But it hurt. Hyne almighty, it hurt to move my hands, and I had no idea how I was going to get out of there, considering my palms were nailed to the arms of the chair, but I just wanted to go home. With my teeth, I tugged at the ropes, and when that became too painful to bear, I tried to chew through the nylon like some kind of animal with it's foot in a trap.
Better yet, how was I going to untie my feet once my hands were free? I doubted that I'd be able to get the knots undone with my hands mangled and ruined as the were. And chewing through the ropes wasn't even a question in that case. Still, I refused to give up. To give up would be a submission to death, and I didn't want to die. I wanted live long enough to see my family, and to kill Gideon Leonhart.
It must have been the middle of the night, because not once while I was trying to free myself did Danau appear. It gave me plenty of time to work at the knots and think of terrible ways to get back at Gideon for this.
At some point, I passed out again from the pain in my hands, because one minute I was pulling at the ropes with my teeth, and the next, my head rested against my arm. I continued through the night, desperate to free myself, desperate to go home.
Finally, my right hand was free, but I couldn't lift it thanks to the spike driven through it. I couldn't pull the spike out, and that left only one option. I sucked in a deep breath and yanked my hand upwards, swallowing the scream that I knew was coming. Of all that had happened, that was the most ungodly, horrendous pain I have ever felt in my life. I might as well have chopped off my own hand.
After that, I flitted in and out of consciousness, completely unaware of time or how long I'd been asleep each time. It may have been as long as an hour in some cases, or perhaps just a few seconds. I spent every second of consciousness working to free myself, though the going was painfully slow. It seemed to be forever before my left hand was freed, and an eternity before both feet had been untied. I only stopped to sleep and to throw up.
My hands bled profusely - bad enough to make me worry that I'd lost too much blood to get very far. I tried not to think of that as I stumbled to the door. I wanted out so badly. The room stank of sweat, blood and vomit, and I knew I'd pass out again if I didn't get moving.
I was surprised to find the door was unlocked and I peeked out into the hall. It was deserted. Hyne was on my side, I guess. I picked up the hammer from the floor, and had to use both hands to hold it. Blood was streaming down my arms by then, but I didn't care. I was going home.
I stepped out into the corridor and found that I was in the basement. All I had to do was go up one flight of stairs and out the door. I decided the back door was better. It was less likely to be guarded, as it was in the kitchen, and no one would be there at this hour. That is, if it was still the middle of the night. For all I knew, it was daylight and as soon as I set foot on the ground floor, I'd be dead meat. With great caution, I proceeded along the hallway, clutching the hammer feebly in my ruined hands.
When I arrived at the stairs, I glanced up before ascending, slowly so that my footfalls wouldn't echo in the hall above. Every few steps, I had to stop to catch my breath. I was becoming dizzy, and I was sure I'd pass out again, some time soon, maybe. I didn't want that, of course. That would have been the death of me. At the top, I glanced around and saw the place absolutely deserted. It was strange. I'd been here for months, and never had I seen it so empty. Were they still out looking for the nuclear missiles? Had Danau devised another plan? Maybe they'd abandoned the place to avoid capture.
Whatever, I made my way to the door and pushed it open slowly. It was still dark. On the step stood a single guard. She smoked a cigarette and chatted on her cell phone, her back to me and her attention on her conversation. With more agility than I thought I was capable of in my present state, I flew forward and smashed the hammer against the side of her head. She fell to the ground with a thud, and I went after the phone. It would come in handy.
I checked her pockets and found a small .35 caliber pistol. "Thank you, Jackie," I mumbled and clutched the two items as best as I could. My hands were really throbbing, and they hadn't stopped bleeding. If I didn't get help soon, I'd die in the woods long before help came.
Once I was a safe distance away from the compound, I punched in Squall's number. He answered on the first ring.
"Commander Leonhart," he said. His voice was tense, and I knew he hadn't been asleep.
"It's Micala," I breathed. "Send someone to come get me."
"You're alive," he said, and he sounded terribly relieved. "Both teams have been looking for you at the silo for hours now. The monitor you were wearing went crazy there for a while, then it flat lined, and the locator doesn't seem to be working. We thought you were dead."
"Not at the silo," I said and sat down on the ground, which was damp with condensation. I knew I would soon lose consciousness again. My head was spinning, and I thought I might throw up again, though Hyne knows, there was nothing left to expel. "At the compound. Outside."
"Are you injured?"
"Bleeding pretty bad," I managed to say. "Wanna go home."
I heard him cover the phone and call something out, but it was muffled and hard to hear. "Micala, are you still there?"
"Unhunh."
"A team is on it's way. They'll be there in ten minutes to get you. Hang on till then, ok?"
"I'll try," I whispered and lay down on the ground.
"Oh, and the team wants you to know, they have Danau in custody."
"Good. Tell them to drive a spike through his forehead for me," I said weakly. "Squall, I'm gonna sleep now."
"Don't go to sleep. Not till they find you."
"Tired."
"Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until they come?"
"Unhunh."
"They'll be there soon."
"I wanna talk to my daddy."
"He's not here, but your mother is. You want to talk to her?"
"Yeah."
There was a pause, and I think I dozed for a few seconds, because I heard my mother's voice calling my name. "Micala? Micala, are you there?"
"I'm here."
"Oh, thank Hyne!" she cried. "Thank Hyne you're alive."
"I wanna go home."
"I can't wait to see you, sweetie," she said.
"Can't wait . . . to see you. Missed you."
"We missed you too. Aida asks about you all the time."
It hurt to hear her say that. It made me see how little of Aida's life I'd been a part of. "Give her a kiss for me when you go home. Daddy too."
"I will," she promised.
I blacked out again, but when I opened my eyes, flashlights were the first thing I saw. "Mom?" I said into the phone.
"I'm here, sweetie."
"I think they're here."
"Squall, can you radio the team?" she called. "She says they've arrived."
There was a pause, and I heard Squall in the background.
"Micala? They're going to take you home now, ok?"
"Yeah," I whispered.
"I'll see you soon, ok?"
"Ok," I replied and let go of the phone. Three figures approached,
each carrying a flash light. I looked up at the nearest and felt
a shock course through my body. I fumbled for the .35 and aimed it
at the figure. "Don't come any closer or I'll put a bullet in your
brain," I told him. It hurt my hands just to hold the blasted thing,
but I wasn't about to let anyone hurt me any more.
He switched off his flashlight and stared down at me in awe.
It was Gideon that stood over me, staring down in amazement. He had
his gunblade with him and there was something like blood smeared across
the front of his shirt. He looked like the Angel of Death come to
finish the job. I opened my mouth to let him have it, and realized
the figure next to him was familiar. Irving Kinneas stood next to
him, his rifle slung over his shoulder, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
In my agony and fear, I'd mistaken Gabriel for Gideon. The other figure was Maia Leonhart, and she too carried her gunblade.
I must have been a sight, laying there on the ground, covered in my own blood and all bruised up. For the longest time they just stood there and stared at me, none saying a word as they looked on. They might have been afraid that I was going to shoot them if they tried to help me. I was still clutching tightly to the gun, which was now coated and slippery with blood.
Finally, I let go of the gun and I said, "Take me home."
"That sounds good to me," Gabriel said as he scooped me off the ground.
"Gabriel," Maia said quietly, "Her hands."
Gabriel looked down at my hands and sucked his breath in. "Holy Shit!" he hissed and looked at me with such pity, I would have hit him if it wouldn't have hurt like hell to do so.
"She needs a doctor," Irving said. "And fast like. We don't have any potions left."
"Let's get going," Gabriel said as he glanced at my hands again.
"Yeah," I said. "Let's."
"You know, Almasy," Irving said. "You look like shit."
"You still wanna tie me up and make mad passionate love to me?" I asked.
"Not with you looking like that," he said.
"I'm hurt," I teased. I tried to laugh, but it hurt too much.
"Enough joking around," Gabriel said. "Let's get out of here."
I closed my eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
***Notes***
Thanks for the reviews....at least a few people are commenting, and I appreciate those that have. I'm really proud of this story and I worked hard on it. The funny thing is, I cranked out a cheezy little fluff peice called 'learning to fall' in about a half an hour, and it ended up with sixteen reviews for 2 chapters. "Learning to Fall" isn't even well written, and It's pretty sappy. But I guess, sappy is popular. Blood and guts isn't. That's ok. I've learned a lot from writing this, and I write more for myself than for anyone else (though more reviews would be nice-I try to review everything I read here unless it's so badly written that I can't get through the first page). It's a kind of therapy - anger management - mediatation tool all wrapped up in one. Writing is escapism at it's finest. Uhhh, anyway. Keep reading. I'll post a couple of chapters a week....
R/R. Please.