested him to keep it. She said his father might not ever give him anything ever again and it would always be a reminder.
He thought of this as he hammered the ladder into the side of the chimney and rolled it down. It was shorter than the distance he would have climb. Considerably shorter but once he reached it, it would speed up the climb.
Thoughts of failure ran through his mind. Someone might discover the ladder and the dropped climbing tools. Maybe all of this stuff wouldn't work, or he wouldn't be strong enough or smart enough to use it. He had gone climbing a few times with buddies during college, but he was far from an expert.
The morning went as it always did. Superior and some guards came to get him, blind folded him and hooded him as they took their four hours of driving around to arrive. He walked the walk to the elevator, took the ten minute plunge and then went about business as usual.
He looked up and saw the end of the ladder. It was a relief. He had been wrong about the estimation of how far down the chimney was. He still had to climb a ways before he got to it, but not near as far as he had thought.
He laid the last body down in the pit, took a deep breath and crawled past them. His plan was to get to the top as quickly as possible, drop the match so that the bodies would start burning and make his way for the Chinlish border.
He used hooks and grapples to get up towards the ladder. It was a slower and louder experience than he had hoped for. One that unfortunately drew attention. As he reached the ladder. He heard the voice below.
"What in the Hell are you doing up there?"
It was a guard.
He had been discovered.
He began to climb the ladder as fast as he could. His heart had never beat so fast. As he reached the top, he was a mere foot from the opening a gun came into the distance. The barrel kissed his nose.
"You traitor!" It was Superior.
He was so angry that he couldn't say anything else. Superior put trust not only into those he chose to be a part of Sector 15, but in his own judgment to pick out the right ones. He couldn't believe that this man was an Asack sympathizer. An Asagink lover. He not only felt anger towards the man, but shame towards himself. He wanted to blow the man's head off.
Starring down the barrel of the rifle, the man thought to himself it odd that he made it this far only to be stopped now. He closed his eyes as he saw a flash of light and heard a loud bang. There was no pain. The surreal nature of the moment made him think that he had died. That his spirit was leaving his body.
"Come on."
The man opened his eyes. The barrel of the rifle was no longer there. It had been replaced by a hand. It was a guards.
He took the hand as the guard helped him out of the chimney.
He stood on the ground as he looked in the guard's other hand to see smoke still oozing from his pistol. Superior, a bloody wound where his left eye once sat, lay lifeless on the ground.
"Get going." The Guard said to him as he reached out and squeezed the man's shoulder. "More are one their way. They'll be here soon."
"Thank you." The man said.
"Good luck."
Luck was already on his side. At least at that moment. He knew the chances of Superior being accompanied by a guard who wanted to end Sector 15 would be slim. As fate would have it, that's exactly where he sat.
He took off for the border.
