Revolutionary Tactics

A Caller in the Night

Chapter One: A Caller in the Night.  

It was exactly seven minutes past three in the morning when Ophelia Langton was awoken by a desperate banging on her door. It was eight hours and seven minutes after Sunday’s curfew. Ophelia was terrified. There was only two people it could be: one; it could be a government official coming to arrest her for a crime she did know she had not committed, or two; it was rebel seeking refuge. She hoped desperately for the latter – although that could result in the death penalty if she let him or her stay.

As Ophelia stumbled down the great staircase she wrapped her dressing gown tightly around her and put her handkerchief over her mouth – it was common knowledge that the smog was always worse on a night. She grasped at the door handle whilst twisting the key in the lock, her heart beating furiously in her mouth and held her breath. She pulled open the door to reveal a boy and a girl neither were much older than Ophelia. The boy had shaggy brown hair and a cut running down the left side of his face trickling blood, his trouser leg was slashed open and the goggles in his hand were smashed. The girl’s hair was array and a nasty cut above her right eye left her face covered in blood, her skirt was ripped at the bottom and her eyes where wide as though she was in immense shock.

“Can we come in?” panted the boy, looking behind him furtively. His voice was deep and masculine – but at the same time panicky and scared.

“Wh-who, who are you?” Ophelia stuttered, her pulse speeding up.

“We’ll explain when were inside,” the boy panted again. “Just please let us in.”

“We’ll die otherwise,” the girl chipped in. Her accent was strange and somewhat difficult to understand.

Ophelia nodded in shock and stood back to let the odd couple in tattered clothing to enter. Who were they? Pirates? Rebels? Foreigners? The girl certainly did not sound Gallentian. She didn’t look it either. Her eyes were large and her skin an olive colour, her lips were dark and plump and she looked simply radiant.

“Who- Who are you?” Ophelia repeated.

The boy and girl looked at each other and gave each other a wry smile – “I’m Elijah,” the boy said “and this is Amelie.” The girl smiled. “Look,” he began. “We are so sorry to disturb you at this hour, and well, risk your life – but yours was the only house on the street without a government official (or secret police) and well, we were running out of time and places to hide.”

“Oh,” Ophelia whispered. “So you are...?”

“Freedom fighters,” the girl announced proudly.

“Amelie,” the boy said – giving her a warning look. “Look, I don’t want to say much to you, you’ll be in a lot of trouble as it is if you’re found. The less you know, the better it is for you.”

“Oh right,” Ophelia began, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Ignorance is bliss right? Sounds like something the government would say.”

Amelie beamed at her, “I like her. She’s smart”

Elijah glared at her again before turning to face Ophelia. He opened his mouth to speak just as a furious banging at the door echoed around the hallway. His eyes opened wide and the colour drained from his face. “Have you somewhere we can hide?” He hissed at her.

Ophelia nodded and walked through to the room next door, a basic drawing room with a small table to serve tea. She walked towards a book shelve at the left side of the room and pushed at it to reveal a small alcove – big enough for two people. Elijah looked at her, confused, whilst Amelie slipped inside.