Nada's Escape: Fighters' lies

10.1 Wait

I pace the visiting room, trying to ignore the itch beneath my skin. It's as if I've become a menagerie of insects; all crawling, throbbing and shivering all at once. My legs jerk beneath me, my hand pressing hard into my bare collarbone. Nothing seems to ease my anxiety, not foot tapping, nor pacing. Hurry up Finley.

The door hisses open and my heart jumps into my throat. It is a warden. One of the usual night wardens, dark haired and dark-skinned. Still, panic flutters in my chest while I gasp in more air. I instinctively check the camera above his head, shifting from foot to foot.

"Would you like to sit down please? Your sponsor is on his way." I forcibly command my legs to stop fidgeting, just managing to still the shifting muscles. My heart still throbs like a nest of paper wasps. I can't handle sitting down. My eyes must go really scary because the warden takes a metaphoric step back. He too checks the camera and then the door behind me.

"I see. Are you sure about this?" He asks. My body ripples with violent indecision and I pace my way to the outer door, turning around with a jerk.

"Yes, no, probably not- oh god." I drop my head. I need to get a hold of myself. But I can't stay in Seven anymore, can I?

Macie's voice hisses in my mind again, they'll never forgive you... I can't stay, for a hundred reasons. Seven used to be my prison, but its worse than that now. Its a home for monsters.

I can see them in my head now. My helplessness, a poltergeist trapped between my cell and Macie's. My violence, stalking like a shadow across the floors. And lying in a pool of bloodied water lies another sort of monster; a death undiscovered.

"You always have a choice." The warden replies, in a tone approaching kindness. I shake my head at his deep, empty eyes.

"No. I don't. This is it." At least I am breathing normally now. I try to focus on that. The warden leaves without another word and once again the waiting room is empty. I face the door waiting in front of the night. Hurry up Finley. I cross my legs and twist my arms in a Celtic knot behind me. Get me outta here.

By the time Finley makes it in the door I am feeling okay; I've shoved some demons back in their boxes. Outside the frenetic energy of the rain has slowed. He blinks at me; back straight and legs and arms twisted together in the greyscale waiting room. I finally trust my limbs to obey me and relax into a pose involving less effort. I don't know what to say. Hissing comes from the door behind me and I flinch. Finley steps protectively around me and I am relieved, though I shouldn't be.

"Walter," he looks at me the for confirmation, "I think we'll go outside." I nod; I need the space.

We sit outside under the eaves with rain spitting up onto our knees from the earth. I breathe in the scent of the storm, letting it cool my anger, my pain, my guilt. Just like always, water washes everything away, making mud and cleaning away the blood. Finley's presence is also calming, though perhaps it shouldn't be.

My rational cogs begin to turn. I've followed Macie's instruction so far- don't get caught -and now I have to keep it that way.

"What's up?" He asks after an elastic silence. I glance into the night and sigh. This is going to be the most worm-like thing I've ever done.

"I want to leave. Tonight." I say.

"Okay," he whispers. I close my eyes, glad he hasn't asked me why.

"Are you sure?" He asks. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to ward off another shiver.

"I can't spend another minute here." I plead at the rain and its melancholy song.

"Okay." Finley's tone is solemn. I haven't told him a thing and yet he gets it. He goes along with it.

"Hmm... the ribbons won't be ready until Wednesday." Silence hangs in disappointed strands as I scrunch my hands into a ball beneath my knees.

"Maybe I could get a visitor's pass, so you don't have to spend the night here..." Finley continues.

"No." I snap, "If you can't get me out of here permanently, this instant, I'll find some other way." I stand up and itch at my wrist. There is something flaky there like dead skin.

"Take the pledge or I'll ... find some way to sneak you out." Finley notices my nervous itching.

A glob of water splashes against the back of my neck, raising goose bumps along my arms.

"You know the answer to that. But quickly. I need to be gone." I reply. Then I shiver, partly out of cold, partly out of expectation.

"Are you cold?" Finley asks, pulling his jumper over his head. Of course he would. As he offers it to me I take stock of the choice I am making.

"Yeah," I whisper, accepting the promise of warmth. "Can we go now?"

I'm impressed that my voice doesn't crack.

He gives me a tiny smile, the only sliver of delight in this cold, hard night. "Come on, you've got a present to open."