Cop & Robber
West to Freedom
There was no moon gracing the skies over Secler the night of her escape. No being that would ever help her was witnessing her barefoot dash across the rocky silt, weaving to dodge the bullets that ripped through the night air. The escapee felt the tingling warmth of the searchlight on her back. Momentarily her shadow was cast before her, undulating on the uneven ground. She veered to the left and felt more bullets zip past, snatching at the tattered prison uniform that hung about her haggard frame. Men were yelling orders. She heard them marching after here. Their pace quickened, each one-two, one-two quicker than the last.
In the dark of the night, she didn’t see the cliff until it was almost too late. She skidded to a halt and fell backwards in the dust. She scooted back away from the drop on her hands. The searchlight fell upon her now, also illuminating the coming troops. She got to her feet and jumped off the cliff face. A lifetime passed before she landed in the Compes River rushing far below. She hadn’t known the river was there before she jumped. She just did it impulsively. Anything was better than living life in a cage.
The current was too strong, even for her. It knocked her to the river-bottom. Each blow to her body felt worse than one of the guard’s bullets. Images swam before her in a current of memories. Aunt and Uncle Raun yelling, “Kaila! You had better be doing what we told you to be doing!” She wanted to burn them like she had been accused of doing.
Arson, they called the crime; arsonist, they called the offender. All lies on a framework that didn’t favor her case to begin with, past offenses that had never been taken to court.
Kaila fought to break through to the surface. Her lungs burned. She needed to get air, and get to the shore. The river was pulling her towards the coast, towards Industria, towards chains. She needed to be traveling upstream, to the inland Zegra Mountains, and to a free life.
The river went around a sharp bend and Kaila was thrown against the rock that lined the river. She clung to it and edged her way up the underwater cliff. The air was bittersweet as it stung her lungs. She laid on her back on the embankment at the water’s edge, greedily drawing in breath, not caring nor thinking, content with simply existing.
A thought interrupted her calm and planted itself in her head. West. Go West, Kaila. West to freedom. The thought blossomed into a lovely weed that would not be ripped out.
In the dark of the night, she didn’t see the cliff until it was almost too late. She skidded to a halt and fell backwards in the dust. She scooted back away from the drop on her hands. The searchlight fell upon her now, also illuminating the coming troops. She got to her feet and jumped off the cliff face. A lifetime passed before she landed in the Compes River rushing far below. She hadn’t known the river was there before she jumped. She just did it impulsively. Anything was better than living life in a cage.
The current was too strong, even for her. It knocked her to the river-bottom. Each blow to her body felt worse than one of the guard’s bullets. Images swam before her in a current of memories. Aunt and Uncle Raun yelling, “Kaila! You had better be doing what we told you to be doing!” She wanted to burn them like she had been accused of doing.
Arson, they called the crime; arsonist, they called the offender. All lies on a framework that didn’t favor her case to begin with, past offenses that had never been taken to court.
Kaila fought to break through to the surface. Her lungs burned. She needed to get air, and get to the shore. The river was pulling her towards the coast, towards Industria, towards chains. She needed to be traveling upstream, to the inland Zegra Mountains, and to a free life.
The river went around a sharp bend and Kaila was thrown against the rock that lined the river. She clung to it and edged her way up the underwater cliff. The air was bittersweet as it stung her lungs. She laid on her back on the embankment at the water’s edge, greedily drawing in breath, not caring nor thinking, content with simply existing.
A thought interrupted her calm and planted itself in her head. West. Go West, Kaila. West to freedom. The thought blossomed into a lovely weed that would not be ripped out.