Vox Humana – Part 4, continued

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When she woke, she found she was somewhere strange.

There were bars.

On her feet in an instant, she turned a circle. Brass bars surrounded her on all sides.

A cage. She was in a cage. For a few moments she was so caught up in this indignity that she paid little attention to her further surroundings, but once she did, she realized they weren't any better.

It was a very large room, cavernous, filled with wreckage and debris, and though these things were nothing new to her, the quality of them was somehow different. The upper part of the nearby wall had a very large hole blown in it, and by the light of the afternoon sun she saw metal, more of it than she had ever seen in one place: walls of it, wheels of it, beams of it jutting in all directions. Beams of it, running along the walls, coming down at angles from a point on the ceiling. Metal.

This was that place. That place with the three towers. She would have bet her life on it.

Wait a minute.

She was alive. Why was she alive?

That thing had let her live. That thing had captured her, brought her here, put her in a cage, and let her live. She turned again, peering around in the sunlight. Listened carefully. It didn't seem to be here. What was going on?

Out of here. She had to get out of here.

The door. A place where the bars were different, over on the other side. That must be the door. In an instant she was there and pulling, pulling with all her might, bracing against one of the adjacent bars and pulling until she thought she'd tear from it. Nothing. She collapsed, panting, next to it. Okay. Okay. Stop.

Think.

Another look at the door. How did it work? She stood and looked at it more closely this time, struggling to calm herself. There were loops, some kind of loops, holding the door to the bars around it. Loops. It was meant to slide upward! She tipped her head back. Just above it, wedged horizontally between the bars, was another piece of metal, one that did not belong to the cage. Knowing already that it wouldn't work, she gripped the bottom of the door and heaved upward, again with all her might. It moved this time – half an inch. Enough to get a foot through.

Wait. A foot through... maybe she could...

She tried. Working her way around the cage, in every position she could think of, she tried to slip through the bars, but it soon became evident that it wasn't going to happen, at least not if she wanted to take her head with her – and while it did seem to get in the way more often than not, she had a feeling she wouldn't get very far without it. Okay, next good idea.

That piece of metal. Maybe she could move it. There was another brass bar running horizontally just below it, part of the structure of the cage. She could stand on it. With a running start, she jumped, caught hold of it, and pulled herself up. Wrapping her legs around one of the bars, she grabbed hold of the piece of metal and pulled. And pulled. And pushed. Yanked. Shook. Kicked. Finally she stood on it and jumped, knowing that this would push it down, but hoping it would at least loosen it somewhat.

Nothing. Not even half an inch.

She dropped back to the floor and rested a moment, regaining her breath. There had to be something. Something she could use. Detritus littered the bottom of the cage, likely remains of the previous occupant; there were bones. Bones. She dove for them, sifted through them, through the shroud of soft, wispy objects that surrounded them. Maybe there was something... but no. The bones were too short, too flimsy, to be of any use. Some of them were fused together. The skull, with its odd, curved protrusion in front, seemed to mock her, a strange echo of the creature that had put her here.

Desperately, she searched the bottom of the cage and finally the perimeter, sticking her arm out at intervals along the way and grabbing whatever she could reach, pulling it through wherever it would fit. A few wires, a piece of cloth, some nails, bolts, and screws. Excitement leaped inside her as she got hold of a sturdy nail, as long as her leg, and pulled it in. But her efforts to pry the bars with it were in vain; it was still too short to get the leverage she needed. She simply wasn't strong enough.

There was nothing else. Nothing she could use to pry the bars apart or budge that piece of metal. Nothing, nothing else.

One last thing. One last thing that might work. The cage sat on top of a mound of debris, with a fairly large drop off to the side. If she could knock it over, then it might –

Well. It might crack her head open. But it might bend the bars, too. Worth a shot.

Again, a running start – or as much as she could get in the confined space – and she slammed into the bars with her shoulder, with every ounce of strength she possessed.

It hurt. A lot.

Again.

A third time, and this time she jumped and kicked out with her feet, pushing hard on the bars and springing back, landing in a practiced roll. Again. And again. And again.

Some time later, as the sun sat low in the afternoon sky, she lay panting, quelled and exhausted, on the floor of the cage. Which had not moved. At all.

Breathing, breathing. She closed her eyes. Why this? This, of all things? Why had it not killed her, or even harmed her? What did it want? And if it wanted her here, in this cage, why was it not guarding her? Where had it... gone...

Looking. It had gone looking.

For more of them.

Out. Had to, had to get out. Had to. But how? It wasn't going to happen by force, that much was clear; she doubted even Eight could budge those bars. Of course, with more of them in there they might be able to work together to pry open or tip the cage, but it wasn't a theory she wanted to test. Besides, who was to say it would capture the others? Maybe it just wanted one of them – maybe, now that it had her, it might simply kill the rest.

Think.

Maybe it did just want one of them. The previous occupant, with its mocking skull, was long dead, and there was only one of those. What did it mean? With some effort, she sat up and slid over to the pile of bones, now somewhat scattered by her various attempts to free herself. She picked up the skull, turning it in her hands. It reminded her of something. Around her, the wispy objects, which had blown about as she had run past, reminded her of something. What were they? She examined them carefully now, holding one and running her hand over it. Thin, hollow shafts with lots of little fibers attached, extending almost all the way to the ends. Different shapes and sizes; some longer than her arm, others barely the length of her hand. Very soft and light. Familiar.

This creature... she knew it. It belonged in here. And it didn't.

An idea began forming; possibly a very good one. Or not. It was hard to tell, sometimes.

With renewed determination, Seven again made a pass around the cage, reaching out through the bars, now looking for anything she could use to tie things to her. Rope, thread, wire, anything. There was wire, a piece she had missed last time. She gathered it up, along with everything else she had at her disposal. The beast would surely come back to check on her, but hopefully it would take its time.

To her dismay, she saw as she took stock of the wires that none of them would work. They were all insulated, and too thick. She supposed she could strip them with the sharp end of a nail, but it would be slow and tedious. There was no rope, other than the single piece around her waist... all that was left was the cloth. The cloth. A strip of it, longer than the span of her arms. It had been cut, and the ends were already fraying. Perfect.

Pulling it into her lap, she felt a momentary pang. It looked like –

She shook herself and quickly set to work picking at the weave, unraveling it and separating the threads out lengthwise, one by one, until she had a pile of them. Next she turned to the wispy objects. There were a few dozen, enough for her purposes, and she began tying them to the threads, so that each thread had several lined up in a row. She stood up and tied the first finished one around her leg. The result did not give her a lot of confidence in her plan.

Still, it was all she had, and she kept working as quickly as she could, racing against the sun as it began its descent to the horizon. It was well into sunset by the time she was finally tying the loaded threads to herself; to her arms, legs, and torso, crisscrossing over her shoulders, and one around her neck. Fortunately there were no reflective surfaces at hand to show her how ridiculous she must have looked, but in the fading light, it did seem that the wispy objects, with their various patterns of black and white, blended reasonably well with the white color of her skin.

The skull, unfortunately, though it would have been just about the right size to slip onto her head, was not hollow. There was a structure of bone inside it that would take too long to chip away, if she could even do it with the tools she had. So she would have to improvise.

But before that, she needed a weapon. Something, anything. She would not, under any circumstances, wait around in this cage unarmed. The large nail was the obvious choice, but on its own it didn't amount to very much. She needed something with reach, something that could strike hard. Maybe if she had some kind of pole to attach it to, but there was nothing like that here. What else did she have? The wire, the threads – those were long. The threads might not be strong enough. The wire? The thinnest piece was quite long, and though it had been too thick to tie around those thin shafts, it might work for this. Yes. Pulled tight, it knotted securely around the head of the nail.

If this were a staff, like her other weapon, she would swing it in an arc, either with one hand or both. So –

Gripping the wire in both hands, close to the nail end, she swung it in a chopping motion, whacking the nail against the floor of the cage. And again. Hm. It did make a satisfying whooshing sound, but otherwise, not great. So how about this –

One hand gripping the end of the wire. The other holding it a few inches from the nail. Raising it up, she began whirling it round and round over her head. Not bad. She gave it a little more slack, widening the arc. More speed. Another delightful whooshing sound, until – crack! – the nail collided with the bars of the cage. Okay, then. This time standing in the center, she slowly put slack on the line, whirling it and whirling it until it was nearly brushing the bars. Then, when she judged the moment was right, she released it. The nail careened into the bars with an echoing clang.

A third try, tighter and faster. Release, and – the nail shot out of the cage, brought up short only by the end still held in her other fist. This had potential. She found that after a few more tries, she could even aim it relatively well. Unfortunately, there was no room to really practice, and no time; though her luck had held out so far, that thing could be back at any moment. It would have to do.

As the deep blue of twilight settled in, she began her final preparations. She retrieved the skull and, threading some of the cloth fibers through it, bound it to the back of her head as securely as she could. It was uncomfortable, with the threads tied across her face, but that was the least of her problems. She picked up the bones and tossed them out, over the side of the drop, and placed the other items just outside, still within arm's reach in case she needed them. Curling up in the very center of the cage, she tucked her new weapon underneath her and arranged the wispy things around her as best she could. Finally, and with a sense of finality, she put her head down within the circle of her arms so that the skull was displayed above it.

This... couldn't possibly work. What on earth was she doing? The beast wasn't completely stupid; it would probably see through her pitiful disguise immediately. She wasn't even sure what she was disguising herself as. And even she did succeed in confusing it, it wouldn't necessarily open the cage to investigate. But what choice did she have? She had exhausted every other possibility. No one else knew she was here, and even if they did...

Full darkness, now. Part of her wished she could just sleep again, to pass the time in unknowing oblivion instead of here with her thoughts, which at the moment were a bit dark themselves. Breathing, breathing. Don't think. Thinking was over. Now was time for action. Or would be, if the miserable thing would just come back already.

Curled up in the cage, in the darkness, within the circle of her arms, she tried, tried, tried not to think. About her weapon – her real one – clattering to the ground. About the twins. How long would it be before they would notice anything amiss? It wasn't like she visited them every day. What would they do? Who would protect them?

It seemed a long time passed this way. Eventually, a faint chink of light found its way past her shoulder into view. She picked her head up and saw the waxing moon, now visible through the wall, hovering in the western sky. What was taking so long? If this plan of hers had any chance of working, it would probably be in moonlight. How well could the thing see? Did everything look red to it, like the red of its eye? And when it did come back, where –

She froze.

There, in the distance. A noise.

Quickly, she lay back down, breathing, breathing. Easy, now. Be still.

With every moment the distant sounds grew louder: the low echoing moaning, the squeaking and rattling of ungainly limbs – louder and louder they grew, until finally the quality of the sounds changed such so that she was sure it was here, in this room.

Easy, now.

Squeaking and rattling, approaching the cage. Footfalls disturbing the debris around it. The low growl starting up from its throat sounded closer than it could possibly be; it seemed to ripple the air around her, around the cage. Footfalls changed direction, around again, the opposite way. Pacing, growling low, pacing.

Be still.

A light. Bright and beaming, piercing the cage, piercing the circle of her arms. The light moved now, shifting with the footfalls and the rising growl from its throat. Shifting shadows moved. Stopped. Changed direction. Around and around, pacing. Piercing.

Be still.

Suddenly, a deafening bang, a blow that rocked the floor underneath. She held on to herself, just barely. Didn't start. Didn't move. A second time it struck the cage, this time nearly tipping it over, and she pushed against the rough surface of the bottom with her hands and feet, to keep from sliding. Back it rocked, thumping into place again on the pile of debris.

The beast was still now. Shining its light on her, not moving, not making a sound. Shining on her, piercing her, not making a sound.

Don't breathe.

A new sound, now, a scraping of metal, the cage vibrating. She was sure from the sound and feel of it that one of its claws was gripping the bars. For a terrible moment she thought it was going to pick up the cage and shake it, turn it upside-down, but it did not. The light moved away from her, still shining, but toward something else.

Another scraping of metal. Scraping and shrieking, the cage jerking. Cage rattling with the force of it. A thump, of something being tossed aside. Metal squeaking, sliding – sliding upwards. Clanging. The light back on her.

Not yet...

Squeak and rattle of an ungainly limb. Squeak and rattle, drawing close. Shadow falling before the light – closing in – reaching –

Now.

Off like a shot, flying, past the arm still reaching for the place she had been – past it, through the door, the open door, as it wheeled about.

Past it – but not from it. No sooner was its light back on her than she was facing it, facing the light and the glowing red eye, weapon already swinging in a whistling arc, and as the beast reared up to swipe at her she released it. Though she missed her mark – she had been aiming for its glowing eye – she shouted in triumph as the nail drove home, right into the center of the skull-face, into the unprotected gap beneath the bone.

A great roar issued from the creature's throat, and it whipped its head back in agony. But she still held to the wire, and now, as it threw its head back, it also lifted her, and she swung, pulling forward with her legs and torso, underneath it. Reaching out with her foot, she hooked its thigh bone and pulled herself to it, still holding the wire, holding to the bone now as it reared and thrashed. Swiftly, before the beast could get its bearings and grab her, she climbed to the juncture of its legs and up into its spine.

She heard a ringing clatter as the nail hit the ground; the beast must have pulled it loose. And now it was grasping for her, or trying to – beating, swiping at itself – but she was between its backbones now, just out of reach. Legs clamped fiercely around its inner spine, she jerked on the wire she held, pulled it hand over hand as the roaring grew louder by the second. Twisting and turning every which way, it tried to grab her, tried to shake her loose, but still she held on, hauling, until the nail was in her hands.

With a cry, she held her prize aloft and drove it, drove it for all she was worth, into the spine. It glanced off the backbone – the thrashing grew still more violent around her – and lodged between the bone and the wires wrapped around. Seizing hold of either end of the nail, she twisted with all her strength.

A shriek came from the creature now, a terrible one she had never heard the like of, as she twisted the nail, twisted it until she couldn't twist any more, until finally, with a creaking shudder, its bucking limbs jerked and collapsed. A moment later, it was still.

Holding to the nail, panting, clamping with her legs, she listened. Waited. All was dark and quiet – the creature's lights had gone out.

She had done it.

Slowly she released her legs. Released the grip on the nail. It spun a little bit, unwinding as the tension on the wires slackened. She dropped back down to the pile of debris and walked around the body of her foe, facing it once more. In the light of the unshrouded moon, she saw the skull-face, dark now, and hollow. Was this really it?

Behind her was the cage; she turned to it. It didn't look nearly as terrible from the outside. What had the thing wanted? What had it been planning to do with her? Would it have been the same thing that happened to the last occupant? Her hand went to the pointed skull still bound to her head. To the wispy things – feathers, she now recalled – still tied to her. The cage glowed softly in the moonlight.

Glowed – red?

A second. A second too late. She saw it was coming, knew it was coming, a second, a second too late. The slashing claw caught her, and caught her hard – she heard herself tear as pain rocketed through her body. She stumbled forward, slamming into the cage; behind her, the creature was struggling, growling and squeaking and rattling and struggling. Struggling to get up.

No time for pain. Pain was for later. Hauling herself up by the bars, she pushed off and ran, ran as fast as she could, ran for all she was worth – which wasn't much. Her legs were like stone, her chest like lead. Her back like fire.

Coming up to the drop by the pile of debris, she jumped. Landed in a heap at the bottom. Got up and kept going, past another large pile draped with cloth, toward the crumbling wall. If it were that badly damaged, there must be a place where she could get out. The sounds of the creature's struggles were still above her, up on the mound of debris.

There. Ahead, in the darkness, a chink of light. Redoubling her efforts, she made straight for it, clambering over the wreckage of fallen stone, pushing the pain back and back as far as she could. Almost there. The creature was still attempting to pursue her – she heard it crash to the ground over the drop – come on –

She was there, at the chink of light, at the crack in the wall –

It was small, and low to the ground. She had to crawl through with her head held down to avoid catching the skull she wore, and cried out in agony when her wound brushed against the masonry. But she made it, leaving the hobbled squeaking and the crippled rattling behind her.

Come on. It's not over yet.

Stumbling to her feet, she looked around. The moon, clouded over now, gave just enough light to make out the city to her right, the emptiness to her left; it would be setting soon, with hours of total darkness ahead until sunrise. Behind the wall, the squeaking and rattling had stopped. Had it given up?

A wave of dizziness overtook her, and her knees gave way. No. No. She would not lie down here, not like this.

Come on. Your legs are fine. Get up!

She got up. By the time the moon had set, she had made it to a tunnel nearby, finding her way in the dark to a sheltered alcove shielded on three sides. It was all she could do. If it found her, then it found her.

It hurt even to breathe. Flat on her belly in her sheltered alcove, she tried not to, and closed her eyes as one blackness left, and another took her.