Authors Note: Thank you to my Queene, the beta who makes everything better and for continuing to support my overactive imagination. Loving the reviews too. You guys know who you are. I appreciate them more than I can express. Chapter Thirteen is complete and in the editing phase. It'll be uploaded shortly.
Sarah xxx
Only Shadows Ahead
Chapter Twelve
"Hey! You plannin' on feedin' us anytime soon?"
Bleak leaned against the metal bars of their enclosure with his arms crossed, eyeing the CB operator with disdain. Getting only a smirk in response, Bleak rolled his eyes and returned to sit in his spot adjacent to where Linka lay.
Her eyelids drooped, exhaustion settling across her like persistent cloud, but she still couldn't bring herself to sleep. Linka's anxiety levels were justifiably through the roof. She had remained watchful and wary for the next few days. A dull throb still pulsed at the back of her head, courtesy of Kroi's rough treatment.
She stifled a yawn, rolling a loose thread from the blanket between her thumb and index finger. Time had become redundant. She knew this was the third day here. She had no concept of what time it was, only that her stomach was rumbling and the water they'd been given was an unfavourable shade of brown. Needless to say, the glass remained full.
The first night had been a close call. The attempted sexual assault hadn't been brought up again by either herself or her remaining cell mate. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them: an uneasy alliance forged through common bonds.
Kroi hadn't returned — there was no sign of him nor Blight. They had both simply vanished into thin air. There was nothing to do here but wait; nothing to escape the monotony except for the scheduled bathroom breaks and the odd crackle of the radio.
Linka had taken the opportunity to converse with the woman in the cell opposite. They had talked in low voices whenever the men guarding them had left; whether it was to relieve themselves outside or assist the others with mundane tasks. She had gleaned some valuable information in the time given.
They were definitely in what used to be a semi-rural area of Southern California. She and Bleak had also learnt that the US was now surviving "off the grid" in terms of electrical supply, and the distinct lack of municipal power didn't appear to be by choice. Something had occurred over the course of the eleven years, reducing civilisation to existing without the comforts of modern technology. This awareness was disconcerting, knowing that huge amounts of electricity had been drawn in order to power Blight's time machine.
Bleak had been especially pissed off when Linka had pointed this out to him. He'd sworn loudly; kicking the bars of their cage and causing one of their guards to stand and scowl, motioning towards the weapon fixed to his hip.
Ignoring Bleak's mutterings, Linka retreated within her pile of blankets; her eyes half-closed and doing her best to overcome the feelings of loneliness and despair.
"So, what's your story?"
Bleak sat with his arms balanced on his knees, his eyes narrowed as he waited for a response.
"What do you mean?" she asked tiredly. Even talking was an effort; her words tending to run into one another since she lacked the energy to articulate properly. "Do I have a story?"
"It's a fucking expression. Tell me about yourself."
Linka rolled her eyes. "You have never bothered to get to know any of us in the time we've spent chasing you down, Bleak."
"Well, it's the first time in seven years I've found myself in such close proximity to one of you."
Linka regarded him quietly, still distrustful. "I am Russian."
"No shit."
She made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. "I am from a mining town near the Ural Mountains. Sverdlovsk Oblast."
"Parents?"
"Nyet."
"Dead?"
Linka resettled herself on the ground, pulling the blankets tighter around her. "Da. Yes."
"How?"
Linka narrowed her eyes at him. "Why? Do you even care?"
Bleak shrugged his shoulders, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. "Not really, no. Just making conversation."
"Mama died of cancer when I was six. Papa was killed in a mining accident just before I received my ring." She rolled onto her back with a sigh, forgetting about the gash for a moment and wincing as the concrete pressed upon it.
Bleak grunted. "My parents are gone too."
"Why? Did they run away?" Linka muttered quietly, unable to help herself. Bleak didn't seem to notice.
"Mom overdosed on drugs while I was at boarding school." He frowned, evidently doing the sums in his head. "Twenty-five years ago, now. Never knew my father."
Linka raised her eyebrows, peering out at him from under her cocoon of blankets. "How did you end up working for Plunder?"
"Met him in a bar in the UK, goin' on twenty years ago. One of his guys tried to give me some attitude." Bleak smirked, recalling what was obviously a fond memory. "Threw the prick through a plate glass window. The boss hired me on the spot."
"Okay," Linka replied, somewhat perturbed. "That is charming."
"I fuckin' thought so." Bleak glanced towards the central area, before settling his gaze on Linka again. "So what do you eco-nerds do for kicks?"
Linka narrowed her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. "Kicks? You are meaning what do we do in our spare time."
"Yes," he deadpanned slowly, and she huffed in response
"Normal things. We like to swim and hike. Watch movies. We each have our hobbies, I guess." Linka sighed, glaring at Bleak from beneath the covers. "Our free time seems to be on the decrease, lately."
"How's that workin' for ya?"
Linka gestured towards their surroundings with an indignant expression. "Evidently not very well, mu'dak."
His lips curled into a hint of a smile. "So. You and Red?"
Linka scrunched up her nose in confusion. "I am sorry?"
"You and Red? Firebug? You two bangin'?"
"Banging?" Linka sat up and crossed her legs, unsure whether it was the tiredness effecting her ability to translate or whether Bleak was speaking another language entirely. "What does —"
"Jesus," Bleak moaned, craning his head back and gazing at the ceiling. "Are you and Pyro fuckin' each other?"
No!" Linka exclaimed, indignant and turning bright red. She looked away in embarrassment, pushing her hair out of her face. "Nyet, we are not… we do not…"
"Coulda' fooled me." Bleak looked clearly surprised at her confession. "We all sort of assumed…"
"Bozhe moy," she hissed, mortified at the thought of eco-villains discussing her sex life. "I cannot believe you are —"
"What? Nothin' wrong with mixin' a little work with pleasure."
"Ugh". Linka dropped back onto the ground, turning her back on Bleak. "This conversation is over."
"Fine, Lil' Miss Prissy," Bleak muttered from behind her. "It's just pretty fuckin' obvious that the two of you —
He trailed off, his attention diverted as he stared down a small group of men who had trudged through the front entrance, dusting sand from their clothing and talking in low voices with the scavengers. Linka's gaze followed Bleak's. A trolley of goods were pushed through the door and deposited beside the couch.
Linka's breath caught as one of the newcomers turned and looked in her direction, before nodding to the man she assumed was in charge.
"Are they…" she said nervously, glancing in her cell-mate's direction. "Are they here for us?"
"Yeah," he replied. Cheery laughter echoed through the tin structure and he frowned, trying to get an angle on their intentions. "Looks like we're worth a few car batteries and some barrels of fuel."
"Bleak?" she whispered. Linka's face had turned white, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of moving on. "I do not like this…"
"I'll make you a deal, kid," he said, speaking in low tones since the buyers were now approaching their cell, having settled the payment. "If I'm feelin' that things are startin' to go south, I'll do my best to get us outta there. On the condition," he stressed, pointing his finger towards her with a sneer, "that we find your little buddies and the blue guy can get us home."
Linka nodded, her green eyes trained on the man who had initiated the exchange. She shuffled away quickly as the stranger reached the bars, crouching down so that he was at eye level.
"Hi," he said softly, pulling his hood away from his face. He wiped the lower half of his face and grinned at her apologetically. "Sorry. Occupational hazard these days. Sand here's a killer."
Linka stared at him in surprise. About six foot tall, with sandy hair and an engaging smile, he looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties. Dimples were present on his cheeks and the man had green eyes that sparkled with vitality.
"You okay?"
Linka blinked, unaware that he'd still been talking. She nodded, watching as he turned and issued a sharp order. Their captors fell about locating the keys. The gate was unlocked and it swung open loudly. Linka scurried to her feet and hid behind Bleak's stocky frame. He had his arms crossed again and was eyeing them with a distinct look of distrust.
"It's all right. We've been sent to come get you. Your friends are waiting."
"My friends?" Linka asked sharply, peering around Bleak's shoulder. "My friends are here?"
"Yeah. My name's John Lambert. I work for the Department of Homeland Security… or what's left of it." The man produced an identity card and held it out in front of him. Linka stepped forward, still keeping some distance between them as she scrutinised the particulars. He winked, holding up his ring finger and pointing to it. "You missing anything?"
"Um, da. Blight has it… had it."
"Barbara Blight?"
Linka nodded, glancing at Bleak with a questioning expression, still grappling with getting a read on this person. Bleak shrugged, his hands deep within his pockets and watching the conversation like a hawk. John turned and conversed in low tones to the man in charge, who eventually pointed outside.
"C'mon," John said, extending his hand to Linka. "Let's go get your ring."
Linka opened her mouth and closed it again, eyes wide as she contemplated her next move.
"It's okay," John said patiently, wiggling his fingers with a grin. "Honestly, I'm not gonna bite. I know you've probably been through hell the past few days, but we're here to help."
She reached out and took his hand, trusting him to lead her out of the cell. Linka turned suddenly as the door closed behind her, keeping Bleak locked inside.
"Wait," she said, stalling and causing John to look back in confusion. She nodded in Bleak's direction. "He comes too."
"We only have instructions for you, hon," John said, staring at Bleak. "We've made the exchange for…"
"I am not leaving without him," she said. "You can —"
"Take him," one of the scavengers replied as he opened the gate again, beckoning for Bleak to move forward. "Consider him a freebie."
John looked mildly annoyed but nodded, following his group outside. He pulled Linka along after him, with Bleak trailing not far behind them.
"Bozhe moy," Linka gasped, shocked at the sight that greeted her. She clapped her hands to her mouth and turned away, feeling the blood rush to her face regardless of the cold gusts of air assaulting her skin and sending her hair flying in all directions. "Oh God."
Obviously an area designated for garbage, a variety of skip bins were arranged in a rough circle. Filled with broken wood, steel, and other paraphernalia, Barbara Blight's body lay crumpled at the base of one of them. Eyes wide open and staring lifelessly, her mouth echoing an eternal scream.
Linka shuddered, biting down on her fingers as her eyes darted around nervously. Her gaze met Bleak's and for the first time she could recall, he looked utterly shocked.
"Jesus," he hissed, staring at Blight's body and at the suited stranger currently rifling through the dead woman's pockets. "Fuckin' hell, Babs."
An object was tossed to John and he caught it with his free hand, passing it quickly to Linka and nodding in the direction of the building in front of them. "Wanna' give it a whirl?"
She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She let go of him and turned, walking back numbly towards the building they had been held for the past few days. She stiffened as she passed another broken body, half buried in sand with only the back and arms visible. The baseball bat still lay discarded beside him.
Kroi.
Linka clenched her fists, pushing her shoulder against the door and barging through. She was weak with hunger, thirsty and emotionally overwrought, glaring at the card players who had resumed their game. Ignoring the human misery going on around them. Making profit from other people's misfortune. Ignorant to their suffering. Trading lives for… whatever they fancied.
"WIND!"
The card players didn't know what hit them. Bellowing loudly, the scavengers were launched into the air, along with the entire side of the structure; the tin rattling and bowing due to the force of the impact. Their beloved deck of cards disappeared with them, tumbling out of sight and disappearing into the desert terrain.
She spotted movement behind her and she turned, spotting another guard barreling towards her. She raised her ring but John was already one step ahead of her, dispatching the threat with a left hook to the man's face.
Linka grabbed the keys from the desk and hurried towards the other cages, her fingers fumbling as she pushed different combinations into the locks until she found the right one. Twisting the key, she unlocked the gates one-by-one and swung them open, freeing the occupants who gave her a cursory glance before fleeing into the sand dunes.
She walked out, passing John and ignoring Bleak's barrage of questions aimed at their rescuers. None of it mattered. None of it. She just needed to find her friends.