Day 20 - Consequences

I wake up alone this time, with my face against the hard floor. It takes a moment for me to recall all that has happened, and even then it only comes back to me in fragmented pieces. I quickly move around to check the space beside me, but she's not there.

A sharp pain in my head makes me draw my hand up to my temple. I can feel the blood in my hair because it is wet and matted, but the injury is not my primary concern.

I can't stop the bubble of panic that is suddenly rising within me. What if they've finally taken her?

No, no, no…

Not now. Not now. Not ever.

There's no way I can walk around our cell to see if she has just crawled into a corner and fallen asleep. My only option is to call out to her.

I wait a few minutes and strain my hearing to see if I can pick up on any noise that would indicate another person. I can't hear anything. The silence is almost mocking me. Daring me to call out to her.

"Sydney?"

My voice echoes eerily, but the silence that follows informs me that I am indeed alone.

No!

She's gone. They came and took her away.

"NO!" I scream out to the empty prison. I realize that I'm shaking, but I don't know if it's from anger or despair.

They took her away!

I wasn't able to stop them…

I bang my head back against the wall in the hopes that the pain will stem the flow of my nightmares as my brain calls to mind all the things that they are likely doing to her.

Things that I predicted.

Things that I tried to convince her to do.

I feel like vomiting.

But the pain of banging my head is not enough. My head is screaming at the assault, but it doesn't block away the pain in my chest at the realization of all that has come to pass.

I guess that a part of me had dared to hope.

And now I'm paying dearly for that hope.

I scream at the guards that I assume are standing outside of my prison, but they ignore me. They offer me no outlet for my pain.

All I hear are the echoes of my own profanities.

No No No No!

NO!

…

Time has passed since I first woke up, but I am not sure how long.

Minutes? Hours? Days? I don't know.

My throat is raw and my head is throbbing but at least I have achieved a state of numbness where no further pain is possible. I have accepted my fate because I knew it all along. Some things are never meant to be and some things cannot be changed.

At least she's free now. She must be.

Suddenly the door clangs open and my eyes are assaulted by the bright light from outside. I automatically bring my arm up to try and shield my head and eyes as I brace my body for more punishment.

But she must be free. That's all I have to remember. She's going to be okay. And now they've come back for me. But that's okay. If they've come back for me then she must be free of them.

She's free.

"Sark!" a sharp, familiar voice calls out to me as cool hands grasp my torso and try to force me to stand up. "Come on Sark, stand up!"

I force my eyes to open even though the bright light causes them to sting.

It's Sydney. With her pale, ghost like face and the scar across her cheek.

Her eyes are like dark beads of burning fire.

It takes a moment for the consequences of this reality to settle in my head, but eventually they do. She's here. She didn't get away. There will be consequences for her actions, and I can't stop the next thought from forming instantly in my brain.

What the hell has that fool woman done now!

"What are you doing?" I demand from her though it's obvious. She's trying to put my arm around her shoulders so that she can act as my crutch.

"I'm getting us both out of here! Now help me, we've got to hurry."

I force my anger back, and myself up, but I have no choice about using her to help me walk. There's no way that my ankle can support much weight.

She indicates the direction that she wants us to go and I comply. I'm sure that I will have more to say in a moment when her fool plan becomes clearer, but at the moment I am at her mercy.  The container that served as our prison is stacked high on top of several others, accessed only by a catwalk that connects to an upper deck of the boat. I look around but there are no guards or deckhands about, except for one guard sprawled on the ground, just off of the catwalk. His throat has been slit and blood is pooling around him.

Other than that, the bridge is deserted.

As we make our way to the right, I see men down below, shouting and yelling at each other as they run about. They are in a panic, but they are not looking up at us. I want to ask her what she did to clear the way, but she offers me no chance. She's forcing a fast pace upon me; it's all I can do to keep up with her.

As we approach the side of the upper deck, a great explosion rocks the boat, throwing us down onto the floor.

Sydney curses and runs up to the railing. She looks down and then back at me. I notice splashes of blood on her face and arms.  I manage to crawl over to her.

"Sydney, what the hell have you done?" I yell at her as the boat lists back and forth.

She looks at me with fire in her eyes. "I set fire to the engine room, you son of a bitch. Now get up. We have to jump."

I can feel my eyes slanting with rage. "What the hell is your problem?"

She squares herself at me. "Is that the only reason you had sex with me? So that you could entice the guards to come and have a look? It certainly didn't take them long to come and get me!"

My anger feels like it is boiling the blood in my veins. I try and hold onto it. Anger is good. Anger pushes away the cold knot of nausea that was starting to form in my stomach whenever I looked at her and thought of what they did. So I focus on it.

"Maybe you might want to move along with your plan before we go down with the ship. Or did you not think that far?" I snarl back at her, forcing her anger to remain focused.

Anger is good. We can use it. It can help us get out of here alive.

It is so much more useful than…

…hope.

I force her up onto the railing and then she helps me. The ship is starting to tilt towards the stern and we are running out of time. I stare down at the cold sea below. We're at least forty feet in the air. I look ahead and see the shore not too far in the distance. Well, far being a relative term, I guess. I turn back to her. We have to jump. She nods quickly and starts her countdown to three. I brace myself as I put weight on my mistreated ankle.

"One…" I look at her. Then look away.

"Two…" I can feel her look at me.

"Three.." I grab her hand and close my eyes.

The only good thing I can say about the jump into the ocean is that the salt hardly stings my wounds compared to the frigid temperature of the water.