Who Were They?

S E V E N - Emotional Turmoil

ClLING-A-LING-A-LING!

“Arrr…” 

“Come on, Sam, out of bed, now.”

Cathy opened her eyes to catch Taylor leaving the room, all the memories from the night before came flooding back to her, she remembered the alarms and sirens, her breathing, the asthma attack and the gun.  The gun, she could feel the echo of its weight still in her hand, she remembered the force and the power of it.  The gun frightened her so much.

She pulled herself out of her sleeping bag and changed out of yesterday’s old clothes.

“Here eat this” was the greeting she got when she entered the kitchen.

“Thanks” she munched on her toast quietly.

“Today we are going to do some extensive training.  Those guys we met last night won’t stop till they find you, they’ve waited seventeen years but they won’t wait longer than that.”  Cathy couldn’t meet his eye.  She couldn’t quite take in all that happened in the past month let alone what was happening in the here and now.

She finished eating her breakfast and went outside to meet Taylor who had been preparing the day’s activities.  She was afraid; afraid of what he would turn her into and afraid if she had to pick the gun up again.  She saw what it did to their car; she hated the thought of what it could do to a person.

They started it off with a run, four miles running around the hills and into the valleys and back round again.  Taylor was in front of her the entire time; he had a good pace and didn’t appear to look as if his lungs were burning.  Whereas Cathy was struggling, her legs were on fire, each hill hurt her knees, and she felt her lungs gasping for air (which had little to do with her asthma).

Once they had run, they did combat training, at first with fists then with knives.  He wasn’t being lenient on her.  true she had been training at the institute but Taylor was bearing down on her, he even caught her with the knife a couple of times.  She protested asking for a break but each time he said “No”.

They were still training when the heavens opened and the rain lashed down in torrents of water, but Taylor didn’t stop.  They pounded one another, until something in Cathy’s head snapped and she swung a huge punch and caught him on the chin, then she pounded and pounded and pounded him, he caught her leg pulled it upwards and fell onto her back with a thud, tears streaming down her face.

“What” he panted “Was that?”

Cathy didn’t reply, she knew if she opened her mouth, the words would flow and the tears would never stop.  Instead she got up and put her back to him.

“We should continue”

“No” she added quietly.

“Excuse me?” he questioned with an authoritative attitude.

“I said no, I am not continuing with training to today.”

“Sam, we have to train.”

“No.  no I don’t.” she said defiantly.

“We are going to train.  NOW”

“Oh, so you’re ordering me around now?  Well I said no, so I am not going to.”

In reply to this he threw one of the knives (not blunt training ones she had used at the institute but real, fighting knives) and it landed between her feet and into the dirt.  She pulled it free and dropped it onto the floor, and then she ran and ran and ran.

She reached the top of a hill; she could see the cottage in the distance.  The tears were coming now, stronger than before, she looked up to the sky and screamed.  Her energy left Cathy and she sank to the ground and sobbed her tears held all the sadness that had been contained inside of her.  The sadness for her aunt and uncle, the holiday that they should have gone on but now never will, the sailing award ceremony she was preparing to go to, the sadness of what these people were turning her into.  She missed her life, the carefreeness of it, the way she could carelessly laugh with her friends, something she wasn’t sure she ever could again.  But she was angry.  Angry at the parents she had never known and the mess they had gotten her into.

A pair of strong arms enveloped her; she glanced up and saw the side of Taylors tanned face near to hers.  He looked uncomfortable like he didn’t know how to comfort someone but he held on anyway.  Cathy’s breathing slowed as did the fall of tears.  Her throat was hoarse.  Wiping the tears from her eyes she apologised to Taylor for being such “a wussbag”.

 “Nah, it’s okay.  If anything… I should be apologising.  I was pushing you hard” he was looking into her eyes, his eyes were pale blue, Cathy noticed “because you don’t deserve any of this and, erm, and you need the training because it is what will keep you alive.  Missions such as this are something only the highest ranks would do, so I’m sorry.  And I, erm, would see to hate you die… it would be bad on my reputation otherwise”.  He gave her an awkward little smile which Cathy realised was the first smile she had ever seen him use.  Normally his face was composed and hard, a shell, a shell induced by years of training.  He stood his posture “army straight” and he held out his hand to pull her to her feet.  Once she was ready, they walked back to the cottage, both deep in thought about their past, present and their futures.

 I need to decide if I should create a more intimate between Taylor and Cathy or not, so please if you have any suggestions I would happily welcome them :)

Oh and thank you for reading :)