The Immortality Plot

The Immortality Plot - chapter 29

She felt the chill in the air as they lifted her out of the vehicle. Despite the cramped conditions and her brain being nothing more than a mushy haze, it had been warm, like being in a cocoon or her mother’s womb. Her dreams had been vivid; sometimes violent; sometimes placid and calm.

She could see even though it was like peering through a gauze screen. Above her stretched infinity, black, limitless, awesome and ablaze with cosmic beauty. Death at last. This was it. This is what human beings spent a lifetime contemplating or hiding from. But, no, she was aware. She knew she was conscious after a fashion.

She felt herself being lifted up by strong arms. She could smell the acrid stench of whisky and stared at the puffs of breath of the men condensing in the freezing air. She could feel and almost touch the intake of breath and the rise and fall of her captor’s chests as they manhandled her.

She was alive. She was not dead. Her heart leapt for joy. Was she being rescued? She began to weep. She wanted her mother. She wanted Lena to hold her and comfort her and tell her everything was going to be all right.

She could hear the harsh voices talking and swearing; the expletives sounding like gunshots in the frosty air and cracking like ice.

There was an underlying silence as though she were being carried across a mighty plain. All around her on every side stretched infinity, nothingness. Nothing except the icy wind. She suddenly experienced the most terrifying and soul wrenching isolation.

There was a building here. There were creaks and rattles, the sound of footsteps on ancient wooden steps and of an old door being opened. The panting increased. She was uncomfortable and began to babble.

“Shut the fuck up,” a voice snapped. Then another voice said.

“Give her something to keep her quiet and let’s get out of here.”

She was placed roughly on a wooden floor. The wind had died but she could hear it prowling around the outside of this building. Wherever she was it seemed to stretch above her into darkness and she was surrounded by the smell of rotten wood and decay. It was an old, abandoned smell; the smell of the past.

She could see the hulking shapes of the men towering above her. She could hear their voices but she couldn’t focus on the words.

“Who’s got the sedative?” one voice asked.

“I’m giving it to her now,” replied another.

“Hurry up, this place gives me the creeps,” a third voice interrupted.

“Better get a blanket,” said the first voice. “We don’t want her dying before her time.” The others laughed.

Rachel felt her arm being exposed and then the prick of the hypodermic. Moments later a heavy weight fell on her but it was warm. She began to dream and float across open fields and streams.

It was Christmas. She and Robert were laughing and opening presents surrounded by a mountain of torn wrapping paper. A Christmas tree stretched up and up to the ceiling. Daddy was opening a bottle of champagne and mommy was fussing in the kitchen. Rachel was idyllically happy. She knew she never wanted that day to end. She never wanted the dream to finish.

••••

Delaney and Ryan reached her Washington apartment, showered and changed. While Delaney packed his few clothes and laptop, Ryan made sandwiches and coffee. They ate and drank in silence both lost in thought. Then Ryan spoke to Delaney.

“You haven’t told me exactly where we’re going or what the plan is.”

“No, I haven’t,” he said, checking the time. It was early evening. “I don’t know exactly what time Rachel is being dropped at the location tomorrow morning,” he told her. “I reckon she’ll be delivered and dumped a few hours before The Priest is due to arrive. He’s only going to make a move if it’s one hundred percent safe. If he sees any signs that a vehicle has been around he might well abandon the hit. If we get there before she has been delivered, they could abandon the drop. It’s all in the timing. I suggest we try to get some sleep, then leave. It could be a long night and a day.”