Critically Dead

The world had been black for some time. The fight had been over before it even started. Allison opened her eyes and sat up. Everywhere around her was forest. There was a sickening silence before she recognized where she was. She stood up and looked around. There was no possible way they had taken her here, was there? The Croatian forests were unmistakable though. The trees, so small in their spacing that it felt like a cage. Navigation was hell in it without any sort of compass. Allison looked down. Her gear was gone. Her NI suit as well. She was in her coveralls. She looked back up and turned around, looking for anything or anyone else. No one else was there, so she started walking.

The forest seemed to go on forever. That thought crossed her mind in enough time for the woods to end. She stepped from the treeline and looked. She remembered this place. A small village called Generalski Stol they were sent to clear. It was nestled along a major highway, and command needed it empty in preparation for the establishment of a Forward Operating Base. They had come up from the south to investigate and recon the area. The place had been a ghost town, like most small villages were nowadays. Many had been abandoned as people consolidated in the face of the infected threat. Safety in numbers.

Before Allison could take another step in, the world lit up. An explosion beside her knocked her down. Gunfire erupted. Rockets streaked in. Something came over the radio.

“Allison! Come in!”

She looked behind her. An ARES team came running in. All three were converging on her location. Her hand waved and she saw the metal arm of her ARES now.

“Stay back!”

There was a shot. A heavy caliber round tore off one of the team’s arms. Rockets came in from overhead, pounding the village into rubble. Allison got up to run, but her whole world was consumed in flame. She looked down, seeing her body on fire, and screamed as she tried to pat it out. Hands reached from the flames and grabbed onto her. They pulled. She resisted. Faces emerged. Faces she knew all too well.

“You left us to die!” They screamed, distorted by the roaring fire. “Deserter! Deserter!”

“I didn’t! They-!”

“You deserve to die like we did!”

Allison screamed.

Something hit her in the back. Her body shunted forward. It collided with something. Cold. Hard. Damp. She took a breath and opened her eyes. The world before her was dark. Candles gave a barest hint of light. She looked around and tried to pull her hands to her face. They were tied behind her back and wouldn’t budge against the rope. She panted and looked around.

“Hey!” a voice called out.

She stiffened up.

“Are you finally awake? Christ, you must’ve been having one fucked up dream.”

Allison rolled onto her back and sat up.

“You need to keep it down. Don’t need the guards coming back early.”

The voice was a man’s, no doubt. But she couldn’t see him.

“Where are you?” She asked.

“I’m not sure that’s the question you should be asking right now.”

Allison blinked. Her mind rewound the events through her head. She spoke again.

“Okay…where am I?”

“You’re in a castle. Specifically the dungeon of a castle.”

Allison sighed. Her head ached from the oxygen and blood deprivation that she had been inflicted with by the mystery man earlier. He had taken her to the castle and threw her into a cell. Terrific. Fan-fucking-tastic. She looked around again, now that she had woken up. Her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, but she still couldn’t barely see anything. She stood up and saw the iron bars through the dim candlelight. She bent down and stepped under her arms, getting them out from behind her back and in front of her body.

Chains rattled idly in the distance. Water dripped onto the hard stone floor. Her hands grabbed the bars. They were icy cold, even through the NI suit. She let go and stepped back. Her eyes could make out the slumped form of someone to her right.

“Who else is here?”

“Not sure.” The voice came from the shadow, as it stood up. “But I know that people like you don’t last long.”

“What do you mean?”

“Saw another guy with a uniform like that on. They took him after an hour and I never saw him again.”

Allison heard him step towards her. The candlelight bathed over him just enough for her to make out his uniform. It was American woodland camouflage. She noted the patch on his right shoulder. A shield with a black horse rearing up in it.

“11th Armored Cavalry…” She said.

“Yep, that’s right Little Miss Wirewench. Blackhorse Regiment.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Not long. A day…maybe. Time is funny. Speaking of, what time is it now?”

“It’s-” Allison looked at her wrist and saw her watch was missing. She also noticed that everything else she had geared up with was gone too. “Of course…”

“Figures. Psychological warfare is a bitch.” The man said.

“Yeah, well, it’s not anything I haven’t been trained for.”

“Yeah, you guys did tend to get more special treatment.”

Allison let the remark slide and decided to refocus on what was important.

“You got a plan?” She asked.

“Do I? Well all we need is about 5 tons of C4 and we can make our own exit. Unless you fancy crawling out the sewers?”

“So that’s a ‘no’ then.”

“It’s not a ‘no’, it’s just all about time and manpower.”

“Right, well, let’s focus on what’s attainable.”

Allison looked around. They had no real way to make any sort of escape through clever means, which left brute force.

“What do we have to work with?” She asked.

“We got some chains on the walls and that’s it.”

“It’ll have to do.”

“What?”

“We brace the chain around the door, we can pull it off if we put our backs into it.”

“Yeah, okay, and then what?”

“I haven’t thought that far yet.”

“This your first time escaping capture?”

“Technically no. You?”

Silence was the answer.

“You got a better idea, I’m all ears.” She said.

“Fuck it. Beats sitting here and rotting until they come to smack me around some more.”

“That’s the spirit. Now work with me, here.”

Allison kicked the walls, dragging her foot against them until she found the chains that were bolted onto it. The hope was that the years had not been kind to the metal. And that it would give from the wall. They worked fast, each of them bracing their ropes against the chain and their feet on the floor and wall as they pulled. After Allison was about ready to give up, the mount broke free and they stumbled across the floor. The chain rattled loudly. Both of them froze, listening. After a few minutes of silence, they figured that no one had heard and picked up the chain.

Now it was time to get it around the door. Allison felt with her hand for a sort of hinge or a lock. The door was located on the other side, opposite from where she was. They both threaded the chain through the bars and wrapped it around the far end away from the hinge. It was simple physics. Now they did the same thing, only this time the metal groaned. It warped and snapped after a concerted effort and many instances of counting to three. The metal had given way and broken off, but Allison noticed that it was only the two bars they braced the chains against and not the entire door.

“Well, that’s great.” The man said.

“We can squeeze through. Come on.” She shot back, her voice a hushed whisper.

They stepped out. Allison felt the cold for the first time through her feet and looked down.

“Oh are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?”

“They took my boots too. Bastards.”

“Well, that sucks.”

Allison looked at the man. She saw him next to the candle. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. His scruffy black hair was also out of regulations. He looked older. Worn out. But with war and its effects on the human body, it was hard to tell how old he was since combat ages you faster. He looked at her.

“What?” He asked, perplexed.

“What’s your name?”

“Faulkner. Yours?”

“Allison.”

“Oh right. You don’t get last names.”

“No. No we don’t.”

Allison turned around and started to walk when she heard footsteps. Both she and Faulkner immediately stood to the side.

“Shit. How do we get past?” He asked.

“We got this. And we got you and me.” She said, holding the chains up.

She saw Faulkner roll his eyes, but it was better than nothing at the moment.

“I’ll jump out and wrap the chain around his neck. You make sure he doesn’t try anything cute.”

“Whatever you say, wirewench.”

The footsteps grew louder. There was the harsh sound of metal scraping against itself as the door was unlatched and opened. More footsteps. Closer…closer… Allison waited until the last possible moment before she sprung out and whipped herself around. The chain wrapped itself around the man’s throat. He choked and gurgled as he tried to scream. She moved the chain all the way around and then pulled hard, putting her knee into the small of his back. She against braced him as she kept the chain taut around his neck until, suddenly, there was a muffled snap. The man went limp and fell to the ground. Allison breathed and looked at Faulkner.

“Hot damn, girl.” He breathed.

“Let’s grab his gear. I got a feeling we’ll need to play the part to get out of this castle alive.” Allison told him.

“What do you want me to do?”

Allison thought to herself. She could have him trade uniforms and put her in interrogation while he searched for the armory with her gear. Or she could don the uniform and do the same, but she’d have to talk her way through a lot of people, and he had probably already been interrogated once when he first arrived. She still had to contact command and let them know she was alive. No doubt they were already trying to bug her radio or try to break its encryption. She had no idea how long she’d been out for, but a bad plan acted on today was better than a perfect plan acted on tomorrow. She looked at Faulkner.

“How good is your German?”

“Good enough.”

“You pick up on the lingo they’re using?”

“Yeah, some kind of religious nutjobs we got around here.”

“Okay…well, it’s not a great plan but one of our best shots is faking a prisoner transfer or we both look the part and try to walk out of here. But I need my radio first. Can you fake the disguise?”

“Sure can. I did some acting back in my day.”

“Alright.”

“What’s the plan?”

“You’re taking me to interrogation. Try to pump some information out from the guards about my belongings. If someone gives you trouble, say you’re under orders from on high. We’ll detour to the armory, get what I need, and then move outside and grab a vehicle. Sound good?”

“That sounds like an awful plan. Let’s do it.” Faulkner said with a wry smile.