A Life Less Ordinary

The drive back to civilization was a long one. Bane paid no attention as the doctor rambled on about his research and life after Peña Dura. His thoughts rested on returning home and nothing more.

“Why, If you don’t mind my asking, do you want to do this?” Woodrue asked. Bane stared out the window.

“I’ve found it is no longer to my liking.” He replied quietly.

“Oh do tell…” Woodrue said.

“Another time, doctor.” Bane said sternly. “Our flight has arrived.”

The SUVs pulled into an open field just as a large plane landed, sending a cloud of dust into the air on touchdown.



The days grew increasingly warmer as March came around. Isla never left her room once Barsad and Cooper left. She rarely ate when the food was brought up. Only until she was satisfied that no one was lingering by the door, did she open it and grab the food, and by then it was usually cold. She hardly slept for fear that when she did, someone would find their way into her room. She knew that the wooden doors were no match against a mob and for that reason, the gun was always on her person. She waited anxiously day after day for Bane to return or for Victor to break down the door.
She walked out onto the balcony and leaned against the stone railing, letting the warmth of the sun wash over her. Very little snow was left on the exposed ground. The trees were starting to bud with new growth.

She could see the men below, sparring with one another, laughing and carrying on. Some stood at one end of the courtyard practicing with weapons. All were completely aware of her presence.

With her sunglasses on, she looked up at the bright blue sky. Barsad and Cooper had been gone for nearly a week, but she wasn’t surprised when she heard no news. It had been over a month since she had last seen Bane. She hadn’t received any news from him in twenty nine days, day thirty wasn’t going to be any different.

Without giving it a second thought, she grabbed her coat and exited the worlds coziest prison cell. Her stomach growled loudly as she stepped onto the elevator.



A few men were sparsely scattered in the lobby as she stepped off the elevator and made her way to the kitchens. Only one man was there, but she gave no mind to him as she opened the refrigerator and retrieved some ham and bread. She picked up and apple and bit into it, holding it with her teeth.

Closing the door with her foot, she grabbed a bottle of water and turned to exit. The man stood staring at her, barring her from leaving. Arms full and apple in mouth, she stared at him, eyes narrowed. She forced her vision to blur so that he couldn’t intimidate her into looking away. After a minute of silent showdown, the man stepped aside and Isla pushed past him without another word, making her way the hotel entrance.



The flight to Rio de Janerio went by quickly and without event. The sun was setting as the cargo plane landed in another large field, casting a fiery red glow on the surrounding trees. Bane gripped the rail above his head and braced himself as the wheels made violent contact with the ground.

“La próxima vez que facilitar el aterrizaje, estúpido hijo de puta!*!” Woodrue screamed at the pilot, who responded with a middle finger.

Bane smirked. “Too much for you to handle, Doctor?”

“I prefer my feet stayed on the ground. If we were meant to fly, God would have given us wings.” Woodrue grumbled, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose. “What are we doing?”

“Picking up a friend.” Bane replied, pressing the cargo door release button. With a loud clamoring, the cargo door slowly opened and Bane stepped out.

Barsad stood next to two trucks loaded with large boxes, cigarette in mouth. Upon seeing Bane, he smiled, tossed down the cigarette, and grasped his forearm in welcome.

“Brother…Good to see you made it safely.” he replied.

“And you as well.” Bane said. He looked at the four other men and immediately noticed Victor was not among them. “Where is Victor?” Bane asked sharply.

Barsad’s face immediately fell. “We received your orders last night. He sent us here.”

“He was to accompany you here.” Bane said.

“He didn’t say-” Bane began to pace anxiously.

“OF COURSE HE DIDN”T SAY!” Bane yelled angrily, pointing at the trucks. “Load all of this. We are leaving!”



Isla had ignored the calls that were cast her way as she punched in the code to open the gates. She had zipped her coat and made her way west with no idea where she was going, but anywhere was better than the staying in the hotel. After nearly an hour of wandering through the woods, she heard the sound of rushing water and came to a clearing.

Snow still lay under the trees, but had melted in the more exposed areas. The trees had sprouted buds and the birds were chirped loudly. A large rocky river split the clearing in two and dropped towards the west in a beautiful waterfall, immediately luring Isla to it.

The drop off was a good 15 feet, a large waterfall by no means. Cold water snaked and splashed over the jagged, moss-covered rocks as she took a seat dangerously close to the edge. Setting the gun aside and pulling her legs up to her chest, she took in a deep breath of the fresh air in attempted to distract herself from the monotony of the past
thirty days.

“Don’t move.” A deep voice startled her out of her trance and she spun around. Before she could react, she was thrown onto her stomach. Her attacker pinned her to the ground with his knee. With a piercing scream, she thrashed her arms and kicked her legs, trying to push him away. He grabbed and fistful of her hair and pulled her head back roughly.

“I thought you were untouchable?” he growled against her ear. He shoved his face in her hair and inhaled deeply. Isla screamed and clawed at the dirt, trying to pull herself free.

Reaching to her sides, her hands searched frantically for her gun. When she couldn’t find it, she grabbed fistfuls of dirt and smashed them into his face. He cursed loudly and slammed her head repeatedly into the ground.

Momentarily dazed, her resistance faltered and the man rolled her onto her back, ripping her shirt open. He came down and began to kiss her neck and chest. She turned her head, feeling warm blood running down from her nose. Inches from her, she spied her gun poking out from fallen leaves. She stretched her hand out as far as she could but couldn’t reach.

Mustering what was left of her strength she punched him in the mouth. Blood trickled from the split in his bottom lip. Gripping her throat, he looked down at her and wiped at the blood with his free hand. He was the man she had encountered in the kitchen.

Without a word, he tightened his grip around her throat and began to undo her pants with his other.

“He will kill you…” she whispered.

“Bane’s not coming back for you, Bitch. He gave you to us, tossed us his scraps.” He discarded his belt and began to work his zipper.

Isla refused to look away. She would remember his face so she could watch as Bane tore him apart when he returned.

Before Isla could react, someone pulled his head back and drug a large blade across his throat. Blood sprayed onto her and his body twitched and began to go limp, she scattered out from under him, grabbing the gun and aiming at him. He collapsed at her feet, gurgling as he tried hopelessly to breath.

“The worst thing he could have done to you was label you ‘untouchable’. Men always want what they can’t have.” Victor stood over him, bloody knife in hand.

Giving his fading body a vicious kick, he turned to Isla.

“Isla are you alright?” he asked. Isla pointed the gun at him. He raised his hands in submission.

“Stay away from me!” she cried.

“I just saved your life, woman. We need to turn back now, before the sun goes down and we are lost.” he replied.

“Get rid of your knife.” she said. Victor stared at her for a moment before tossing his knife over the cliff. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his coat around her shoulders. Isla clutched her shirt with her free hand and with the gun in her other, pushing past him.

Waiting until she was out of sight, Victor knelt next to the man’s body, placing his hand on his unmoving back.

“Well done, brother.” he whispered in German. He stood and kicked the body over the edge of the waterfall, watching as it bounced off the jagged rocks and splashed into the river below.



By the time they arrived at the hotel, the sun had long since set and a storm was rolling in. Despite her strongest efforts, Isla shivered violently.

“Here, put this over your face, it will help with the swelling.” Victor handed her an ice pack. They stood in the kitchen, on opposite sides of the prep table. She said nothing as she grabbed the frozen pack, gun still in hand.

“Are you alright?” Victor asked.

Isla glared at him. “I’m fine.” She winced as she placed the ice to her swollen, blood spattered cheek.

“I will place two men at your door tonight for security.” He replied.

“That isn’t necessary.”

“I would beg to differ, fraulein.” He said, gesturing to her face.

“I don’t want anyone near me.” She said.

“You are exhausted.” He observed.

“I’m fine.”

He picked up a plate of food. “I will escort you to your room. And by the look you just gave me, I can tell that I bring out the worst in you. I am delivering you safely to your room and nothing more. If you feel threatened, you can use your gun. He said, walking out. Isla sighed and followed begrudgingly, clutching the gun against her chest.



He looked down on her as she slept, his hand hovering inches from her skin as he attempted to caress her. The room was pitch black save for the brief streaks of lightning that acted as a strobe light. Her black hair was scattered across her face, one hand was under her pillow. Her chest rose softly with each breath. He exhaled shakily as his eyes went over the rest of her body. She slept in a pair of black shorts and sheer white top. He closed his eyes as he inhaled her scent.



The storm neared its peak when a crash of thunder woke her with a start. She lay still, staring up at the skylight as the lightning flashed, trying to control the adrenaline that was now pumping through her veins from the violent waking call. Something wasn’t right. Unable to shake the feeling of being watched, she gripped the handle of the gun and sat up, pointing it at the door.

A shuffling sound came from next to the bed and she whirled around, straining to see who she was aiming at. The tall silhouette illuminated by the lightning approached her slowly.

“Victor, stay back!” she cried. He was quicker than she was, and before she could register what was happening, a large, gloved hand gripped the gun by the barrel and tore it from her hands.

She flinched, expecting the worst, but was taken aback as the figure knelt before her. Lightning flashed again, illuminating a pair of gray eyes, smiling from behind a mask.