Fight and Flight
Crack.
Sarah's breath expelled in a rasp as her ribs buckled. She blinked away blood and tears in time to see a foot swing towards her head.
Crunch.
She couldn't speak, couldn't scream. Her chest spasmed, her mouth open wide, begging for air that wouldn't come. The raider reached down, hooking his fingers into her nose cavity, and dragged her across the marketplace. He dropped her carelessly, her head bouncing off the dirt, and Sarah saw the traders sitting in a row, their eyes fixed to the ground.
They won't watch, Sarah thought dimly, as a fist slammed into her face.
"Sarah," wheezed Mr. Glass, clutching his stomach. "You need to go."
Sarah nodded, wiping her eyes, and forced her way through the gap, the loose wire clawing at her clothes, demanding she stay. She pushed on, wincing as it tore at her, shredding skin and fabric alike. It was holding her in place, pushing her down, it was—
"Shh, I've got you." The voice was kind and soft.
Sarah tried to open her eyes but found she couldn't. Pain splintered through her as she tried to touch them. Sarah gasped and tasted blood, her skin tight and burning. She lay there, drawing rattling breaths, all thoughts clouded by agony.
"My eyes…?" she croaked, her throat feeling like it was packed with glass.
"They're swelled shut," said the same kind voice.
Sarah focused on the voice. She knew it. After a few seconds, she remembered. It was Mackenzie.
Firm, but gentle hands touched her face, dabbing carefully at her skin with something cool, and Mackenzie said, "I've given you nearly all the stimpaks and med-x we had. Not enough, but…"
Sarah didn't answer. Too much hurt. Mackenzie continued to dab at the sore spots, and Sarah imagined the frightened look she always wore when the raiders grew bored. At least they were finished with her for now.
The beatings were becoming more frequent. Sarah recently overheard Mr. Corbett saying something about 'the cusp of change' causing restlessness. She wasn't entirely sure what that meant, until Mackenzie explained it in a more colourful way.
"You know when you need the bathroom, and then just before you get there, you need it even more?"
"Yeah?" Sarah replied through a fit of giggles.
"Well it's like that, except violence. The raiders are about to get their own spaces now the new boss is here. And suddenly they're desperate to go."
Desperate to go. Sarah felt the same.
Mackenzie said that the day before Sarah had gone to Kiddie Kingdom. When she came back, the raiders pounced. The others bore marks of punishment for her disappearance. Then it was her turn.
Sarah tried to open her eyes again and whimpered. She remembered the way her friends sat in a line, their bruised faces turned from hers. Their cut lips shut tight. She always got the worst of it, even when it wasn't her fault. The image of them burned bright behind her swollen eyelids, and resentment ignited within Sarah. Wiseman wouldn't have sat by. He'd have fought to protect her, even if it killed him.
Sarah's fingers twitched, scraping at the gritty surface beneath her, and she shivered. Oswald's voice echoed in her head.
"If anyone tries to hurt you again, I'll make 'em disappear."
A sob escaped her lips in a little gasp and pain ripped through her face. But she couldn't stop herself. On and on she cried, waves of pain crashing down around her. He had told her. He had warned her. But no matter what he said, she'd never thought it would get this bad. She knew nothing, and it hurt so much.
She wanted Oswald. She wanted to leave everyone behind and go back to him. None of them cared about her, tried to help when it mattered most. She came back for them, and now she was nearly dead. She wasn't a person to them. And she never would be.
"Oh, Sarah," whispered Mackenzie's voice in her ear. Her hand touched Sarah's arm, the other wiping the tears from her face. "Don't cry. Don't—"
"Promise?"
"Cross your heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye."
"Go away!" Sarah shrieked, turning from Mackenzie's reach. Fire erupted through her, blistering her from the inside out, but she ignored it. She couldn't stay a moment longer. Pushing through the crippling haze of pain, Sarah forced herself onto her hands and knees.
"Sarah, no! You need rest!" Mackenzie's fingers snapped at her but did not take hold. Maybe she was afraid of hurting her more.
"Go away!" Sarah could feel cracked stone beneath her palms, her legs scrambling uselessly behind her. She coughed, and something wet and salty sprayed from her mouth. Her head was spinning, but she shuffled forward, reaching out to the walls and getting to her knees.
Oswald never asked anything of her. Never made her do something she didn't want to. He gave her toys, showed her magic, healed her hurts. He made sure she was warm and safe, begged her to stay with him. And she abandoned him.
Sarah swayed, staggering along the wall until she crashed into some sort of shelf. It rattled, and things fell off, clattering around her. Sarah clung on, shrugging off the hands still trying to pull her back.
Get to the door, get to the door, get to the door…
The room was spinning around her, the darkness making her feel sick. The effort of staying awake was draining her. Finally, her fingers brushed the cool door handle.
The next thing Sarah knew, she could feel the grit of the ground beneath her, and hear Mackenzie frantically yelling, "Aaron, get the med-x! I don't care if it's our last one! Get it, now!"
Rough hands were dragging her back, soft ones touching her cheeks, words whispering she would be alright. There was a slight sting, somewhere in her arm.
"What's your name, honey?"
A soft, kindly face peered in from the entrance of Sarah's hiding place, wearing the gentlest of smiles. Sarah pushed herself deep into the crack in the wall, heart hammering against her ribcage. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know what had happened, or how she'd got here. There'd been Mr. Glass, and then raiders...and then…
Sarah swallowed, the new metal band pushing uncomfortably into her throat. A slave collar, they'd told her. Tears began to slide down her face. She wanted to go home, back to the Slog, where Wiseman and Dierdre and all the others were. Where she'd been happy.
"Hey," came the voice again, and Sarah blinked until her vision cleared. The kindly face was still there, waiting. She hadn't tried to force her way into Sarah's hiding spot, but sat patiently at the boundary. "I'm sorry for scaring you with that needle — I just wanted to give you some medicine. You took a pretty bad beating for your first day."
Sarah said nothing. She didn't remember much of the raiders the night before — only their fists pummelling into every inch of her they could reach, and then someone holding her in their arms. She thought it had been Mr. Glass, come to rescue her. When she woke up, a strange woman had been crouched over her, needle in hand. Now she was here.
The lady must have decided she was tired of crouching, because she settled herself down on the floor and crossed her legs, still smiling at Sarah. "My name's Mackenzie. What's yours?"
Sarah hesitated, but Mackenzie's smile was so disarming she couldn't help but relax a little. "Sarah."
"Pretty name." Mackenzie shifted where she sat to dig in her bag for something. As she moved, Sarah spied the metal collar on her neck.
"You're a slave?"
"Yes." She stuck her tongue out a little as she thrust her arm deeper into the bag. "Aha!" She pulled out a Dandy Boy Apple, still wrapped in its shining plastic wrapper. "We don't have many of these, but…" Mackenzie leaned over the threshold and held out the apple to Sarah. "I'd like you to have it. As an apology for...well, everything."
Sarah shied away the second Mackenzie moved in closer. But when she stayed still, holding out the apple without pushing herself further into Sarah's space, Sarah reached out tentatively and took the apple. Mackenzie waited until Sarah had the treat in her grasp, and then withdrew. She said nothing as Sarah slowly unwrapped it and nibbled at the candy shell. It didn't taste like anything bad had been done to it, but then again, what did she know?
"If you want to stay here," Mackenzie said, "I won't stop you. But when you're ready, I would like to take a better look at you. You've got some nasty cuts and bruises, and I think a stimpak or two and a bit of med-x would really help. Luckily Aaron managed to hide a few off the last shipment, so we've got more to work with. Will you let me help you?" She held out her hand, her fingertips breaching the invisible wall Sarah had built in this hidden place.
Sarah stared at Mackenzie for a while, still chewing the candy shell of her apple. Then she looked up into Mackenzie's face. She had eyes like Mr. Glass: tired and kind.
Sarah took her hand.
Sarah felt pain before consciousness truly took hold. Aching, stabbing sensations wracked her body, her head spinning and swaying, though her body lay still. She shifted, wondering why she was on the floor and not in her bed, and tried to remember if she had dozed off in Mr. Glass' workshop.
Memory hit her all at once, and Sarah's eyes snapped open. Was she dead? The room was just as dark when they'd been shut.
If I'm dead, please make it hurt less, Sarah thought, closing her eyes again. Being dead might not be so bad. She'd see her dad again. And...
"Go."
A door not far from her opened slowly, its creak loud and unwelcome. Heavy footsteps approached, and someone knelt down beside her, carefully touching her face. They were not the slight hands of Mackenzie, but large and coarse...and yet gentle.
More footsteps.
"Aaron?" came the hiss of Mackenzie's voice.
"Just checking she's okay," murmured the figure next to her, his low voice so familiar. It was Mr. Corbett. "She's been through hell and back." What felt like a thumb trailed carefully across her cheek. "Have we found anymore med-x?"
"No."
Mr. Corbett sighed. He stood up and walked from the room. "We'll have to trade the rest of our food. Talk to…"
His voice trailed away into the distance, leaving Sarah alone in the cold, dark room. She opened her eyes again, peering through her swollen lids, and saw the door had been left open. A small chink of light burned against her vision, showing the way.
With a whimper, Sarah tried to roll onto her hands and knees. After a few tries, she managed it, and crawled across the rubble-strewn floor. They were feeling guilty now for what happened—enough that even Mr. Corbett was being nice. Well, it was too late now. She was leaving.
She opened the door slightly more so she could squeeze through without any creaking. White hot fire burned through her limbs, but she persisted, thinking of Oswald and Pansy and Petey. Thinking of the lollipops twice as high as a man, and the teacups the size of Buttercup, and—
Sarah hesitated, biting her lip. She had forgotten about Buttercup.
The adults were in the distance, arguing about what to trade for the med-x, or whether to leave Sarah as she was. Sarah remembered Oswald's magic, and how freely he gave it. Her resolve hardened, though tears spilled from her eyes, and she continued on, hate stabbing her heart. She knew it wasn't quite the same, but she'd had enough. She couldn't live like this anymore.
She crawled and crawled, until her knees bled and her hands stung. She crawled through every snug space she knew, avoiding raiders and slaves alike, biting her lip when she heard Mackenzie's panicked voice at her absence. She crawled until she made it out of the park and into the wild green beyond, with its straight paths and dead hedges, all neat and orderly.
Sarah tried to stand up, but couldn't. So she stayed on her hands and knees, telling herself over and over, Just a bit further. Just a bit more.
Once again, her thoughts trailed to her first day in Nuka World, and of Mr. Glass. The fear as they'd made their way through the traps and choking gas of the Gauntlet, creeping past radroaches and strange, swarming ants. But no matter what, she kept hold of her Bella Buttercup toy. Mr. Glass had given it to her after all. Then they reached a set of rooms where the ceiling had been replaced by wire mesh.
The raiders above screamed with delight when they spotted her. Mr. Glass picked her up and sprinted through, not bothering to defend himself. On and on he ran as the bullets flew, pinging off the floor and walls. His panicked breath hot in her ear, broken only by grunts of pain until they made their way to safety.
Sarah had tried to help him walk. She'd been aware of the red stain growing all over his clothes but couldn't quite register what it meant. Even when he'd collapsed, crashing to the ground and twitching, Sarah was convinced he would be up again in no time. Mr. Glass was supposed to stay with her. She didn't want to be alone.
"Sarah," wheezed Mr. Glass, clutching his stomach. "You need to go." He reached down, and with a grunt of pain, dragged up the wire fencing so the hole was just big enough for her. "Go."
"No!" She clung to him, gripping his sodden clothes, tears rolling down her cheeks. "You're hurt! You come with me. You—"
"I'm dying, Sarah. Even if I get out, I'm dying. There's nothing you can do. But I can save you." He raised his free hand and touched her cheek with trembling fingers. "I won't lose another daughter."
Sarah bit her lip. Mr. Glass' pain-stricken face blurred and disappeared behind a veil of tears, and she groped blindly for him, clutching his arms. He tried to stop her, but she wormed her way through, clutching him in a tight embrace. His chest was wet and sticky.
"I love you," she gasped.
"I love you too." He kissed the top of her head, and then pushed her away with the last of his strength. "Go!"
Sarah nodded, wiping her eyes, and forced her way through the gap, the loose wire clawing at her clothes, demanding she stay. She pushed on, wincing as it tore at her, shredding skin and fabric alike. Bella Buttercup was left behind.
The overboss came out personally to hunt her down. When he found her, he told her the raiders wanted blood. Sarah drew her knees to her chest and said nothing. She remembered a man with a funny patch over his eye standing next to him, looking angry.
But the overboss seemed more interested in her than in killing her.
"Ghouls ain't affected by radiation, are they?" he said, tucking the barrel of his rifle under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. "And you're small...can get into places others can't."
"Boss," said the one-eyed man, "forget it. The Disciples want their corpse."
"Fuck 'em. They killed the other one, didn't they? Collar her, Gage."
Would she have minded if they'd killed her then? Probably not. Instead some of the raiders dragged her all the way to the marketplace. That was her first beating. But not her last.
Sarah swayed as a sharp rush of pain hit her. Blood was dripping steadily out of her mouth. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Kiddie Kingdom was in sight now—Sarah spied the very tips of the castle spires peeking just over the boundary wall. Oswald was in there, with his magic and his letters.
Her body could do no more.
She hit the ground with a thud, the coolness of the dead, dry earth sweet against her aching face. She cried. She wanted Oswald to stop the hurting. She wanted to see the tricks, to learn the magic herself. To sit in the castle, where she'd be with people like her.
Where she'd be safe.
Instead she lay in the dirt, the stabbing pains growing steadily stronger as her head felt fainter and fainter. The world was whirling around her, and it was all she could do to dig her fingers into the ground and cling on.
A few minutes later—or maybe it was hours—she heard footsteps. Her heart leapt, but she was too weak to look up. A gentle hand touched her back, before pressing a finger to her neck. She tried to open her eyes to see who it was, but they were silhouetted in the sun, a dark, aimless shape. The hand pressed to her cheek, and Sarah smiled. Their palm was rough and dry, like hers.
Strong arms scooped her up, and Sarah felt herself enveloped by warmth. Her fingers gripped at their clothes, but she didn't bother to open her eyes again. She knew who it was.
"I've got you," a voice croaked into her ear. "Don't worry. I've got you."
A/N: Sorry I've been silent these last two weeks. Depression is a bitch and it's hit me hard this month. The chapters were ready to go, but instead of posting them I found I only had the energy to lie in my bed and do nothing.
So as it's been two weeks, have two chapters.