Savages

32: Multiple Reality

There was something uniquely terrifying about the Albian army. Sannah had never seen them before, not up close. Only in news reports from foreign lands: poor resolution; black, shiny and faceless in their all-over masks, scuttling over the bomb-ravaged rubble of Territories cities like ants.

Sannah realised, crouching behind that cold wall, that because of this she'd almost subconsciously assumed they were fictional. Something wild from TV, soundtracked by machine guns and screams, nothing she'd ever have to deal with in real life.

Her emotional response surprised her. It was the same near irrational dread that she might experience if she were to  stumble close range onto a werewolf, or a flesh-hungry alien predator. The screaming of her nerves said, this is it. The worst thing you can imagine is now reality. And her brain, left scrabbling behind, said, That's the true meaning of horror.

She was aware enough, alone in her fear, to process this, or at least to try to. What is reality? How does it relate to direct, individual experience? Can the two ever really be separate?

Closing her eyes for a second, Sannah tried desperately to gather her thoughts  into something more concrete than terror and existential angst. What could she do? Think logically. Did they have Gaen and Deera? Oh God we're ruined.

She had to get away from the gate, at least. They were bound to find her here. She had to make herself move and get down a side street and get away, somewhere safe. She couldn't think about anything else until she did that.

Fear screeching crow-like in her brain, all her senses tuned to a Territories-like war-zone, a TV reality, Sannah stood up, and inched along the wall towards a small passageway disappearing off to her right.

She ducked into it quickly. She hadn't heard anyone approaching, but couldn't bear to go any further, not without cover. She was in some sort of narrow, sheltered courtyard, leading to the Harbourmaster's office.

At the other end, a pale glow came through the glass Harbourmaster's doors, the weak office nightlight of electronic things on standby. This illuminated a pair of large pot plants standing at either side of the entrance, the nearest of which was half obscured by a protruding wall on the irregularly shaped building.

Maybe she could wedge herself behind that and hide? Go to ground, like a hunted animal. Sannah ran towards her intended den, her footsteps and ragged breath bouncing off the walls like thunder.

Skidding to a halt, her heart was stopped by a sledgehammer as she reached the protruding wall and her view opened up.

Sannah choked on her breath.

Skit

There was already someone there.

Oh skit

And he was about to strike her.

"Oh my God, it's you." Gaen dropped his arm, his voice hoarse. "I thought we were done for." He slumped against the wall, visibly shaking. Deera put a hand up to steady him from where she was crouched, as small as possible, in the furthest corner.

"Gaen, Deera." Sannah could hardly speak, her relief was so painful. She threw herself at them, and the three huddled down together by the pot plant, behind the safety of the wall. The others' eyes were wide and haunted, their lips thin. Sannah rubbed her aching chest. "Skit," she said, lamely. Was she having a heart attack? Her left arm hurt.