Barren

Triggers

It's funny how your senses can trigger unwanted memories to force their way into your consciousness. It doesn't happen as much as it used to, but on the rare occasion that it does, it's overwhelmingly paralysing.

It had been a long, wet shift and my bed was a welcome sanctuary. Only my face exposed to the cool night air, the rest of my body relaxed and heavy in the warm blankets. The dark trailer was peaceful and if I listened hard enough,  the sounds of the complex would tell me familiar stories of its night; Weaver laughing with the other guards at the gate. The sounds of doors opening and closing and keys turning. I'd just about worked out which footstep patterns belonged to each soldier, guard or warden. The captives were pretty quiet, long-stay assets and half occupancy made for peaceful nights. I liked listening to the sounds, it stopped my mind from wandering.

My eyes started to feel heavier and my thoughts drifted into that nowhere space between wakefulness and dreams.

A whistled tune danced its way into my dreamy state, I knew it -an old song from before. What was it? The soldier's whistling grew louder, closer to the trailer.

The words played out in my mind, fragmented by time, but still there.

In the year 2525...

Yes, that's it. What was it? There were more words forming in my head...

If woman can survive.

My heart began to pound and my body began to feel tense, I had to stop myself from falling deeper into dreaming. I tried to swim out of the memory to get away from the emotion but it wouldn't let go. An awareness of my body lying limp and still, wrapped in covers came to the forefront of my thoughts. If I could just move I could wake myself. My body wouldn't respond. I focussed all my energy on moving my fingers - nothing. The words of the song momentarily came dancing back.

Your arms hangin' limp at your sides

"Noooooo.' The intensity and volume of my shout felt like nails scratching the inside of my throat. Throwing the covers to one side, I leapt from the bed and found myself standing in the rain on the step outside my trailer. My chest heaving up and down, I searched the orange gloom for an anchor, for a threat, for anything. There was no one there. My eyes flitted in panic from one shadowy area to the next. Who had been whistling? I'd heard it. As my breath steadied I felt a large drip of warmth land on my left bare foot. Looking down I saw my combat knife gripped in my hand, its blade smeared in blood and a deep slash to my left forearm. I must have cut myself when pulling my knife out of it's sheath from underneath my pillow.

"Shit."

I stepped inside, shut and locked the trailer door. Leaning inside the bathroom,  I pressed a towel to my wound, it was bleeding pretty heavily. I didn't light a candle, keeping a careful eye on the windows , looking for any signs of movement. Blood was already soaking into the towel.
Pressing my wounded arm against my body, I pulled my boots onto bare feet and threw my jacket over my shoulders. Silently unlocking the door, I slowly opened it, checking the surroundings before heading towards the complex's rear gate. I kicked the door hard with my foot and the viewing hole slid open to reveal Weaver's dark brown eyes.

"It's Carter, let me in."

The door swung open and Weaver clocked the blood soaked towel instantly.

"Shit Cassie. What happened? Hold it up over your head." He pushed my arm upwards over my head. Manouvering me out the path of the gate to close and lock it."Yo Peters. Take over at the gate I gotta take a leak." he shouted as I walked down the passage way to the medical lab.