A Danger That Lurks In The Darkness | A TPQ AU |

XXIII | Anchor In The Sea

MINI
TWILIGHT had fallen. The setting sun offered the sky a few hours of light, but there was no doubt that the clouds would shadow the light. 

The gravel crunched beneath her feet, as she steadied her own breaths, her hand hovering around the holster of her gun. 

Their eyes were fixed on the chain-link fence that surrounded the junkyard. 

“Let’s go,” she said, quietly. 

“Container 223,” he said, under his breath. He patted the radio strapped to his shoulder. “We radio each other if we find… anything,” 

There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, like he’d wanted to say something more, but decided to not say it. 

“Be… safe,” she said, quietly. 

She heard his breath catch, as he said, softly, “You too.” 

The gate opened with a creak, impossibly soft. 

“You go left, I go right,” she said, her gaze darting to the gravel-lined path. 

“Fine.” 

They separated, her last look of him being his frame tensed, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon, a sad look in his eyes. 

————

Stones and bits of glass crushed under her feet, as she heard the faint shriek of a bird in the distance. She nearly jumped out of her skin, glaring up at the steadily darkening sky. 

She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her neck, and her palms grow itchy and sweaty. 

It’s fine, she tried to tell herself. You’re not off-guard right now. You’re on guard. 

The snap of every twig, and the ruffle of every leaf made her jumpy, though. 

Snap out of it, she tried to tell herself. The anxious part of her would not listen, though. 

Suddenly, unwillingly, the thought popped up: What if Sheela’s dead? What if we’re… too late?

She stopped in her tracks, her fingers trembling, her breathing shaky. What if they shot her? What if they did something worse? 

Rudy’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. 

“Did you find anything?”

“Um… no. You?” 

“I… think so. Which container are you at?” 

“339. They’re all arranged randomly.” 

“I know. I’m at… there’s number 16 to my left, and there’s… 103 in front of me?” 

“Keep looking?” She advised him. 

“Mhm,” he hummed back, and she heard the static of him going off the radio. 

Get your head in the game, Mini, she told herself, sternly. You need to help Sheela. You need to… keep your promise. 

Usually, the ‘promise’ would have barely held any effect by this point, but it was holding the last threads of her sanity, and preventing her from breaking down into tears. Like an anchor in a particularly stormy sea.

It wasn’t just the promise that was holding her back from drowning. She glanced at the radio, strapped to her shoulder. It was him. 

She felt the phantom touch of his hand on her back, his voice in her ear: We aren’t helping Sheela if we break down! 

She steeled herself, straightening her spine, calming herself down. She glanced at the containers to her side, shining the torchlight on them, her gun feeling awkward in just one hand. She was used to shooting with both her hands, but her left hand was basically useless for shooting, so she was forced to use her right hand. She could aim and shoot properly, thankfully. 

The light met the numbers ‘435’, which were bleeding and chipped, yellow against the rust-red container. 

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, frustration finally setting in. 

What if I was wrong? What if we just wasted more time and Sheela’s in more danger—

She glanced around, shining her torch at the other containers. 

A small gasp escaped her, as the light shone on number 223. 

“Rudy,” she said, quietly. “I think I found it.” 

“On my way,” he responded. “Where are you?” 

“Take… 3 lefts from where we separated,” she recalled, quietly. 

“Alright. I’m on my way.” 

She slowly walked toward the container, her gun pointed to the latch. 

A few breaths passed. One, two, three…

Her eyes narrowed. Her breath stuttered. The latch was unlocked. 

There’s somebody who’s used this. Maybe even inside. 

Her hand hovered above the latch. 

Deep breaths. She pushed the door open, her torchlight falling on the filthy floor. She glanced at a lump in the corner. 

“I’m here,” she heard his voice behind her. 

He shone his torch in the general direction, as the light fell on a dark lump, against a cupboard. It was… moving?

She took a cautious step forward, before whispering to Rudy, “I’ll need your torch,” 

He nodded, slightly, and she switched off her own torch, leaving her injured hand free. She slowly extended it toward the lump (which was something… covered by a blanket?) 

She could hear her breath stutter in her ears. She pulled the blanket off, her heart stuttering to a near-stop, catching sight of a familiar face, a familiar shape. 

She heard Rudy’s loud gasp behind her, as her gun nearly fell out of her hands. 

Her legs gave way, as she fell to her knees, her voice arrested by momentary shock. She took a steadying breath, before whispering, “Sheela?” 

She stirred, dirt streaking her face, her voice holding the barest beginnings of hope. “Mini?”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “It’s you? Is it really you?” 

She pulled Sheela into a hug, tears falling down her own face. 

“You’re here?” Sheela asked, clutching her. 

“Did they hurt you?” 

Sheela didn’t answer Rudy’s question, but just continued crying, before whispering through her sobs: “They’re going to kill us all.” 

————

a/n: so, how are y'all doing? Any secret Santa plans?