Nada's Escape

27- Fighter.

I watch through the bars of my small room, lock on the outside. I've already struggled with Amy's self-made lock picks to open the old dead bolt. I see Lily, one of the weepers, awaken and head out into the night with the weasel faced monster. I slip out afterwards, ready to intervene when a soft coo interrupts me.

"Nada," I turn to make out Macie, half out of her doorway. My opposite in disposition, Macie gets a room with a bolt on the inside, a show of trust after her months of crawling. I scuttle over in the waiting darkness of the sleeping hall. I stop before her, checking over my shoulder for cold spidery hands that I am sure I can feel.

"He's here again, isn't he?" She whispers and I shiver. She motions for me to enter and I do so with trepidation, surveying the dark, spartan sleeping place. She reveals a Swiss army knife from her pocket. The white cross is no more than a pale smudge. "There's only one shot with this." She opens a blade. It is like a tiny sliver of hurt. "You'd have to hit the right spot on the first try or it's over."

"No!" I step away from her in alarm. Macie pauses and her face twists itself into a glare.

"He will find a way to come back again. The wardens promised to take him off duty last time. Now look." Macie is convincing and I curse Darcell once again - thanks for the commission. "This should have been dealt with months ago. Someone has to stop it." Macie continues, tightening her fist around the tiny handle.

"Someone has to fight for us." She tries to stumble past me for the door, but I gently take the knife from her. It feels heavy, like I am carrying a claymore instead. An equal weight of dread settles inside me.

"You're right and it's my responsibility," I say and in the dark I can't tell if her face shifts to relief or anger.

Macie takes my knife hand and holds the blade between us at eye level. "If you do this you have to get rid of the scum forever. He can't come back here ever again." She is more than angry, Macie is vengeful, a whole river of revenge gushing out from under her crawler façade. In the dark her round face is reduced to sharp cheek bones and a furrowed brow.

"I understand." I reply gravely. I've already wasted too much time, I realise, and turn to go. But Macie isn't finished.

"Don't get caught. Once it's done you can't stay here. They'll never forgive you." She whispers. I nod although nobody can see it. I slip back through the hall like a wretched demon, clothed in shadows. So many feelings cloud my short journey. Macie's vengeful words have imprinted themselves on me but my mind shies from thinking ahead. A constant annoying thought is Darcell's input. Thanks for the commission. Thanks for the commission. Thanks for the commission.

I slip into the toilet block, taking in the scene in a moment. Toilet cubicles to the left, showers straight ahead and bare sinks to the right. Dead ahead the monster has cornered Lily in a shower cubicle. My bare feet splash across the floor, giving up my advantage of surprise.

"Get the hell away from her," I order, though my voice catches. He twists, revealing Lily's sobbing face. I keep the blade hidden by my side in a fold of my shorts. He sneers and I splash closer. He jumps forward without warning, sending an outstretched hand at me. I block with a blow to his elbow.

"Come on sweetie pie," he wheezes. I aim a kick for his knee and he moves in response but I don't comprehend it. Because the bathroom is tipping sideways around me as I slip. Vertigo clutches my mind so that my arms spin out uncontrolled. I am righted just as quickly but the monster's fingers are around my wrist, twisting my arm behind my back.

I gather my balance and my thoughts. The knife remains clutched in my free hand. Options light up in my mind: high for the kill or low for distraction. With jerky steps I push backwards until I can feel his solid body behind me. I thrust behind me for his thigh and fate must be with me because it sinks into flesh, all the way. The fingers on my arm tighten, pushing excruciating pain back into my shoulder. He is staggering back and pulls the knife from my slick fingers. His hand relaxes on my arm and I don't waste the opportunity to kick behind me, hitting.

I break free of him and hear a crack behind me. I wince and whirl. His form is slumped across the floor under a basin, no more than a dead bump on the ground. Bleeding slowly into the wet concrete. I stumble for the shower. Lily is curled in the corner and I reach out for her as gently as my shaking hands allow.

"Come on, we have to go," I plead but she turns away from me. I see dark liquid from my hand has dripped onto her dress and I recoil myself. I stagger back to the basins, turning on the first one. Then I realise I'm standing in his blood and my breathing hitches. I drip to the next basin, hitting the faucet, scrub my hand under the cold water. I let it run but the gushing sound is far away. My gaze snags on the body again and I cough-gag.

They'll kill you for this. This is no time to lose it. A clock starts ticking in my mind: the time left until someone finds this mess. Lily has to get out of here. Walking back to her I stroke her hair, my wet fingers snagging on the dry strands.

"It's okay. Come on." I start picking her up but she doesn't want to use her legs. She slumps into me and I half carry, half slide her out of the stall. Here I see a problem. The basins have overflowed and now there's a stream of dark liquid between us and the door. So I hike her up in my arms, gathering up the trailing white dress out of the blood. I grunt; she's a lot heavier than little Penny.

As we cross the floor I watch her face as she understands the body on the floor. Eyes widening to grey horror. She struggles then in fear, bucking up out of my arms. She scrambles out the door before I can think to calm her down. I chase her into the yellowed light and get hit by a wall of wind and water. The sky is gushing. I can barely see my own feet, let alone Lily. I hope she's found somewhere safe to hide.

I raise my face to the rain, thanking the weather for washing all the blood from my feet. My internal clock ticks impatiently until I splash over the wall and round to the window of the guard room.

I tap on their window like a ghost, shakily unclasping the pearls from around my neck, "Finley. I need to see Finley."