Cia Rose Series Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 11

  Eventually, Harriet stirred and her head lifted. She glanced absently over her shoulder, probably thinking she was still dreaming.

  “Harriet, it’s me, look here!”

  Her tired eyes tried to make sense of Cia’s face.

  “How are you there?” Harriet asked.

  “Listen, I don’t have much time. That poem you recited, it–”

  She heard some commotion and for a moment, thought someone was coming down the stairs. She shot a wide-eyed look in that direction, to find no one.

  She couldn’t do this here. She just had to get them out.

  But how?

  Then she remembered. The keys. Hung on the far wall.

  She ran to the hook, collected them, ran back. Searched for a key that would fit the lock, shoved it in, turned, and creaked open her cell.

  “Come on!” Cia said.

  Harriet looked cautious. Full of trepidation. Torn between staying and going. As if she didn’t know what to do.

  “What are you waiting for?” Cia said. “We have to go – now!”

  Harriet shook her head.

  “You want to stay?” Cia asked, bemused. Why would she want to stay?

  “I have a purpose here.”

  Cia stepped forward and took Harriet’s hand.

  “Harriet, you don’t have a purpose here. Look what they’ve done to you. They are killing you. If you stay, you won’t be helping to repopulate the Earth, you’ll be dying.”

  Harriet looked to the steps leading away from the dungeon, back to Cia.

  “Harriet, please.”

  “But I–”

  “You’re infertile,” Cia pointed out, trying a different approach. “You have no use here. And they are just going to hurt you. The only way is if you come with me, but it has to be now.”

  Feeble conflict spread across Harriet’s frown. Cia didn’t give her any more choice. Taking this moment of thought, she seized Harriet’s hand and stood her up. Harriet wobbled as she stood, and Cia noticed just how thin her legs were. Cia dragged her forward, but she stumbled.

  “You go,” Harriet said, her voice so quiet. “I’ll hold you up.”

  “You are coming,” Cia said, no qualms or reluctance in her voice. “That’s the only way.”

  Cia dragged her forward, feeling some resistance as Harriet struggled to keep up; but she was so light it didn’t take much to pull her.

  Cia took Harriet up the stairs and paused at the top, looking down the corridor.

  Two guardsmen approached. One of them spoke into a radio.

  “Yep, we’re checking the dungeons now.”

  Cia backed up, edging down a few steps and turning to Harriet.

  “Stay here,” Cia told her, and turned to go around the corner.

  Then didn’t.

  She halted.

  They had guns. She had an ice pick. How was she supposed to win this fight?

  She turned to Harriet.

  “Listen to me,” she instructed. “And do everything I am about to tell you to do.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Cia ran out from her cover, sprinting toward the two guardsmen, using their immediate surprise to gain ground. Just as they raised their guns, she withdrew the ice pick and went for the closest one.

  He ducked out of the way, but she’d expected that and she jumped onto him, straddling his back. He stumbled around, firing his gun into the air, forcing a puff of smoke and a tumble of stones to collapse from the ceiling. The other guardsman leapt out of the way. Cia plunged the ice pick into the man’s throat.

  As he went to the ground, suffocating, grabbing at his neck, blood trickling between his fingers, she picked up his gun.

  She’d never handled a gun before. It was heavy. Not what she expected. She pointed it at the other guardsman and fired, but such was the kick of the gun that she missed, and the bullets flew into the wall behind him.

  Footsteps came from the distance.

  She refocussed her gun on the guardsman pointing his back at her.

  The other guardsman bled out, his body twitching the last remnants of his life.

  Cia stood in a standoff with this guard.

  The footsteps grew louder, probably responding to the bullets.

  Harriet slowly inched out from behind the door, covering her mouth in shock at the dead body beneath Cia.

  “You did that!” she gasped.

  “Harriet, please do not move. Just stay there.”

  The guardsman smiled.

  Footsteps pounded. They were coming, and they were coming for her.

  Soon, this one guardsman would be more.

  “Okay, Harriet, now’s the time,” Cia said. “There’s another gun in this guy’s pocket.” She kicked the corpse beside her feet. “Grab it, do it now.”

  Harriet walked cautiously toward the body, her eyes remaining on the gun-wielding guardsman. She couldn’t look at the corpse as she felt for the gun, but she still found it, a smaller one this time, on his belt. She picked it up and backed away.

  “Okay, now remember what I said,” Cia said, as calmly as she could, aware that a dead body beside her feet could easily freak out Harriet’s fragile disposition and ruin everything. “Now’s the time, Harriet. Now’s the time.”

  Harriet raised the gun. Looked at the guardsman, who glanced cautiously in her direction.

  “No,” Harriet stated, and pointed the gun at Cia. “No, it’s not the time. You need to put the gun down.”

  “What the hell are you doing, Harriet?”

  Her gun clattered between her shaking palms. The guardsman grinned, his arrogance entwined with triumph. Look at how well they had brainwashed her. They locked her up, tortured her, and still she’s their pet.

  “I’m not doing what you said. You need to put the gun down. Put it down, or I’ll shoot.”

  Shadows of the guardsman’s backup hit the far wall.

  “Do it now, Cia.”

  Cia began to lower her gun. She had no choice.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Cia had known Harriet would break.

  But she also knew that, beneath the wounds, Harriet was strong. She had to be – she’d survived this long. Daily violence, subjected to the cruellest of treatment and, yes, she did cry – but who wouldn’t? If anything, that showed her strength. That she wasn’t numb, that she still felt her emotions, and she still knew they were there.

  That’s why Cia knew that Harriet would not let her down.

  “Listen to me,” Cia had said, just before leaping out to face the oncoming guards. “And do everything I am about to tell you to do.”

  Harriet had looked back at her, eyes full of fear.

  “You can do this,” Cia said, sensing the need to reassure her. “You can, I promise, this is all going to be fine. If you do this, no one will hurt you. But you have to do exactly as I say. Can you do that?”

  Harriet didn’t reply. Her face was smacked with vulnerability. Her lip curled, and she looked like she was about to cry once more.

  “Stop it!” Cia demanded, grabbing Harriet and shaking her. “You are going to survive, and you are going to get out of here. You won’t ever have to do these horrible things again, you understand? I just need you to do one big, brave thing for me first.”

  She didn’t move.

  Then she nodded.

  And there they were, Cia lowering her gun, backup arriving around the corner. Three of them. With guns. Ready.

  “You idiot,” the guardsman said as Cia’s gun fell to her side. “You think she’d help you?”

  Cia looked at Harriet, holding the gun, still shaking, still pointed at her.

  “Harriet…” Cia said.

  The other guardsmen arrived at the end of the corridor.

  Cia kept her finger over the trigger of the gun held at her side.

  “Get on your knees,” the guardsman instructed.

  Cia did as she was told. The guardsman stood over her. Crotch in her face. Smug look beaming downwards.
<
br />   “I should do the worse things imaginable to you right now,” he said. And she could smell him. Sweaty and filthy. Pressed up against her cheek.

  “You think there’s anything more you could do to me?”

  The guardsman let out a strong guffaw. “This is day one! You have no idea.”

  The three new guardsmen laughed along. Their hold on their weapons was casual, like they didn’t need to hold tight, like there was no need to keep their guns trained on her. They had her, after all.

  Cia turned to Harriet. Met her terrified eyes.

  Cia smiled. Gave a slight nod.

  She turned back to the guardsman, opened her mouth and bit down hard. He screamed, but she didn’t let go; she just clamped her choppers down on what little there was to work with.

  Harriet shot her gun – but not at Cia. As per the plan, she shot the guardsman standing over Cia in the face.

  Before the other three guardsmen regathered themselves, Cia had released her teeth, turned, and sprayed her gun from side to side, to side, to side, to side. Back and forth she sprayed them with bullets and saw them jolt and jump and fall into a messy pile on the stone floor.

  Harriet began to weep. Cia ran up to her, cupped her face, looked directly into her eyes. She was struggling with this, Cia could tell, but she’d done so well – so, so well.

  “You were brilliant!” Cia claimed.

  “I… I killed him…”

  “It was him or us, Harriet. It was him or us.”

  “I… I can’t believe I did that…”

  “Come on,” Cia said, knowing she was going to have to compensate for the weight of Harriet’s conscience. She took hold of her hand and dragged her through the corridors, from corner to corner.

  A few guardsmen appeared at the end of a corridor and Cia didn’t hesitate. She dropped Harriet’s hand, gripped her gun in both hands and sprayed bullets in their direction until they dropped.

  The gun ran out of ammunition. She looked at it, no idea what to do next. She hadn’t been particularly experienced with automatic weapons, and refilling ammunition wasn’t a practice she was accustomed to.

  It didn’t matter. They were close now. She dropped the gun; she could do without it

  She clutched Harriet’s hand and ran through the corridor, to a set of steps, and up to a door.

  Then she stopped.

  Behind that door was the exit. But, between that exit and them, was the main part of the church.

  And she remembered walking through this large room the first time. Filled with men. Sleeping, arm wrestling, gambling, whatever – she just remembered the way they stared, the way they looked at her like an innocent victim who required nurturing and discipline.

  She looked back at Harriet.

  Commotion sounded in a distant corridor behind them.

  There was only one way out, and it was through that room – and, by the sounds of it, they were going to have to embrace that task quickly.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “There is only one way we are going to do this,” Cia told Harriet, her voice confident, her face serious. “And that is if we run.”

  “What?”

  “Between us and the door is a room of men. Most of them are sleeping, or doing other things, so we have the element of surprise – that’s all. And we have to get past them before they realise.”

  “I – I don’t think I can.”

  Cia shook her head with a wry smile.

  “Don’t think you can?” she echoed. “Look at what you’ve done so far. Look how far you’ve come, how close we are. Don’t think you can? Harriet, you were born for this.”

  Harriet smiled. Couldn’t help it.

  That, and the sound of shouts from down the corridor, prompted time for action.

  Cia opened the door very slightly, enough to look through the crack. Her breath caught as she saw how many men there were and, for a brief punch of worry, she wasn’t sure if she could make it.

  Her reassurance: they were all distracted. They weren’t armed fighters, guardsmen, or anything like that. They were all simply sleeping or relaxing or talking. These were not their warriors, these were their Breeders, and that gave her the advantage.

  “Don’t look at anyone,” Cia told her. “Don’t look at how many there are. Just focus on that door on the far side, and on keeping up with me. You understand?”

  Harriet nodded, as confidently as Cia had seen her nod so far.

  Good enough for her.

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Cia burst the door open and ran. No one looked at first, as if they were used to random noises. Then the door slammed shut behind them with a thud that echoed around the church, and almost everyone’s attention was pricked.

  Cia looked over her shoulder to see Harriet running with her, her face a mess, contorted with anxiety, but sprinting nonetheless.

  People sat up from their resting places, turned from their games with sets of cards poised in their hands, ceasing conversations to stand and look.

  Cia didn’t let it get to her. Just looked at the door, in the distance, between the pews.

  “Oi!” one man shouted, evidently starting to understand what was happening.

  Cia tried to run faster. Everything in her ached under the strain, a stitch stabbed her side, but it didn’t matter. She just had to run, and that was what she did.

  “Stop them!” another shouted, standing up.

  People began to stand, slowly, just to see what was happening.

  Another glance over her shoulder told Cia that Harriet was still there – but, far behind Harriet were a set of guardsmen exiting the corridor they had fled from.

  She turned back to the door. Halfway there.

  “Block that exit!” one of the guardsmen shouted.

  A few of the men got up and ran to the exit.

  “Move!” Cia shouted.

  The men looked to each other, perplexed, unsure what to do. Do they block the exit, or do they not?

  It didn’t matter.

  Cia reached the exit and ducked the swipe of their arms, bursting out.

  Looking over her shoulder, she saw one of them grab Harriet’s ankle. Harriet tripped up, halfway over the threshold.

  The guardsmen were gaining on them.

  Cia took out the ice pick and shoved it in the arm of the man holding onto Harriet. With a yelp, he let go, and Harriet ran out.

  Looking back at the ice pick still jammed in the man’s forearm, she decided to leave it. Relinquish the weapon, it didn’t matter anymore.

  They ran across a gravel path, past a single-lane country road, and into the safety of the nearby trees.

  A screech boomed across the atmosphere. A monster – one of the non-human ones – was nearby.

  Harriet began to slow down, began to stop.

  Behind her, the guardsmen aimed their guns.

  Cia grabbed hold of Harriet’s waist and took her to the floor, allowing the bullets to fire over their heads.

  “Keep low, move fast,” Cia said, using as few words as possible.

  “I can’t,” Harriet said, grabbing her side.

  “You’re going to be in pain, it doesn’t matter, you have to move.”

  Keeping hold of Harriet, Cia dragged her onwards, running around the trees, in and out of them.

  Another screech. Cia glanced overhead and saw it. A Maskete, soaring overhead, circling.

  More bullets, scraping bark off a tree.

  “Come on!” Cia urged Harriet.

  The Masketes overhead grew lower, circling faster.

  The guardsmen shot, more bullets, more close calls.

  Harriet fell again, landing on an upright twig that scraped her side as she fell. She clutched it, writhing, rolling.

  Cia sat over her.

  “Harriet, come on, please,” she urged.

  It was no good.

  The Maskete’s screech grew closer.

  The guardsmen stopped running and paced forward, taking a more acc
urate aim with their guns.

  Cia looked to Harriet, who was frantically immobile. To the sky, where the creatures were circling. To the guardsmen, with their guns pointed.

  Cia raised her arms.

  She was caught.

  All of this for nothing.

  And, just as the realisation settled on her brain, fighting her denial – just as she accepted it – her salvation swooped down in the form of a group of Masketes.

  Cia ducked, covering Harriet and taking them to the cover of a bush. She watched as the first Maskete took the nearest guardsman’s head clean off. The other guardsmen scattered, but it was no good. The second was torn in two, the third was forced to the floor by a claw in his chest, and the fourth was grabbed in the claws of a Maskete and taken away.

  Cia kept low, covering Harriet, waiting, hoping they hadn’t been noticed.

  The screeches grew fainter, and fainter still.

  Cia looked to the headless body of the nearest guardsman and suppressed the need to gag.

  “Okay, Harriet, get up,” Cia said, lifting her up, helping her limp.

  “Can you run? Just a little bit?”

  Harriet attempted, and managed a light jog.

  “That’s fine, we can do that. That’s fine.”

  They carried on like that until night came, until enough distance was put between them and the church that Cia’s heart could finally slow its rapid succession of punches against her ribs.

  THEN

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Cia wondered how something so big had been built so quickly. Then again, maybe she was being naïve to think that no one had known about the attack before it happened.

  After getting off the train, they had been directed through a forest, unable to tell where they were going. They arrived at a small metal dome, rising up to about the size of a bungalow. Despite its small exterior appearance, Cia had been reassured that it went miles and miles underground, with enough space to fit nearly a thousand people. Cia tried to imagine what was underground, what could be there, what resources there were.

  She imagined if all those people on the train station knew about this, they would be even more angry. She wondered why, if this was available, they weren’t all being saved as well.