My Songbird's Dream

23. Whispers in the Wind

November 1941,
Occupied Seoul

As Etta drifted slowly back to consciousness, the first thing that penetrated her clouded mind was an awful pounding in her skull. She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut with a soft groan, trying to retreat from the pain and strange disjointed voices filtering through the throbbing.

She shifted slightly, realizing she was lying on an unyielding wood surface, its gritty texture stuck onto her chilled skin, some of the residue could be felt in her Afro. Etta's brow furrowed in confusion and growing alarm as questions surfaced her thoughts.

Why was she barely dressed and chilled to the bone? Wherever she was, it reeked powerfully of fish, salt, and body odor. Her stomach turned as she swallowed down rising nausea.

While Etta struggled to recall how she came to be in this nightmare, the muffled voices outside the room grew louder. She forced her heavy eyelids opened to mere slits against the stabbing agony in her head. Blurry shapes swamed sickeningly around her like specters. 

"...need to tie him?" an impatient voice was saying. She thought she recognized the sharp tones of Yong-su.

"Merely a precaution," came the indifferent reply. Etta's heart stuttered, seized with paralysis. She knew that voice too, its owner evoking memories of cigarette smoke and cruelty that turned her blood to ice.

What was Dachi doing here with Yong-su? And where exactly was here? Fear's taunting fingers crept through Etta's disoriented mind as she desperately tried piecing together some recollection through the pounding anguish.

Etta squeezed her eyes shut against the waves of pain and confusion swirling in her aching head. She tried focusing on the muffled voices as her fragmented memory struggled to supply answers.

Yong-su was speaking again, tone irritated. "This mess draws unnecessary attention. I wanted to simply talk. This, this makes it so that we NEED to dispose of them. Did you think this through?"

Dachi gave a rough chuckle. "Patience. We have privacy enough here..."

Loathing twisted Etta's gut at the implication. Squinting through the gloom, she could just make out stacked crates, coils of rope...the gentle lap of water against a dock. They were at the shipyard somehow, shooting was nearby, so there must've been... a base or..." she sighed for a moment as her headache returned.

Etta jerked against the ropes binding her own wrists, mind racing wildly. The sharp dig of fibers brought flashes of memory - the early morning raid, Freddie bound, a blow knocking her unconscious...

Freddie! Was he captive somewhere nearby too? Was all she could think as fresh panic sent Etta's pulse into overdrive. Soon all she could think about was that she had to get free. Gritting her teeth against the blinding ache in her skull.

Etta went still, feigning unconsciousness once again as she strained every sense trying to plan their escape from this nightmare. That was when the creak of approaching steps ratcheted her dread impossibly higher.

Etta forced her body to go limp, slowing her breathing to feign continued unconsciousness. Over the frantic drum of her heart, she tracked the heavy footfalls drawing closer on the other side of the worn door. The steps paused and she pictured a figure hovering there, considering. Waiting.

Her veins turned to venom when the door suddenly slid open with an awful screech. Rancid dock odors flooded the cramped space along with the overpowering stench she knew too well - cigarette smoke, like a ghost's breath wisping through the room. Etta's chest constricted, air trapped in her lungs.

She felt the weight of eyes on her form and had to fight every instinct not to recoil. A boot scraped closer along the gritty floor until Dachi's tall silhouette blotted out the wan light from beyond the door. Still pretending obliviousness, Etta hardly dared exhale.