"I want ... " I stopped, and got to my feet, wiping away the tears that were beginning to spill and roll down my cheeks. "Never mind what I want," I mumbled.
Rasmus grabbed my arm. "No. What do you want?"
I looked right into his eyes. "You." Always...
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{ Ida } 2 n d o f M a y, 2 0 2 4
It seemed strange, with the birds singing in in the trees; morning sun obscured by their leafy branches, that we were plugging air vents to a bunker and fastening gas masks onto our faces. Wrong, somehow. But we really did need food, and if you were desperate enough you would do anything if it meant survival. I still knew it was wrong, though. What if the girl Martin saw last night wasn't alone, down in the bunker? I guessed I'd find out soon enough.
Standing with Lea and the other, darker haired girl, Beatrice, they helped me fasten my long, tattered black hair back from my face with a braid while the three guys, Martin, Patrick and Jean, finished up with the vents. They figured if the oxygen levels dropped, the door to the bunker would open. Then, the group would strike. Martin and his right hand man Patrick were still cautious around me, but I didn't really care. Eventually they'd see I was only trying to make it to the next meal; the next sunrise; the next rain, just like them.
"All done," Jean said, coming up to us. "We don't know how long we will have until the oxygen levels drop low enough to kick the door open, though, if it even works."
"It'll work," Beatrice said without hesitation, tucking the finished braid inside my dirt-stained raincoat and yanking the hood up, obscuring my vision. "Martin knows what he's doing."
"I really do hope you're right, Beatrice." Lea handed me my knife and backpack back.
"Thanks." I smiled at her, trying to hide how nervous I was, then skimmed through my mental checklist to be sure I had everything.
"Hurry up!" Patrick called. He and Martin were already getting into position, looking like a pair of ninjas or assassins from one of the old action movies my mum and I used to watch on a Friday night, all in black, weapons ready.
I tugged the gas mask around my neck over my nose and mouth. We all had to wear them in case whoever was in there happened to be diseased. You never knew who to trust these days. It also helped to cover up as much of our faces as possible; something to do with the 'intimidation factor', which Martin had sorted as long as that rifle was clutched in his scarred hands.
I had been ordered to stick close to Lea as I didn't know how the group attacked, and if anything I was relieved to hear this as I could hopefully take a break from the action for once. All this time I had been completely oblivious to the fact that for almost six years I'd constantly had a razor blade pressed to my throat. One wrong move and ... well ...
Suddenly, a loud suction noise echoed throughout the clearing and my heart leapt into my mouth. I hadn't expected the oxygen to decrease that fast.
"Ida!" Lea hissed from a good few feet away, because I was just staring open mouthed at the door. I didn't have enough time to get to her so I flattened myself behind the nearest shrub; much too close to the bunker entrance for my liking. So much for staying out of the line of fire.
As I peered through a kaleidoscope of leaves, I watched the girl with short blonde hair that Martin had described to us earlier stagger out into the open forest, gasping for air. But along with her came something I hadn't expected. Or, rather, someone ...
