Tainted Blood

Chapter 8

The morning was welcomed by clouds and rain, a cover for the infiltration that was soon to take place. Under darkness, Spencer fled from the manor, her blade strapped to her back and knives safely stored in a holster on her thigh. The wind and rain clung to her hair as it fell from its braid in a mess of blonde, her eyes wild as she flittered between lights, guards, and loyal canines as they guard their humans while they slept. Safely tucked away in the warmth of their beds in their stone houses whilst others suffered under the sheet of poverty that her father was hellbent on ignoring. No sound came from her boots as she ran onto the cobblestone of the gardens until she finally reached the mud-soaked gravel of the Favela. She slowed through the streets, pulling her hood further over her face as strings of cold ran down her cheeks. The tip of the morning sun peaked through the rain-soaked horizon as she hurried to the western gate where the armoured van was waiting. She watched as the black creature peered at her, tucked against the brush of the wilderness to hide from prying eyes. The driver watched her carefully as she neared the back; three knocks, that was the signal, and as rehearsed, the relieving click of the back lock rung out as she opened in and crawled inside, escaping the icy assault of the rain.

The car was dark as she searched for the textured duffel that held what she needed to leap the wall and get into the Pit where the retriever would be waiting close by. The car slowed as she pulled the fabric towards her, unzipping she reached for the grappling hook and quickly fastened it around her waist, loading the contraption, she grabbed the gloves from the bag and slipped them onto her shaking hands and shoved the small map into her chest before zipping the shirt to her neck and fastened her small black mask Anna had given her with the message "don't get caught." The familiar hum of the iron wall rung through the air as she opened the door, rain still pelted the ground, however, the sun now offered a sheen of light as it strained to reach its place in the sky. She quickly scanned her surroundings, noticing the lights and the pattern of which they moved as well as the armed guards whose snipers pointed at the ground both inside and outside the wall. Slowly, she slipped from the car and into the shrubs as she waited for the signal. Behind her, the van pulled away into the darkness, leaving only her, her plan, and her thoughts. Minutes passed before the signal came, an alarm triggered in the Metropolis squadron of the wall. All guards began to flock to the alarm, leaving an opening for Spencer. Quickly, she ran from the shrub to the wall, avoiding the spotlight; she stopped at the exact spotted listed on the map in the compound, she took the gun in her hands and pointed it to the sky. Her finger clutched the trigger as the hook flew up the iron giant, leaping out from sight. A fraction of a second and the line was pulled torte. Spencer fastened the gun to her side before beginning to scale the wall at a fast pace, pausing and hiding the spotlight passed her or she heard the frantic footsteps of a guard.

As she reached the top, her hand grasped the damp, iron rail and she hoisted herself over. Quickly, she pushed herself up against the wall of the platform that overlooked the Pit. Spencer tensed as she looked down to the grey, smoke ridden hell; words could not explain the feeling that lay at the bottom of her stomach as she overlooked the crumbling buildings, soot covered rooftops and the maze-like structure of the prison. She closed her eyes and inhaled, offensive and gut-wrenching smells seeped into her as she pushed herself from the wall and towards the other side. She was low on time and was yet to make it down the wall. The outbursts of nearby guards as the alarm ceased was a quick indication that she needed to leave now, unfastening the gun from her waist she hits the trigger again and the line loosens. Behind her, an armed guard begins to aim his rifle, his screams telling her to halt. A breath escapes her as she throws herself over the wall, the rope screeched as she descended, the wind whipping past her, shots begin to ring out over the side, bullets ricochet against the metal. However, she was too far out of reach for their aim to be of any use. She hit the mud hard, unfastened the rope from her waist and ran into the darkness of the Pit. The smoke offered her cover as she skidded behind a concrete pipe. Her chest rose and down in panicked breathes as she ripped the mask from her face and slid down the slide. She pooled her hood to her face. The sun barely peaked over the wall as the rain pelted against her skin. The sounds of guards and alarms began again as she slipped her mask on and slipped further into the smoke and further into the Pit.