Walking wounded
England, November 2060
Emily shot an anxious look back to the hospital campus as she staggered towards the safety of the woods, the deep gash in her side burning angrily and threatening to overwhelm her. The clinic rose out of the landscape like a fortress, the scattering of surrounding trees and privet hedges failing to obscure the concrete walls and rusting razor wire beyond. Its origins as a prison were unmistakable even now, decades after the Norwegian Death had all but emptied the place of any inhabitants. The guards remained, of course, but their main purpose now as they sat around the towers, smoking cigarettes and pointing their guns at the occasional wandering deer, was to keep people out rather than in.
Aptly it had been a women's prison in its day, famous for harbouring a notorious child killer who resided there long after her sentence had ended, primarily for her own protection rather than that of the public. Emily had been given the story during a tour of the site when she first arrived at the clinic, where the decay and neglect of the exterior thankfully stood in stark comparison to the gleaming corridors and state of the art facilities of the hospital hidden within. She had been so excited that first day, an Alice in her own Wonderland caught in the headlights of smiles, technology and promises. A new life would soon be growing inside her, not even from a donor but part of her, her own egg fixed just long enough to survive those first few precious days, which would surely make the bond between them even deeper when it was born?
But the dream had quickly turned sour. She'd been at the clinic less than two days before she heard of the discovery, a nurse with a loose tongue talking too loudly in the corridor outside. The news had shattered her, the walls of her room closing in and threatening to suffocate her, a prison cell once more. Her sister had often accused her of being weak, with her over-reliance on other people to aid and support her whenever things got difficult, and it was only then that Emily realised it was true. Now, though, she was alone and what happened next was up to her. She'd managed to steal an extra dressing gown from the bathroom that evening and a scalpel from a lab a few hours before that during another tour. Her clothes had been stored when she'd arrived, and a short surgical gown was all that was supplied in the warm surroundings of the Gamma block. Outside, however, it was late autumn and so far the English weather had not been kind.
What happened next was still a blur. She'd waited until the dead of night to make her escape and after years of struggling with work on the farm she was finally glad to be small, her light frame making her soft-footed and easy to hide from the patrolling night staff. It hadn't helped her navigational skills, however, and she'd managed to get lost twice before even reaching the stairs, the dim night lights obscuring the passageways and making them seem identical, with only the different coloured shades of floor tiles giving any clue to her location.
Getting out of the building without raising an alarm was one thing, but sneaking through the side entrance guard post unseen would be much more difficult. At least the security here was all focused outwards she reasoned, but it hadn't stopped a guard spotting her. Why he hadn't called for help she didn't know; perhaps a small young woman was something he thought he could handle himself, or perhaps the sight of her in nightclothes had stirred something in him where he didn't want to be disturbed by other people. It didn't really matter, he was on her in seconds, the flashlight shining in her face with a demand for identification. There had been a struggle, a pointed gun, a scalpel and a cry of pain from both of them. She'd broken free as the guard clutched at his groin and nose, and ran off into the night.
And it was here that she found herself, clutching the stab wound in her side while the sirens wailed and the torch beams came ever closer. Nature was her ally for now, at least, as warmer weather had rolled in, condensing the wet air and creating a thick fog around them. The woods, she remembered, were next to a road at the far end. If she could just make it there then maybe she might be lucky and flag down a late night traveller, or at least find somewhere to hide until early morning. The wound didn't appear deep or life threatening, but it did hinder her movement, causing a sharp intake of painful breath every other step and slowing her down. She wondered if the guard was okay. She hadn't meant to harm anyone, she just needed to escape.
The shouting and beams finally began to recede into the distance, the search dogs that would have been guarding the old prison thankfully absent now, and Emily allowed herself the luxury of hope for the first time.
The fog that was concealing her from her would-be captors was also hiding dangers on the ground, however, and the deeper into the thicket she went, the worse the terrain got. As she struggled through the undergrowth, the low-hanging branches tore at her thin clothes and snagged her long curled hair, both of which were now soaked by the mist, making her body shiver and teeth chatter. Each movement made the pain even worse and it began to obscure her vision, making her wonder if perhaps the wound was more serious than she'd first thought, or had nicked something important? The thought of it made her laugh inexplicably. If only her sister could see her now, the little girl who would howl with pain from a paper cut now a desperate and injured survivor, clawing her way through a forest in the middle of the night.
Her humour was short-lived, though, as she suddenly came face to face with one of the clinic guards, his torch pointed at the ground allowing him to sneak up on her. It was the same one as before, a man not much older than her, with a balding head and bloody nose. This time, there were no attempted heroics on his part.
“I've found her!” he shouted, causing the distant beams to all focus their gaze on Emily's location. “You stupid bitch, what the hell are you doing? We're trying to help you! Thought you'd gone crazy or something?”
“Get away from me!” Emily screamed back, more in shock than anything else. “I know what you found, what you are going to do!”
“I have no idea what you're talking about. Look, my name's Sebastian. We're just here to get you back to your room and safe.” He looked down and noticed the growing patch of wet blood on the side of her gown. “Sorry if I scared you before, but that cut really needs to get seen to.”
Emily actually found herself believing him, but quickly realised it didn't matter if he was telling the truth or not, the result would be the same. She heard a distant rumble slowly growing in volume, followed by the unmistakeable sight of car headlights. The road! She was practically on top of it and hadn't even realised. Sebastian pre-empted her next move and made a lunge for her, missing her arm by fractions and cursing as his foot slipped on the sodden ground. Emily spun around and sprinted off as the man struggled to his feet, the adrenaline cancelling her pain for a brief instant. It was a debt that would be paid back in spades later she was sure, but that was a worry for another time. All that mattered now was getting away, back to Andrzej and the others.
She ran out into the road, lungs heaving, only a few yards in front of the car, causing it to slam on the brakes and steer violently to avoid her, before finally coming to a stop a short distance away. The front passenger door opened and a man in a large coat clambered out, his features obscured by the darkness and the peak of a baseball cap.
“Help me!” Emily pleaded. “There are men after me!”
“What's your name?” the man asked, which struck Emily as an odd thing to ask given her situation, but she answered him anyway. “Emily Palmer.”
The man held a finger to his ear and repeated the name slowly and clearly, which made Emily even more confused. What was going on? Surely the guards would be on them both any second?
The man nodded slowly. “Sorry babe.”
Emily's final memory was staring at the gun barrel in surprise, and the flash of light as the trigger was pulled. She was dead before she could hear the sound.
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