The Hand and the Hatchet

Chapter 9

Bell woke up bright and early, the yellow sun streaming through the window, straight into his face. He felt better, less achy. The last traces of pain was fading rapidly, the only remaining marks being the bandage around his elbow and upper forearm, and the bruises on his throat. He'd been sleeping with his mouth open, and it was dry and raspy, and his tongue felt like a lump of sandpaper. He grimaced, and dragged himself out of bed, stretching up and rolling his neck. He cracked his knuckles, and started pulling on some clothes he'd been given. His boots were slightly colder than the room. As he was tucking in the laces on his left foot, there was a knock on the door. Three raps in quick succession. He walked the few metres to the door, which was so close to the foot of the bed that when he opened it, it brushed against the duvet that hung off the edge. Ant stood in the doorway, in the same jeans as the day before but with a white t-shirt on.

"Alright?" He said.

"Yeah, I was just putting my boots on"

"I've just 'ad some scram, George wants to see us in the garden after you've eaten apparently"

"Scram?"

"Food. What'd you reckon after dinner later we find somewhere quiet and have a little talk, eh?"

"About what?"

Ant looked both ways down the hallway before answering "Our... direction from now on, you see? Get ready, I'll wait out 'ere"

So Ant wanted to talk about what they were going to do. Bell had wanted to have that conversation immediately, but if Ant said they should wait, they should wait. He let the heavy door swing closed, and made his bed. It was a single bed with totally white covers. The room itself was little bigger than a cell, with a desk and small wardrobe taking up most of the space. There was room for perhaps two people to lay down shoulder to shoulder on the horribly-patterned carpet, which seemed to be a theme throughout his recent life. You had to walk between the bottom left foot of the bed and the right hand corner of the wardrobe to access this small space, or to get to the desk, and Bell had smacked his shins on the bed frame trying to do this the night before. If you sat at the desk, you could see straight out of an old-fashioned window, straight onto a gorgeous view of the cracked and crumbling wall that bordered the large building. The window was square, the edge was wooden and painted white. About an inch of the sill hovered over the desk, which was pushed against the wall. He slid the bottom section up, the gentle breeze flowing into the room. On the desk there was a lamp (which didn't work, obviously) and his knife in it's sheath, which he'd been given back. Just before he'd gone to bed, an exceptionally normal looking woman had given him two sets of clothes and his pack, with his bow and quiver, minus some arrows, which now were sat in the wardrobe. After last night, he'd realised that the building was in a huge 'U' shape, with the lowest part being the entrance, the huge gate facing the front door across twenty metres of what was once a perfectly manicured lawn. He looked around, and satisfied, he walked outside to Ant, who had been leaning against the wall on his shoulder, his left foot crossed over his right, toe to the carpeted floor. He looked up, then wordlessly turned and walked left down the hall, towards the stairs. There was one floor above them, which Bell had never been to. They walked down the stairs and then into what had been, and still was the dining room. The tables had been out end to end, spanning the whole massive room, like one enormous bench. A few people he didn't recognise sat around it, eating. There was one woman in the small hatch, serving food from a huge vat. Ant had already eaten, so he took a seat and waited for Bell to collect his food. He grabbed a bowl from a stack on a metal trolley, and walked up to the window, the two wooden shutter doors pushed open against the walls.

"Hi. Can I have some food?" He wasn't exactly sure what the protocol was.

"Yeah. If you come back for seconds you won't get any" The woman practically growled.