Nada's Escape

26- Commission.

The door behind Darcell opens to reveal a warden with a face like a weasel. The muscles of my stomach tense into hardness and I dig my dig into my palms.

"Well, hey Darcell. Cheers for the commission," the reedy voice greets.

It is that warden. His head looks too small for his body, his eyes beady, his hands twitching with violence for little girls. He has always been the sort of warden who pulled lady's hair, kicked fighters in the ribs and slapped around anyone he took a disliking to, excluding few from his cruelty. There's no word bad enough for a Huntsman like him, though monster gets pretty close.

Darcell holds up a hand in greeting, "Tobias."

I feel as though something has punched me in the gut, my throat dry and rasping. That warden back on duty is the worst possible thing that could happen today. I dart up from my seat but he ignores me and disappears into the hallway beyond. Obviously the sensor above the door has begun working again. I glare at Darcell, bringing foulness and violence into my eyes. This information swap is a farce, I realise. Darcell will just steal, blackmail and torture the information out in true Huntsmen fashion.

"Well I think we're done here aren't we?" Darcell asks, turning back to me with the cavalier attitude of someone who thinks they have you in the palm of their hand.

The haircut, that stupid blonde haircut that looks like his hair just fell into it. Not quite a fringe, not quite short or buzz cut; soft curves or jagged ends, they swing as he tilts his head sideways, standing up as well. I think about placing a fist directly across that condescending smile or hitting a bend into that haughty nose but instead I drift towards the sliding doors with a semblance of bristling calm.

He copies my movements in reverse, almost lazily. Moving out from behind the table, each half-turned step of Darcell's is timed to mine. He stalks smoothly towards me as I back away. This is the true Darcell I realise, not the smirking, information swapping boy but the predator. The pure Huntsman.

I move like lightning, jamming my heel into his instep, knowing that with my back to the camera he looks as though he's kneeling of his own volition. I punch that same foot into his stomach and he dramatically arcs away from the impact to splay across the lino.

"If you don't stay away from me, you won't have any teeth left to smile with." I threaten. He laughs softly, a chuckle almost disguised as a choking cough. I dig my nails into his windpipe, lifting his head just off the floor.

"I'm sick of you trying to bully me. It stops today." He doesn't make a sound, perhaps he can't, but closes his eyes.

I drop him in disgust and emerge back into the hall with a mood like a thundercloud.

I seek out Amy but all I find are the three musketeers obliviously making up secret handshakes by my cell door. I have no time for their games so I push aside their hands with my shoulder as step amongst them.

"We have a big problem. Anyone care to tell me what that is?" I dangle the question. Guilty glances pass around me and the silence grates against my contained panic. I turn, offering my gaze back to the rest of the hall but the monster isn't in sight. I squint beyond the grate towards the visiting room and there a crooked back leans against the guard room door. I nod towards it.

"Don't look now but the monster's back on guard." A hand grabs my arm.

"But he's been gone six months. Why come back now? There's only twelve of us left." Fern's voice is a low whine.

"Exactly. What better way to motivate the remaining girls to pledge their lives away? Or distract us from escaping in our final days?" A different hand closes around my free arm.

"Bastards," hisses Josie.

"Monsters," hisses Laura.

I feel all three of them draw in around me, holding on to me and each other for comfort and strength against whatever horrors the next days might throw at us.

"Yeah well, at least we know who the monsters are," I reply and my gaze rests on the haunted weeper curled against the wall. Oddly she reminds me of the book of Tales I left in the visiting room, abandoned and forever waiting. "At least we know enough to fight."