The drip, drip, drip sound of the rain leaking through this small, dark prison is unbearable. Shivering, I wonder again what time it is. There is now where to tell in the gloom and doom of this place.
“Read it again,” I try to tell Shiobhan.
“I already read it, like, nine times,” she replies.
“Just once more,” I plead.
She sighs as she takes out the small, tattered document and the small pen light she found in her pocket.
“The batteries are going to run out on us,” she urges.
“So?” I say lamely.
“Fine, I’ll read it. ‘By the authority of the Queen and the written rules in the Book of Law, I hereby declare that Shiobhan and Raine have broken rules 39, 42, 17 and 12. Therefore they are liable to punishment. Above all they have claimed to come from Outside and speak other blasphemies. This is a violation of rule 3 and is punishable by death. They will be executed in front of the whole of Northern Orit so that every Ortite may heed the rule and learn to obey. Signed, Lady Eretta of the Judges.’” Shiobhan falls silent and I go back to listening to the drips.
“I have never heard of ‘Orit’ before, have you?” Shiobhan inquires.
“No,” I respond, lost in thought.
The silence ensues as we sit. Suddenly standing up, Shiobhan declares, “There has got to be some way out!”
“Just give up already!” I cry harshly. “There’s nothing we can do, we are going to die. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can stop looking for false hope.”
“I never thought you a quitter, Raine. I know it looks bleak but we have to try. If we give up looking there is no way we’ll find anything, is there?” she states.
“What’s the point of…”
Before I can finish the prison door slams open and two soldiers come striding in.
“We have come to take you,” one of them declares formally.
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” I mutter sarcastically.
Frowning, the soldiers grab our hands and tie us up. They lead us to a plaza in the middle of the town and escort us up a small fleet of stairs. All that’s on the platform is a chopping block and a sharpened axe. I shiver as I climb the stairs up to the platform. This can’t be happening! Just as I think I’m about to throw up, I hear a loud smack behind me. Turning around all I see is Shiobhan grabbing the unconscious guard’s sword before I realize what she’s doing. Putting all my anger into the punch I throw at the guard coming towards me, I am surprised to see that my hit was hard enough to bring the man on his knees. I follow Shiobhan’s example and grab his sword. Rapidly, I race down the stairs and into the now hectic crowd. I’m thinking how great it is that I didn’t have to use the sword, when I hear shouts coming from the crowd. Exhausted and scared I turn around to see what’s there.
Ping! The sound of my sword bouncing of another weapon vibrates in my mind. All I’m thinking is, I can’t use a sword, yet, even though I’m far from winning, I am currently dodging this guy’s attempts to dislodge my head. Suddenly, I’m falling. The stony ground pushes all the air out of my lungs. Before I can get back up, the soldier I was “fighting” is pushing his cold, metal blade into my back. I let out a scream as the world goes black. I am dying.
