The Fourth Phase

SIX

Maggie paused outside the yellow door, her hand raised ready to knock. Absently, she read the sign stuck on the door. Manager. The guard posted outside stood a few metres away, his gaze lingering on her athletic figure. She narrowed her blue eyes as she followed his gaze sweeping over her curves. He didn’t even try to hide it. She pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear and rapped on the door.

“Come in,” called out a muffled voice.

Maggie took a deep breath to calm her building temper and pushed through the door. The skinny frame of Ian waited, leaning against his desk, his brown eyes watching her, a smirk planted on his face.

She returned his gaze, a sour tang forming in her mouth. “You wanted to see me?”

Ian motioned to the free seat on her side of the desk. “Please, sit. Would you like a drink? Some tequila arrived today.”

Ian moved around the desk and eased himself into the chair behind it.

“No thanks. Can we get to the point? I’d like to see Becs before turning in.”

Ian swivelled in his chair, turning his back to her. He reached out and grabbed a bottle of tequila from the shelf, the glass clinking against the tumbler as he spun back around. His eyes narrowed. “I know you hate me, Maggie, but I want to offer you a job. Better rations for you and Becs. I might even spare you both. Look at this like an opportunity.”

“Spare us?”

Ian placed the tumbler down and poured out some tequila.

Maggie ground her teeth. Tequila? In a tumbler? Sacrilege.

He smirked at her. “What? Did you think this was a nice little holiday camp where you could all live out your lives and the creatures would leave you alone?”

Heat rose through her stomach and up her neck. She clenched her fists under the desk, her nails cutting into her palms. “Of course not. Tell you what. You tell me what’s going on here and I’ll consider it.”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not? Is it that bad?”

“Listen, Maggie. We all did what we had to do, to survive. I can’t tell you. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ve worked it out. Some of it, at least. I might tell you later. When you are on board with the programme.”

Maggie stared at Ian as he sipped on his tequila.

He swirled the liquid around in the glass, watching her through the sloshing liquid. “So, do you want to know what the job is?”

Maggie thought about her work, about how most of the children never stayed long. Her suspicions regarding their fate angered her.

“Whatever the job is, you can shove it up your ass!” Maggie pushed herself out of her chair.

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.

Maggie and Alice stared out the window, enjoying the silence. Nothing moved outside. Maggie could hear the occasional screech of a Variant, but they sounded far in the distance. She had heard them closer before, but normally much later in the evening. Their presence intensified in the early hours before dawn. Maggie decided she needed to do some recon tonight to find out why.

Alice looked up at her, getting her attention. “Why do you think these guys are helping the Variants?”

Maggie leant in closer. “Because they are scorpions.”

“Scorpions?”

Maggie smiled. “Yeah, scorpions. You see, one day, a scorpion was walking through the jungle, looking for his next meal. After a while, he came to a raging river. The scorpion looked around for a log or some rocks so he could get across, but found nothing. He needed to get across that river. After a while, a frog came along and the scorpion yelled out, ‘Hey, how about a lift across?’ The frog turned to the scorpion. ‘No way. You’ll just sting me.’ So the scorpion says, ‘Why would I do that? We’d both drown.’

“The frog thinks about it for a while. ‘All right. Jump on. Let’s go.’ About halfway across the raging river, the scorpion stings the frog. The frog turns his head and asks, ‘Why did you do that?’ to which the scorpion replies, ‘I couldn’t help it. I’m a scorpion.’”

Maggie looked up at Alice. Alice had her mouth hanging open. They looked at each other for a few seconds. Alice let out a small laugh and giggled. Maggie couldn’t help but laugh with her. It felt good to laugh after all her frustrations. She stood up and rolled her shoulders. “I’m going to turn in. Big day tomorrow.”

Still giggling, Alice replied, “Yeah, good idea. Night.”

Maggie walked over to her bunk. Pulling off her boots, she tucked them under it, within easy reach. She lay still, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes, mulling over her plan. It was simple, but simple plans were the best; less to go wrong. She glanced over to Becs, sleeping peacefully. Satisfied, she let sleep pull her into its embrace.

The crack of the wooden door smashing into the wall of the room jolted Maggie awake. She threw back the covers and instinctively reached for her rifle. Cursing, she focused on the four figures bursting into the room.

Ian stood, swinging his police baton, behind one of his muscular goons. “Wakey wakey, ladies!” He eyeballed Maggie, a sour smirk plastered on his pointy, ratty face. “Don’t worry, we’re only here for one of you.”

He lifted his baton, pointing it at each woman in turn. “Not you, not you. Oh, I like you, I’ll save you for later.”

Maggie stepped closer to Becs. Reaching out her hand, she clasped Becs’s, pulling the shaking child into her side.

Ian spun around. He swung his baton and let it thump onto the wooden floor. Raising it, he smirked at Maggie, a cruel glint in his eye. “Yes, Maggie. I’m here for her. Did you really think I was going to let you get away with that? What did you say? I could shove my job up my arse? Well, I don’t think so.”

Becs started sobbing, pressing herself closer into Maggie.

Maggie looked up at Ian, teeth clenched. “If you touch her, I’ll end you!”

Ian cackled, his laughter echoing around the room. Several of the women in the room moved away, putting distance between themselves and the men.

Ian indicated to his goons and they moved towards Maggie. She backed up closer to the wall. One of the goons pulled out a Glock and grasped Alice in a headlock, pushing the gun against her temple. Ian grinned. “I’ll give you a choice, Yank. The girl, or I splatter Alice’s sexy head all over the wall.”

Maggie glanced at Alice. A vacant look had come across her face. She focused her eyes on Maggie’s and nodded, accepting her fate. Distracted, Maggie didn’t notice the other two goons flanking her. She turned at the movement, jolting her head to one side. A meaty fist slammed into her head, followed by a blow to her side. The strikes were powerful and strong, and pain exploded up her spine. She dropped to one knee, losing her grasp on Becs. The other goon reached out and picked up the squirming girl.

Maggie gasped for air, each breath hurting. She glared at the grinning Ian staring at her, an amused smirk on his face.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

Maggie stared up at him, heat rising up through her body. She pressed one fist to the floor as she struggled for breath. “This isn’t over, you skinny little bastard.”

“Oh, but I think it is, Sergeant.”

Maggie struggled to keep her face neutral.

“Yes. I know what you did before. That’s the problem with women. You talk too much. You can’t help it. Talk, talk, talk. You never shut up.” Ian swung his police baton up and pointed it at Alice. Turning to the goon with the gun, he said, “Bring her too. My bed needs warming tonight.” He turned and raised an eyebrow at Maggie crouched on the floor. “Sleep well now, you hear.” Then he slammed the baton to the floor, causing the other women to jump.

Cackling, he turned and stomped out of the room.

Maggie glanced up at Alice. Catching Alice’s eye, she mouthed, Stay strong. I’ll come for you.

She wasn’t certain, but she thought she saw Alice nod as they hauled her down the steps.