If you're fortunate enough to have never broken into a giant crate filled with possible slave-traders, you may be surprised to find that it's easier than it sounds. At least, getting in isn't astoundingly difficult.
As I crept towards the entrance of the building, I felt the strange calm that had filled me after I decided to rescue the girl draining away.
Years of babysitting experience - plus two little brothers under the age of ten - had instilled me with several ingrained responses to children. One of these was knowing that it was never, never ok to let them smell your fear. They're like evil dogs that way. No matter how bad the situation, you have to be the adult. You have to be calm, and you have to be in control, or they get scared too. I reminded myself of this as I considered crumpling into a ball and wailing. What was I doing? Why wasn't I running in the opposite direction?
Without the small (sulky, yes) but extremely young face in front of me, I was a lot less certain that breaking into a scary metal-shed-box-holding-pen-thing filled with possibly heavily-armed people was the right thing to do. It's times like this that Jake would actually be useful. He's all for ambushing innocent people in nightclubs, but the second you're about to make a life threatening decision he's at home trimming his stubble, or polishing his biceps or whatever it is he does when he's alone.
The entire compound was still and dark, the spotlights casting scattered columns of white light in the dust. I gnawed at my lip, glancing at the fence. I could leave. I could just run away. At the thought, something inside me seemed to rise up. No. I thought of the man on the ferry, Jake unconscious on the floor, then the girl's small hands gripping the bars. I wasn't running again.
The certainty that I couldn't leave her didn't really make me feel any braver. Instead, I felt like an animal caught in a trap. I tried to control my breathing, pressing my lips together, clenching my fists. I needed to come up with a solution. I needed to be the adult. I needed to be strong.
I peered around the corner of the building. The entrance was visible. It was a large, metal door with a grille in the center. Yellow light shone out through the cracks, flickering slightly. The voices were slightly louder. I crept a bit closer, and hesitated. What was I doing? What was my plan? I didn't have a magic assault rifle, unlike some. If worst came to worst, I supposed I could throw red-hot shard fragments in their faces - but whilst that might be maiming, it probably would just make them even more homicidal. The best option was definitely stealth.
I edged a little closer, and immediately stepped on a sharp pebble buried in the dirt.
FUCK, I mouthed silently, stopping myself from yelping just in time. It was worse than stepping on Lego, and believe me, that happens a lot at my house.
Ok, stealth would be challenging, but I didn't think my chances of knocking someone unconscious and stealing their uniform were very high. That's if they even had uniforms. I reined my slightly hysterical thoughts back in line. They wouldn't have uniforms, what was I thinking? They were criminals, not fast food workers.
I moved to the door and hesitantly brought my eye up to the grill, attempting to peer inside. The gap was tiny and the grill slanted downwards, so I could only see the floor. It was concrete - long and narrow. A corridor. I could see filthy walls and two sets of closed doors on either side. At the far end was another metal door - also closed. I could only see the bottom half, but considering the layout of the building, I bet it had a bolt on it, and was the one the girl was behind.
I gnawed at my lip so hard I tasted blood. Ok. Home stretch. The dirty yellow bulb in the center of the corridor was flickering and buzzing slightly. I strained my ears in an attempt to hear what was going on in the rooms to either side.
I heard a clinking sound and a man's voice. "Fold, shithead."
There was a low laugh, and I held my breath. Were they playing poker? How unoriginal. I couldn't hear anything coming from the other room. I felt shaky with nerves.
All I needed to do was quietly walk down the corridor, and silently get the girl out without alerting anyone in the rooms to either side. Easy.
Before I overthought anything, or entirely chickened out, I reached for the handle, turned it, and - nothing happened.
I peered through the grill again. I could see a deadbolt on the inside. I grimaced. Wonderful.
Despair crept through me, but I crushed it down. Logic. Problem-solving skills. A plan. Maybe if I found some wire, I could hook it around the bolt, and pull it open? I nearly was impressed by my breaking and entering skills, then remembered where I was. How could I find convenient wire in the middle of the night, in a weird parallel dimension... surrounded by (probably armed) people playing cards?
I stared down at the bolt. It only needed to be drawn back a few centimetres. I rolled my shard around my fingers, trying to think.
My shard.
I stepped away from the grille and stared at my shard, willing it to extend, to grow longer and thinner. Nothing happened, except a slight buzzing I could feel through my fingertips. I imagined it growing warmer, and supple, like clay. It heated slightly. I rolled it between my palms, feeling ridiculous. It started to grow longer and thinner, as malleable as play-doh. Once it was in a roughly cylindrical shape, I pulled it out, making it even thinner. In a few seconds, I had a long, silver wire twice the length of my forearm.
I allowed myself a smile, then quickly looped it in half. Perfect. I held it for a few moments, trying to calm myself, taking a steadying breath.
Time to open the door.
I crept back to the grille and threaded my shard through it, keeping hold of both ends. It was as flexible as thread. I squinted through the crack, slowly lowering the loop lower - attempting to line it up with the bolt.
The yellow light flicked overhead - lending everything a sickly, greenish tinge.
I finally slipped my shard around the protruding section of the bolt, and started to drag it slowly it across.
I was so focused that I didn't notice the left-hand door opening. I didn't notice anything until a man stepped into my line of sight, right in the middle of the corridor.
All my muscles suddenly locked up, and I froze. I could see his lower body, and the tip of his gun, casually carried upside down - the muzzle only a few inches from the floor. I couldn't tell if he was looking in my direction. I was painfully aware of my shard, sticking through the grille - guiltily looped around the bolt - surely it was obvious, eye catching.
I was too afraid to move in case it drew his attention. Every nerve in my body screamed for me to drop the shard - to run - but I couldn't let it go. It was my only way home, my only chance to get the girl out.
Right on cue, my hands started shaking again.
Luckily, the man didn't seem to be interested in observing his surroundings. He strode to the door opposite his (from which the sounds of the noisy poker game still emanated) and pounded on it with his fist.
"Shut the FUCK up!" he bellowed. "I have duty in two hours!"
There was a beat of silence from the poker game people, rapidly replaced by a deafening series of disrespectful whistles and catcalls.
The sleep-deprived man gave the door a kick that shook it on its hinges, and stormed back to his room.
I didn't move until he had slammed his door petulantly behind him: then I shoved the bolt open the rest of the way, twined my shard around my wrist, and silently opened the door, my heart in my mouth. I needed to get the girl out, and quickly.
I wanted to skulk up the corridor and stick to the walls, but I knew that it wouldn't do any good. If anyone came into the corridor, I'd be seen. I might as well be in the middle.
I walked along the hallway as silently as possible, electrified, every sense on edge.
Another deadbolt held the prison door closed, just as the girl had predicted. I gripped it, and pulled it open, the metal so cold it burned my skin. I had my other finger pressed against my lips - hoping the girl would see before she said anything.
It was so dark inside the tiny cell that I couldn't see anything except the girl's silhouette. I squinted at her face, barely lit by the light outside. Again, there was the sense that there was something slightly crooked, something slightly off about the symmetry of her features.
Then I realised what it was.
One of her eyes was a deep, dark brown. The other was vivid, translucent blue. It almost looked human. But as I watched her, it grew brighter, and started to glow.
My breath snagged in my throat, and I stumbled back a step
She had eyes like a machine. Eyes that looked human, but weren't. Eyes like a Hierarch.
^^^
Author's Note:
Hello everyone! I'm BACK! Exams are finally over. I survived! Thank you so much for your incredible patience. I will be rewarding you, I promise. I'm putting another chapter up TONIGHT, so you don't have long to wait! (Just a few more hours!)
As always, let me know how you found this chapter! Is Anna getting more badass? Or did she just jump from the frying pan into the fire?
I can't wait to get back to all your comments - soon, I promise, soon!
Don't forget to vote or comment if you enjoyed - and thank you again for bearing with me. J I'll be back again in a few hours - with more!