Adrian Smith - The Fourth Phase

Ian followed her up and slammed his glass down on the desk, spilling the tequila. “You’re going to regret that, Yank! And your little friend Becs? I’ll send her out on the next tribute. Oh, and Alice? They have special plans for her. Yes. Special plans for her.”

Maggie could see spittle forming at the corner of his mouth. She cast her eyes down to the tequila bottle. It was within easy reach. She could grasp it. Break it. And jab it into his throat.

Ian barked out a laugh. “Go on, Yank, do it. You’ll be dead within moments, and your friends too.”

She spun around and flung open the door. Ian’s cackling laughter followed her down the hall.

Maggie exited the building and strode out over the grass, heading for the gardens. She needed some space and time to calm down. Breathing in the cool night air always helped. She reached the gardening shed and sat down on some bags of potting mix. So many questions swam through her mind, each bobbing to the surface, demanding answers. Questions she didn’t have answers to. Why were they here? What was Ian talking about? Tributes? To succeed at warfare, you need intel. She had very little of that. She remembered reading The Art of War . It was full of wise quotes. The plan she had put into motion for their escape was based around her favourite: “In the midst of chaos, there is opportunity.” She smiled. Yes, Ian. I have a special plan for you. But first, I promised a little red-haired girl a story .

Maggie rose and made her way towards their sleeping quarters. She could see a dim light shining through the window. Good. She still had time. She sniffed and wiped her nose, memories of her own daughter rising to the forefront of her mind. As unwanted as the memory was, she welcomed it. To relive any memory of Isabella was a treasure. Laughter, hugs, and tears. Falls, running around the park, swinging from trees. Baking in the kitchen, flinging flour around, making a mess. Sitting on the sofa, snuggled in watching Toy Story for the one-hundredth time. Isabella’s delight at school, and making friends. Her first birthday party, stuffing so much sugary food into herself she was sick for two days afterwards.

Maggie couldn’t believe one could love another human being so completely. Izzy had become sick not long after her eighth birthday. Frantic visits to doctors, and many tests later, it was discovered that Izzy had a rare form of leukemia. They tried everything, but only a year later her baby had passed on. And Maggie’s world crumbled into a chaotic mess. She buried herself in her work as a nurse. Maybe if she could help others in their hour of need, the pain would go away. As hard as she tried to forget, though, the pain remained.

She and her husband grew apart slowly. It began with them sleeping in separate rooms. The excuse was her shiftwork. It led to them hardly speaking to each other. When they’d needed each other the most, they’d each abandoned the other. Maggie had never felt so alone and directionless. She’d popped a few pills one day, to try and bury the way she was feeling. Within a few months, she was an addict. After one night of bingeing, Maggie sat watching the TV in a stupor. Show after show of mindless drama. Amongst the haze, she saw a recruitment ad looking for more medics in the Army. She’d joined the next day; anything to escape the hell her life had become.

In the Army, Maggie had found a new purpose in life. Defending her country by helping others when they were having their worst day ever.

The shadow of the sleeping quarters snapped Maggie out of her teary memories. She smoothed down her shirt and walked up the stairs. I may have lost Izzy, but my family needs me now more than ever.

Maggie entered the room, the fragrance of the rose-scented candles burning lifting her mood. She made her way down the gap between the bunks. She and Alice shared a bunk against the back wall near the window. Maggie could see Becs sitting cross-legged on Maggie’s bed, a pile of books spread around her.

“Hey kiddo.”

Becs smiled up at her. “Hey.”

Maggie returned the smile, and her eyes flicked to Alice, who was brushing out her long blonde hair. “What story is it tonight?” Becs held up one of the books. “ The Witch in the Cherry Tree by Margaret Mahy? Looks good.”

“It’s my favourite.”

Maggie sat down on the edge of the bed. “Scoot over a bit.”

Becs moved the pile of books and Maggie leant back, getting comfortable. Becs snuggled into her as she began to read, enjoying the warmth emanating from the child.

Later, Alice helped Maggie lift the sleeping Becs up off the bed. They gently placed her on her own mattress and tucked the blankets under her chin. Maggie motioned with her head towards the two chairs next to a small table before moving over and sitting herself down. She waited for Alice to get settled, mentally going over the plan she had to get them out of this prison.

Maggie licked her lips, watching as Alice brushed her hair away from her face.

Alice caught her gaze and smiled, dimples forming on her cheeks. “So, what did Ian want?”

Maggie shifted her weight off her bottom. Trying to get comfortable on these wooden chairs was difficult. She mulled over what to say. “Not much, He offered me a job, but I told him to shove it.”

“Job? Don’t you already have one in the gardens?”

“Yes, exactly. We didn’t get to the job description though. I stormed out.”

“Does he know you were in the Army?”

“I think he suspects but doesn’t know for sure. Unless someone has told him?” Maggie watched Alice, looking for any sign of betrayal. Her face remained neutral, her blue eyes glittering in the low light. “How did you get on with your guard friend?”

Alice dropped her gaze, looking to the door and then back to Maggie. “Ah, good. You were right. They leave the keys in the vans.”

Maggie nodded. “I thought so. This is good news. That’s one less thing to worry about. And the red jump suits?”

“Kept with them in their rooms. Jill from the laundry said she can get us a couple.”

“Good, good. What about those newbies? Do they know where we are?”

“Yeah, yeah, they did. They said we’re just south of Putaruru.”

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Which means what, exactly?”

“It means we’re close to the coast and a boat.”

Maggie nodded, contemplating this new information. Remembering the piece of paper she had been palmed earlier, Maggie pulled it from her pocket. “ New gas in today, 10.” She smirked, some air escaping her lips in a whisper.

Alice glanced down at the paper in her hand. “More good news?”

Maggie looked up at her, grinning. “Yes definitely. Do you think you can get us those jump suits tomorrow?”

Nodding, Alice replied, “Should be able to, yeah.”

“Good. Excellent.” She patted Alice on the leg. Giving her a squeeze, she lowered her voice. “I want us gone by the day after tomorrow. We leave at 0400, and we’re taking Becs.”

Alice stared back at her before turning away and looking out the window. “What about the others?”

“We have to save ourselves first. Let’s get Becs to safety. Try to find some semblance of an Army. Then we can come back and free everyone.”

Alice turned back around, her eyes widened. “The newbies. They said they were on the way to Mayor Island. They were in contact with someone there. They went looking for fuel to make the journey, and were ambushed by these bastards.”

Maggie sat up straight and stretched out her legs. This was excellent news. It was the break she had been waiting for. For three weeks she had played along, done her work. Today was the first time she had let her anger and frustration get the better of her. Ian and his baton made her skin crawl, and his eyes gave her the creeps. She smirked to herself. We’re getting out of here, Ian. I have a surprise for you.