The Tales of Flesh and Blood

Saved By Men In Pink

I hurried out of the damp cell after Ven and Odnay, with Liam hanging as limp as a doll on my shoulder. Every few seconds, his body would tense and shake with tears, but I could feel him trying to calm himself down, as if this was something he was used to. As if he knew that he had to make this as easy on me as possible if there was any chance of getting out of here.

How old did he say he was, again? Seven?

The corridor was just as dark and dim as the video that I'd seen when this whole mess began. The only difference was that I could hear a steady drip, drip, drip that signalled a leaky pipe or something similar with an occasional yell or two from somewhere above.

And there were bodies slumped against the walls, dying and bleeding on the cracked paved floor. A giant hole was evident in the middle of the floor not far from the cell where Liam and I were held, and . . .

Well, for once I'm grateful my stomach's running on empty. I stared at the gruesome site, and wondered what it would have looked like if the lighting was even remotely better. Those dark, streaming patches were blood, of that I was certain. And the bits of cloth and other things-

A none-too-gentle tug on my arm had me whipping around, away from the sight. Ven was gesturing towards the other side of the corridor.

"This way. No - don't look back," he cautioned, nudging me forward, where Odnay was already speed-walking down the hellish place. Ven took a spot behind me, and I had to force myself to focus on Odnay's back and ignore whatever else that was surrounding me. There was just so, so much blood.

Something told me that this scene wasn't going to be leaving my memory anytime soon.

"What happened?" I breathed as we made our way down the gruesome corridor, following Odnay around the occasional corner or two. Every time we turned, I half-expected to be face-to-face with other seriously deranged bad guys in children's masks. Instead, I found seriously deranged bad guys dying and slumped over the ground and walls, with holes and pieces of stone making it challenging to walk without slipping.

"We're giving the fuckers a taste of their medicine," Ven wheezed, and when I glanced over at him, he tossed me a grim smile. "They deserve this, Tria. Every bit of it and worse."

Dutifully, I tried to nod, not trusting myself to speak more at the bile burning the back of my throat.

They deserve it. Look at what they did to Liam. To . . . to your dad. His head, blown right off with the press of a button. And Liam, clinging onto me as if his life depended on it while I was still covered in our father's blood-

"Keep going, Tria," Ven encouraged gently but firmly. I looked up, picking my way around the debris, only to see the horror I clearly felt reflected back at me through Odnay's own eyes, who was reaching out a hand to help me over a particular loose patch of stone and gravel. Turns out, it was hard to walk through chaos with a seven-year-old-boy slung over a shoulder.

"Were you undercover, too?"

Odnay quickly looked away once he helped me out.

"Listen, Hale, I'm not gonna apologize," he said as we hurried our way through the maze. Lights flickered above, wires crackling and zapping from where entire portions of the building had been blown out of proportion. It was like being caught in some top tier action-packed movie, only the adrenaline coursing through my veins were caught aflame with plain out fear and terror. At one point, I found myself thinking that I would much rather be dragged out to some back-end alleyway than be here, experiencing something like this. "I can't redeem myself, but I'd be damned if I couldn't make someone pay for this."

He wouldn't look at me as he was speaking, pretending to be too focused on keeping his footing. And that might be a part of it, but his words suggested that there were other reasons than having his eyes fixed on everything but me.

Did you hurt this boy? I wanted to ask him. What about that woman? The one you slapped across the face? Why are you helping me?

Suddenly, I noticed a strange glow of light down yet another fucking hallway . . . only, this source of light looked natural, like dying sunlight bleeding in through cracks. Odnay saw this, too, and hastened his pace. I went along with him, but then I remembered Ven. Looking back, I saw him falling behind, his face pale with pain.

And, just because we've been entirely too lucky not to have run into anyone wanting to kill us, I heard a sudden rush of yells and the quick series of footsteps that suggested an oncoming reproach.

"Odnay!" I shouted, and when he turned, I gestured towards Ven. Through the shadows and flickerings of old, failing lights, Odnay clenched his teeth and rushed past me.

"Just up and around that corner. Head to the trees," he instructed, before catching up to Ven. The undercover cop tried urging him away, but Odnay responded simply by grabbing Ven's free arm and slugging it over his shoulders. I hesitated up until the oncoming voices were close enough for me to hear the words,

"Shoot every last one of the damn bastards!"

Shifting Liam on my shoulder, I eyed the dying light that was so close and yet so far. And then I ran, slipping on liquids I'd rather not know the content of, resisting the urge to close my eyes when shots were fired. Liam was holding on tight to my shirt, crying his poor heart out. Behind me, I heard Odnay yell and curse. I choked back a muffled sob of my own, nearing the corner, nearing the light before rounding the corner as freezing cold air bit at my skin-

And just like that, we were outside, caught in the minutes before the evening turned into dusk. The sky was cloudy and gray, while the sun made its hasty retreat beyond the horizon as if it, too, was eager to look away from this horror-house.

I didn't know where the hell we were at, though. A quick glance around reminded me of a prison yard, with barbed fences and cemented tables scattered around and about. But there were gaps in the fencing, and there was a thick layer of trees to my left that hid everything else from view. A damn guard tower was placed in the middle of the courtyard, and I stood, dumbfounded, at the men and women exchanging shots . . . no, there were people with masks, and then others in uniform. But not just any uniform, oh, no. They were clothed in the very same dark pink outfits Port's men would wear around the apartments.

What the actual hell?