Hypergeniture Bk. 01 Pt. 06

• • •

Hours passed without food or water.

"Do you think my sisters could've escaped?" I asked with a dry throat.

Alicia shook her head with no small amount of sorrow. She looked at me with sunken shoulders and a tear running down her cheek. "I think we're the only ones who survived."

The realisation that she must've be right hit hard and I felt my chest tighten. I was already feeling sick and it was only getting worse.

Reaching out to touch me, to comfort me, the chain around Alicia's wrist tensed... Creak...

We both looked at the handcuffs, realising that the metal had strained as she pulled against it. These were weak -- cheap imitations of the real thing -- and they could be broken.

"I think I can get these off, sir," my companion declared.

'Sir...'

Even with death looming she called me that. I doubted she could break a pair of handcuffs with her bare-hands, but I kept one eye on the door and one eye on her. She twisted the links of the chain against each other, getting torque and making millimetres of progress every few minutes. Little beads of sweat were rolling down her forehead and every so often she had to stop as her fingers burned.

Disbelief and a morsel of hope were both well seeded in me as I watched Alicia's hand gain more mobility. It took an age, but the chain snapped.

It snapped!

She was free.

I started doing the same with my cuffs; feeling the friction and give as I tensed the links off each other. I'd been at it for a minute when Alicia did a leopard crawl across the room and scampered back with a thin piece of metal. It looked to be something for propping a window open.

The new tool provided enough force to pry the shackles open. Pushing and pushing and twisting and twisting... We used all our collective strength until, finally, the cuff broke free from its chain!

We'd made an awful noise, but no one seemed to be around. We waited a few minutes; scanning the room to look for weapons or ways out. Alicia went to check the door, finding that it was locked.

A startling noise from outside drew our attention. Allie scrambled back and we did our best to mime as if we were still chained to the pipe.

There was a young man, walking back and forth past the dirty classroom windows. He seemed to be bringing us a meal, but he kept forgetting things; walking back to wherever he came from to go fetch them, only to return without something else.

"He looks nervous, young, inexperienced... Kind of like he doesn't want to be here," Alicia remarked.

I agreed. "We could maybe turn him to our side."

The look on my fellow captive's told me I was being naive and had to think realistically.

We were in a survival situation. There would be no negotiation.

I had to summon violence. I had to think about all these people took from me... I needed to get angrier than I'd ever been. Then, I had to use that anger against them -- channel that rage into action -- and destroy them.

"He looks a little too tall for what I have in mind. At least from me," Alicia swallowed. "I'm going to need you to... To..."

"Kill him?" I asked, hands shaking.

Alicia wanted to nod, or shake her head. One would be a lie the other a truth... I don't think either of us wanted to face reality.

"You've seen chokeholds in the movies, right?" she asked. "I need you to do that, but don't just squeeze... Twist and turn and use as much force as possible until... Until..."

"He stops moving?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, but it's our best shot, sir. We can go pray for forgiveness once we're free."

"I'm content with going to hell when all this is done," I confessed.

Alicia met my eyes with sorrow in hers, but there was no time for philosophy or emotion. The next thirty-seconds were the longest of my whole life. We waited for the door handle to twist, the lock to creak, the sound of the wood scraping as it opened...

The young man brought us food on a tray. His eyes were almost closed, like he couldn't even look at us, and the tray shook.

Setting the food down at our feet, he should've known not to get so close.

Alicia made the first move; striking fast as I moved around to his back and grabbed him from behind and wrapping my arm around his neck as Alicia kept a hand on his mouth. He was biting her, but she grit her teeth and persevered through the pain.

For the next ten, twenty, thirty, forty seconds, my mind went blank as my body harnessed a primal energy. All I can remember is the strain on my muscles then Alicia pinching me to stop.

"He's out," she said. "Let's go!"

Alicia pulled a handgun from the young man's waistband and I held my fingers to his mouth. Feeling his pulse would be too much certainty while feeling a slither of air escape his lungs convinced me he might be alive.

Convinced me I might not have just killed a man.

"He's only got eight bullets," Alicia explained, "and this thing looks like it can jam at any minute. Rusted old crap, but I can make it work. We need to be fast and quiet."

We slowly crept to the door of the classroom. The light outside was fading -- the sun setting -- and the village around us empty.

"What is this place?" I asked.

Everything seemed abandoned in the surreal town. The jungle around us made the ghostly place even more claustrophobic and dark. Nothing to the left and nothing to the right.

Well, nothing that drew our attention.

"This isn't Argentina," Alicia remarked, noticing that the world here looked very different from the one we were snatched. It was dream-like; less lush and more overgrown, with a sheen of dirt covering even the deep green of the dense jungle. There were signs in English and almost every building carried the logo of some corporation.

This was a company town. A place that once served the employees of some American interest.

Alicia put a finger to her lips and pointed to the far-side of the village. There were a couple of men standing next to a pick-up truck. You could hardly see them with the light and the tight angles of the buildings and foliage.

Still, we could tell they were the only souls within range.

"Where is everyone?"

"They must have a camp in the jungle," Alicia guessed. "Probably sleep there instead of here and post a couple of guards. Now, we could take those two and steal the truck, but then we'd probably head straight back into our captor's arms. We need to head to the other side."

"Go into the jungle?!"

"We don't have a choice, sir. But..."

"But?"

Alicia explained that we would need more supplies. The only option was raiding that pick-up truck in the distance, which meant taking out the two sentries.

We wouldn't be able to fire our weapon; unwilling to give ourselves away. It would have to be hand-to-hand combat.

The odds were against us. They could pull guns and shoot faster than we could approach. Or, they could scream and give us away. I was against the plan, but Alicia told me she could push past her pain and take them both.

"I'm no master tactician, but I know how to play rock, paper, scissors," she said. "The only way we're getting out of here alive is if we take every advantage we can get. We need to get supplies and better weapons."

Alicia squeezed my arm once for good luck and took a deep breath. She handed me the handgun, telling me it would be easy. "Align the rear sight with the front--"

"They told me how to shoot in Switzerland," I explained.

"Not people," she said grimly. "Don't fire unless absolutely necessary. Once we make that kind of noise, they'll be on us. Aim for the torso and don't hesitate to double-tap the bastards if it comes to it. Now, wish me luck..."

"Alright. Good luck."

Stealthily scrambling ahead with cat-like agility, my protector picked up a stone as she moved. She was swift and snuck up behind the first man.

One hit was all it took and the he was out for the count. His friend must have heard it because he was quick to turn around. I levelled the barrel at him, but before I could fire Alicia had hit him once, twice, three times... She performed a martial throw and struck him again for good measure.

All was clear and my protector called for me to join her. We now had a rifle, a knife, two canteens, and a truck.

We weren't going to use the truck

"We can't just run into the jungle," I argued. "Let's at least drive a little."

Alicia gave me a fiery look. "There's no other option. We can try and outgun them, but I don't like our chances. Back at the ambush, we killed a handful. Here, we've taken out three--"

"You did most of it," I confessed. "I... I know we're cornered; I know we're fighting to survive, but--"

"You're about to ask if I'm okay? You're wondering if killing has changed me?"

"Are you okay?"

"I am... We can worry about our souls after we make it out of here."

Plotting our next move, we concluded that the village we were in must have served some purpose. There should be a mine or something in the area where we can regroup. Hell, there might even be some kind of communication system. Going door-to-door seemed like a bad idea. We had to get away before they realised we were free.

"They probably keep the bulk of their force under the trees to avoid detection," I figured. "Let's get some height -- quickly -- and survey the area."

Alicia agreed and we picked the tallest building in town. It was three storeys, but a service ladder up the side meant it was easy to scale, even though the climb was long. Once we were up on the roof, we saw the reason for that ladder: skylights, looking down on a derelict old interior.

It was a strange amalgamation of luxury and poverty that made this weird place even more senseless.

From high up, we managed to see the upper extremity of a tall structure in the distance. "That's a radio tower!" Alicia smiled as if this was a sign from above. "We can tap into the system."

"Do you know how to do that?" I asked, skeptical.

"I know how to use a computer. I bet we can figure it out."

Nodding, I steeled myself for what came next as we picked a path into the jungle...

Taking a sip from my canteen, we started heading in a direction that seemed inhospitable. In a way, we wanted to take the worst route possible; aiming to avoid accidentally running into our captors' camp.

Without a machete, we were struggling, but we did our best to move fast. It was like running a marathon at full speed against the wind. Like walking into a muddy river...

We did find water. Maybe the sight should have been a relief, but it evoked the thought of wild animals lurking in the shadows.

"Let's move on," Alicia instructed, side-eyeing the water as she clenched her canteen.

She was carrying the rifle on a sling. I was keeping the handgun. If there was going to be a shootout, though, it would be at close range and luck would determine its outcome.

It must have been another two hours of walking until I could feel both of us lose hope. We didn't know whether to go up or down. So far, it felt like we'd been moving in circles. Everything looked the same and the terrain guided where we could go to the extent we couldn't aim for anything in particular.

What the fuck were we doing? Running through a jungle as if we'd magically stumble on salvation? Outgunned and without local knowledge... How the hell were we going to escape?

I stopped, reaching for my knees as my chest heaved. For the first time I let myself cry over the loss of my sisters and my friend.

Thick tears that ran like molten lava over my face burned me to my core. The pain built in my chest until I could actually feel my heart give. But, a hand on my shoulder -- loving and understanding and kind -- brought me back from the brink.

Alicia and I shared an inhalation and started moving again. Our legs could hardly take it, but we found some kind of path. It was overgrown, though it was clear people had made use of it recently. We might have been stepping back into the lion's den, so we stopped to strategise.

"We can either go high or low," Alicia pointed to the slope.

"Let's go downhill," I suggested out of some instinct I didn't understand. Alicia shared it and we started making our way down. The relief provided by the easier walk was brief as the topography became steep again.

Eventually, I just couldn't take it anymore -- physically or emotionally. I crashed onto my back as Alicia heaved for breath nearby. It was hellishly humid and I felt close passing out.

I was slowly drifting, drifting, drifting... Alicia gently kicked me in the side and reached out to pull me up. "Look here," she said, pointing just past some deep jungle. "Some kind of house..."

I took a deep breath and straightened myself. Sure enough, out there in the middle of nowhere, there was a tiny home.

62 • Heart

From outside, the two buildings looked to consist of maybe two or three small rooms. One was slightly larger, and it looked like a standard size affordable housing unit. The other was a little smaller and more rectangular. It looked governmental or possibly commercial -- some kind of office.

Their existence in this part of the world made no sense. There was no reason for them to be there.

Alicia had her gun ready as we approached a rotten wooden door, but there didn't seem to be anyone around. Pushing it open, she peeked through and confirmed it.

"All clear... Now, what the fuck is this place?"

I shrugged, stepping into the strange 'home' we'd found.

The first room was a kitchen with a small attached living room. You could eat at the island and sit on a single couch, but there was nothing else for diversion.

Snooping around, I found a calendar for 2006 on the fridge... A working fridge. Opening the taps, a stream of water poured out at good pressure.

"They must have some way to generate electricity, plus a borehole."

Alicia nodded. "I saw a solar panel. We're in a bit of a clearing. Looks like a road uphill, but it runs back into the jungle."

"How the hell did I miss all that?" I asked.

"You're tired, boss."

Checking the kitchen drawers, I found something.

"Look at this. It's some kind of logbook, but this definitely isn't any language I know. These just seem to be symbols," I speculated, scanning the ledger. "Some of this is definitely mathematical; Delta, Epsilon... No dates, though, just little markings."

"Nothing to tell us where the hell we are or how we get out of here."

"If they were keeping records of something here, maybe they had to relay the information. There could be some kind of radio linked to that tower we saw. We just need to find it."

Alicia put her gun in her waistband before opening the fridge. There were half a dozen pink sodas. Drinks that couldn't expire.

Probably.

Dehydrated, I'd never tasted anything better than the sour candy-drink. Checking another cabinet, Alicia found gummy bears and we started sharing the pack.

Even in the midst of danger, I couldn't help but snicker. "This is fucking weird."

"Peak American capitalism in the middle of the fucking jungle," Alicia smirked. "They must've had some kind of industry here, or some billionaire wanted to make his own little utopia."

Suddenly, guilt washed over me. I had let myself smile for one second, and it felt like I'd betrayed my family beyond repair.

How the hell could I ever allow myself joy after my new life ended theirs?

Seeing me lose hope made Alicia worry and she did her best to console me. "We'll find our way out of this... There's still a chance they all survived and will be coming back for us. At the very least, a KnR team has already been scrambled by our people in London."

"KnR?"

"Kidnap and Ransom."

Shaking my head, I wanted to solve the big mystery once and for all.

"He said the Americans paid them. I can't help but think our visitor, Mr Smith, is behind it. Fuck... I should've backed off when he told me to."

"This isn't your--"

Before Alicia could finish her sentence, we heard someone reach for the door handle. Quickly, we trained our guns on the noise.

A frightened woman with olive skin and lush black hair jumped as she was us, raising her hands in surrender. As Alicia lowered the gun and I did the same, the woman's fright evaporated. She smiled warmly at us, opening her arms wide in a welcoming gesture as another woman entered the house.

This second woman was clearly her daughter, as they shared a family resemblance.

"Hello," I offered, but the two didn't reply. They simply went about their business, beginning to prepare a meal. Now and then, they would give us an interested look, but they didn't pay us much attention considering the circumstances.

"I am Oliver, and her name is Alicia."

Even when addressed in Spanish, the two women didn't answer. Not with words, at least. The younger woman -- the daughter -- left what she was doing and extended her hand to me. We shook. She did the same to Alicia and they shook. Then, with a curt nod, the woman went back to preparing the meal.

We stood shocked; unsure who the hell these people were and why they didn't speak. They didn't mind our presence, despite the guns, and they were clearly preparing a meal big enough for four.

They were the ones who made the entries in the book we'd found. Those pages were filled with a unique -- almost numerical -- language.

They didn't speak to each other, and they didn't speak to us. Yet, they seemed willing to take care of us.

• • •

"Found anything?" I asked Alicia after we spent the day searching the surrounding area.

The mother and daughter had let us roam freely as they prepared a feast for dinner. We managed to wash our clothes and ourselves; working together to clean wounds and regain our strength.

Now, it was time to eat as we took places at the kitchen counter. Alicia and I spoke as if our hosts weren't there.

Alicia shrugged. "I found a compass and a flare gun."

"I found a six-disc stereo and some albums from the 70s and 80s. Add the calendar from 2006, and we've got an idea how long this place was active."

"Seems they were abandoned when the company left. But they still fill out those logs."

"Yeah," I agreed. "They seem to make an entry once a month, but I don't have a clue what they're recording."

We dug into our very vegan meal. It wasn't the kind of food I'd typically enjoy, but we were starved. Seeing that we enjoyed it, the mother and daughter smiled. They appreciated our insatiable appetites, taking it as a compliment and offering more.

Later, they produced a bottle of wine. It was marked 2004, tasted foul, but took the edge off just a little.

As the night grew long, I looked deep into Alicia's brown eyes -- her cheeks having grown a little red from the wine. "Do you think we're dead and all this is..."

"Heaven?"

"Or hell."

Shaking her head, my protector and companion; my friend... She leaned forward and spoke with words that flowed easily from her lips. She'd abandoned formality and chosen tenderness as she said, "Since we're together, it can't be hell. No, sir... It can't be that."

I cleared my throat before downing the rest of my wine. She had a point.

We were alive and we had to keep fighting.

Eventually, the mother and daughter led us to the one bedroom. There was nothing but a narrow and ragged single bed, but they clearly wanted us to take it. We politely declined, having seen the couch they would have to sleep on if we accepted. But they insisted, and we yielded.

Removing any clothes that weren't strictly necessary, Alicia and I didn't make any fuss about sleeping in the same bed. I laid with my back to her, so nothing would make her uncomfortable. Though, I wondered if she'd ever done it... Whether she'd ever shared a bed with a man, or if she ever would have had it not been a matter of survival.