Wind Walkers: Prisoner

Wind Walkers: Prisoner

A Chapter by J.A. Marquez
"

Bethany and Gomez find themselves at the mercy of a hostile tribe, whose leaders believe exiles to be demon posessed.

"
"Hello?" Bethany sniffled as she opened her eyes.

Everything was dark and her head was throbbing. She heard movement.

"Where am I?" She whimpered.

A pained groan echoed into the silence. Bethany screamed and tried to move away, but her hands were bound and her feet were chained.

"Please -" she called into the darkness. "don't hurt me."

"Bethany?" The voice said, groggy and disoriented.

"Gomez!" She felt her heart pound hard. "Gomez, where are we?"

The silence between them felt infinite.

"I think," He paused, "we're in an underground chamber."

"U-under ground?" Chills shuddered through her.

"I don't see any light, and it's so cold. But I hear something when I lean my head on the wall."

Bethany rotated her own neck, seeking solid support. She found none.

"Do you think we're alone?" She asked him.

He didn't answer.

"Gomez?"

"Hmmmm, what?"

"Gomez, are you okay?" She struggled against her bindings.

"Yeah, give me a minute." He said in a distracted tone.

Bethany was abashed. She could not understand how he could be so casual about their situation.

"Are you okay?" She repeated.

"Yeah, fine. Just...hang....on!"

Something thudded against the floor. Bethany froze, too afraid to move. She felt something touch her wrist and she yelped.

"Shhhh, it's me. It's me." He whispered.

"How did you get free?" She asked.

"They didn't check my pockets." He smirked.

"I don't see anything amusing."

"I know." He said as something cold caressed her arm.

She could feel the friction against her wrists as the ropes resisted the sharp blade. After a while they began to loosen. She wriggled frantically in an attempt to free herself.

"Stop, you'll only make it worse."

The ropes snapped and Bethany relaxed her arms rubbing the burns on her wrists. She heard the chains rattle and felt the shackles move.

"S**t." Gomez breathed.

"What? What is it?"

"I can't get through the chains....I was only tied with rope."

Bethany's teeth chattered as she struggled to stay calm.

"I'll get you out, but," He paused, and Bethany heard him gulp. "I'll have to find the key."

"How are you supposed to do that? It's pitch black."

She heard his feet moving across the cold floor.

"Well, we didn't get in here by magic did we?"

"What?"

"There has to be a door or a hatch here somewhere. Feel with your hands."

The floor felt like ice against her fingertips. It was not smooth, though. Her fingers danced over bumps and cracks, sometimes sinking into the surface dirt.

"I don't feel anything." She said meekly.

Gomez did not answer. She realized she no longer heard his footsteps.

"Where did you go?" She whispered.

Suddenly there was a loud banging noise. Only it was coming from much further away than where Gomez had been a moment ago. The banging stopped and the footsteps gradually returned.

"It's some sort of dungeon or oubliette."

"A what?"

"It's a hole in the ground with a trapdoor that only opens from the outside."

Her heart sank as she realized what he was saying. Wherever they were they were trapped.

"Can't we d-dig or something?"

"This is clay, not soft soil. We can scrape at it, but we won't get anywhere before they come back for us."

"Come back?"

"They didn't keep us alive just to let us rot in here. They'll be back and when they are we will be ready." He said decisively.

Surges of anxiety pulsed through her. Bethany had no experience with fighting, or escaping. It was highly improbable if not impossible for her to get out of this alive.

"What if I tell them who I am? Perhaps they'll let us go."

She cringed, expecting a sordid chuckle in return.

"If we don't get out of here together, or anything happens to me, then tell them. They might keep you alive longer - as bait."

"What do you think they're going to do to us?"

There was a long pause as he thought. Bethany heard small creeping sounds in the silence. Tiny insect legs tickled her feet and climbed her ankle. She swatted away whatever creature had taken interest in her.

"There are a few tribes in these parts. The only hostile one I know of is the Red River tribe."

"Red River?" Bethany feared she already knew what this meant.

"They are one of a few tribes that practice human sacrifice. They believe that people like you and me are demon posessed. To them there's no other reason that we would face life alone."

Saliva pooled on Bethany's tongue and dribbled down her throat. She began to tremble, her body weakened by fear. Gomez's fingers laced with hers and squeezed.

"They think that by killing us they are cleansing the earth."

"But the blood hunters are the monsters, not us!"

"They can't kill blood hunters. Nobody can. That would require advanced weapons. Nobody has them anymore."

"How do you kill them?"

"Well, either you remove their head, which is all but impossible, or you speed up the metabolism of the virus. The only problem is that whatever samples of the virus that there once were are gone now."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." Bethany admitted, feeling simple.

"I forgot, you come from a midwestern tribe."

"What does that mean?" She raised her eyebrows, though he couldn't see.

"The white coast is very different from the middle lands. There are cities and many relics have been preserved. Most of the tribes are well versed in great nation history."

"My father has a history scroll. The tribe elders taught us about the blood hunters." Bethany felt defensive for her former people.

"He had a piece of history. I'm talking about huge buildings filled with it. Towers that go into the clouds and down below the ground. There's more to be learned."

Bethany tried to picture the things he was describing. She had seen the ruins of cities here and there as they travelled. She had never been in one of the magnificent structures. She didn't know of the secrets that lay inside.

"So because they cannot kill the blood hunters they sacrifice outcasts instead." She finally concluded.

"I wish I could tell you that you're wrong." He said earnestly.

"I'm going to die." She gasped.

Gomez's hand traveled from her hand to her cheek. His toughened thumb brushed at the warm skin.

"I won't let that happen." He assured her.

Loud clanging broke the silence and light flooded the chamber. Bethany sheilded her eyes. She heard something squeak and clack and then a deep boom.

"You, how did you escape?" A man's voice echoed into the muddy room.

"Bad ropes." Gomez retorted.

There was a brief pause.

"No problem, you're done here anyway."

Heavy feet plodded across the clay and Gomez straightened, placing himself between the man and Bethany. She reached out and touched his leg.

"I'll be fine." He murmured before the beastly creature gripped his arm.

He led Gomez to the trapdoor and urged him up the rope ladder. Then with an ear ringing slam the light disappeared.

Bethany was alone, the image of the man burned in her brain. The darkness felt thicker, the silence more isolating. What will they do to Gomez? She thought. Greusome ideas came to life against the deep black. Her eyes projected images of blood and fire. Mortified, she let out a shrill moan.

Wretching wildly she pulled at the chains. She had to get out of there. The thick cuffs dug into her ankle, breaking the skin. She couldn't free herself. Something terrible was happening and she was powerless.


© 2015 J.A. Marquez


Author's Note

J.A. Marquez
I guess this is like part two of the book. Written on phone, so there may be typos. If you see a typo I haven't noticed feel free to let me know.

My Review

Would you like to review this Chapter?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

133 Views
Added on April 14, 2015
Last Updated on April 15, 2015
Tags: dystopia, fiction, adventure, coming of age


Author

J.A. Marquez
J.A. Marquez

South Lake Tahoe, CA



About
If you want to know who I am, read my stories. Many are works in progress, and many are just a few sentences, but each one is a piece of my soul. more..

Writing
Unbroken Unbroken

A Story by J.A. Marquez