The Beat of the Drum

Summer finds herself behind enemy lines.

    Slowly, I woke up to the emptiness of a cold and eerily dark room, the waves coming off of the walls hollow and bleak.  There was a sore spot right at the base of my neck, where he'd put pressure to put me under, and I rubbed at it as I cautiously sat up.  I was on the floor so, naturally, all my joints were also sore from a very uncomfortable night's rest.  Or at least, I assumed it was a night's rest.  Who was to know how long I'd been out?

 

I felt the footsteps before I heard them and watched the vibrations come closer to the door of the room I'd been put in.  There was a pause as the figure stood outside the room and then there was a creak as they opened it.  I already was planning my escape based on where he came from and the gaps between him and the door.  

 

"I'm guessing you knew I was coming, so I'm well aware of whatever your planning, I assure you," the familiar voice of my capturer said, his words echoing throughout the room.  Stupid Guard person.

 

"Well, that just put a damper on my very eventful day," I grumbled as a light switch was flicked on.  The room was as empty as I thought it was.  Only a table with two chairs occupied the dusty, musky room.  The walls barely held years-old wallpaper that had water stains and cracks all over and there were no windows whatsoever.  The only light in the room came from one lightbulb that dangled over the table on an exposed wire.

 

"If you'd please, I'd like you to take a seat," the Guard said as he shut the door behind him, slipping a key into his pocket. There was no way to escape except to pickpocket him.  I decided to get on his good side and sat at the table, the chair creaking in the process.  

 

"You could use some new decor.  It's a bit depressing in here,"  I said, trying to start up a casual conversation.

 

"Sorry, we can't accommedate you like the 'princess' you are,"  the Guard replied sarcastically.  I grit my teeth. 

 

"My name is Summer,"  I snapped back, all attempts to act sweet out the window.  I leaned back in my creaky chair, arms crossed and ready to annoy my way out of there.

 

"Oh, we're well aware of your name and who you are, Summer.  And I failed to introduce myself, how rude.  My name is Fidel,"  the Guard stated with fake politeness.  I held back a snicker.

 

"As in, Fidel Castro?"  I shot back, spotting the irritation in the arch of his brow.

 

"Not exactly.  I would not be associated with a communist.  Unlike yourself, Summer,"  Fidel stated coldly.  Now what was that supposed to mean?

 

"My father is not a communist.  He is an activist of the people,"  I growled in the defense of my father. 

 

"He is corrupt, as is the government,"  Fidel argued as he banged his fist on the table.  I jumped slightly, he was pretty large.  Fidel was muscular, tall, and fairly handsome if not for the fact that he was my enemy.  The tattoo of a bird's tallon that seemed to claw at his face from where it lay on the side of his right eye revealed him for what he trully was: a rebel.  He was one of the well-known group called the Guards, who claimed to be the guards of democracy and freedom and who rebelled both publically and secretly against the forming government.  His eyes looked black, like death, in the shadow of the light, drawing a cold picture of his soul.  This did not look like the image of freedom.  This did not look like a good guy.

 

"The government is shaping itself to fit the public's needs.  It is not corrupt.  It is not a communist government,"  I growled.  Fidel glared down at me but after a moment of tense silence, he sighed and eased his glare.

 

"This is not what I brought you here for," he mumbled with a shake of the head.  I rolled my eyes.

 

"Then get to the point, so I can go home,"  I mumbled back.  he chuckled without humor.

 

"Oh, Summer, you're not going home any time soon."  Fidel stated cooly.

 

"And why is that?"  I squeeked.  So much for bravery.  Fidel eyed me closely and I felt naked under his intense stare.  I felt like an experiment.

 

"Why?  Well, we find ourselves in need of someone with your specialty."  Fidel stated slowly. 

 

"I don't know what you're talking about,"  I replied coldly.  There was no way he could know.  No one knew about my secret. 

 

"Oh, I'm quite sure you do, Pulse,"  Fidel said. 

 

"Summer,"  I corrected, acting oblivious.  He smirked.

 

"Oh, that was your name.  But from now on, you're name is Pulse,"  Fidel said.  I pursed my lips.  There had always been rumors about the Guards and how they all were freaks with powers and so forth, but I always hoped they were false.  There were always rumors that they seeked out others with certain traits but I also hoped those were false.  I guess I was wrong.

 

"I guess there's no way around this?"  I sighed, giving up my 'struggle'.  There were waves, pulses, coming from outside the room.  I was surrounded, anyway.

 

"Not at all,"  Fidel replied with a satisfied grin. 

 

"When do I start?"

 

"Start?  Well, you start right now.  You need training, though,"  Fidel said as he stood up from the table.

 

"Training?  What for?"  I asked dubiously.  Fidel snickered.

 

"Well, Princess, you need to learn combat.  You need to learn how to break and enter.  You need to learn a lot, basically."  He replied, opening the creaky door and motioning for me to follow him.  I slowly got up, feeling more uneasy by the second.

 

"You mean I have to fight people?  Who?"  I asked as I followed him out of the room, several other Guards who blended in with the ill-lit hallway with their black outfits, hovered close behind.  As if I'd try and escape with muscle-man right next to me.

 

"Politicians, of course.  Or should I say, their bodyguards,"  He said with a smirk.  It finally clicked in my head.

 

"Wait, so those missing senators..."  I trailed off, shocked.  Fidel chuckled.

 

"That was us,"  Fidel finished for me as we turned into another hall and stopped at the first door there.  He pushed the door open to reveal yet another empty, unkept room.  This time, though, there wasn't a bit of furniture and the light source came from high-voltage light beams on the ceiling.  What a hostile room.

 

"What exactly did you do with them?"  I asked uneasily.  Fidel grinned.

 

"What do you think we did with them?"  He retorted, humored.  I didn't even want to think of what they might have done.

 

"Well, what exactly are we going to do in here?"  I asked instead as he closed the door behind me.  He yanked off his black leather coat and flung it onto the floor.  Fidel stretched his arms a bit, grinning at my blank face.

 

"Combat practice,"  He said before flicking off the lights.  Like a sonar radar, the pulse from the room gave away his location, as did his own beating heart.

 

"Don't you need lights for that?"  I asked, though I kind of figured he was testing me.

 

"Not for you, am I correct?"  He said snidely.  I grimaced.

 

"But I'm a beginner,"  I shot back.  He shrugged in the darkness.

 

"Let's see what you already know,"  He said before swinging his fist at me.  I ducked, only barely escaping the punch.  I knew nothing about fighting!  This guy was a mad man.

 

"Dude, don't you think taking out your anger on a girl is a bit screwed up?"  I asked as I dodged a few more of his punches.  I gasped as I slipped, falling backwards.  I fell to the ground and scrambled to get back up before he could use it to his advantage.

 

"Here, there is no difference between a man and woman except for their anatomy.  When you're out in a fight, your opponent won't care whether your male or female,"  Fidel shot back as he came after me.  I jumped to the side before he could sock me in the gut.  "In truth, you're not that bad at dodging.  But how about you try taking the offense?" 

 

I curled my hand into a fist, not really sure of the feeling of it.  I'd never really hit anyone, but there was always a first for everything and if I were to hit anyone, I'd like it to be this guy.  I focused on the image of him, the waves coming off of him faster as his adrenaline kept pumping.  I narrowed in on his face, hoping that my aim was good as I swung at him.  Like lighting, his hand came up to meet my fist, grabbing it and bending my arm.  I screamed in agony as he swung it behind my back and held it there, in all its bent glory.  Almost as quickly as he had grabbed me, he let me go and I stumbled to gain my balance, rubbing my arm as the lights came back on with blinding strength.

 

"Guess we'll have to work on that," Fidel said as he looked me over.

 

"No s**t, Sherlock,"  I gasped.  He chuckled and leaned against the wall.

 

"So how does it work?" He asked, curious. 

 

"How does what work?"

 

"You can stop acting oblivious any time now."  Fidel said with an aggitated sigh.

 

"It's acts sort of like a sonar radar.  Images form from the waves that bounce off objects; kinda making it look like everything has a pulse,"  I said as I recovered from the pain in my arm.  He nodded slowly.  "How'd you know about my... special trait?"  I asked hesitantly.  He grinned.

 

"It's part of my 'special trait',"  He replied.  I bit my lip.

 

"So does everyone here have a 'specialty' like is rumored?"  He nodded as he checked his watch.  What time was it anyway?

 

"Most of us do.  You, however, are what we've been hoping for.  Someone from behind enemy lines with a specialty that is very rare,"  Fidel stated.  I rolled my eyes.

 

"Gee, great.  Onto more dire matters.  What time is it?"  I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from my situation.

 

"Almost nine in the morning.  Care to talk over breakfast?"  He asked politely.  I don't know whether I hated the gentleman side of him or the forceful one more.  I shrugged because something told me I didn't really have a choice.

 

***

 

"So, what exactly am I supposed to do?"  I asked as I munched down on a plate of eggs.  This room was a bit more lively so to say.  The walls were a normal shade of mellow yellow and there were no cracks or mold patches on it.  The table was decent and the chairs weren't creaky but overall, the building so far was pretty morbid.  I had been informed that the place was actually a factory before the Guards had decided to adopt it as their home for all their underground operations.

 

"Well, your jobs are unique,"  Fidel started.  I glanced up from my food to look him in the eye.

 

"You mean I have two?"  I clarified.  He grinned.

 

"You're to help us collect more possible Guards and also help in the regards of capturing some of the more corrupt politicians."  Fidel replied as he ate calmly.  I swallowed, a hollow feeling in my stomach.

 

"And if I refuse?"  I asked lamely. 

 

"There is no such thing as a refusal in your case."  Fidel said, probably amused by the thought of someone saying no to his face.  I nodded slowly.

 

"And in return for my... services?"  I pushed on.  If I was going to be forced to work for this man, I better get something in return.

 

"I garantee you safety, shelter, and food.  I garantee all who are under me these three things.  And trust me, I never go back on my word."  Fidel stated, finishing off his platter.

 

"Those seem like pretty good garantees.  But how about a garantee for me to go home?"  I asked, still hopeful.  He laughed coldly.

 

"And give away my location to your father?  Why, princess, I can't do that,"  He said.

 

"What if I promised not to disclose where you are?  I swear it,"  I pleaded.

 

"Unlike me, I cannot be sure that your word is any good."  He argued, his hand turning yet again into a fist.  The atmosphere was getting tense and I could sense it in the signals coming off of him, but I just kept going.

 

"And what makes your word so different from mine?"  I screeched, outraged.  He grit his teeth, the shadow on his face painting him to be dangerous.  I inched back in my seat. 

 

"It is one of my specialties.  My word is law.  I can never go back on my promises, unlike you and many others.  I am bound to my word,"  He growled.  That's when I realized why his name was Fidel, for fidelity.

 

"I'm sorry.  But I mean what I say when I promise I won't tell him.  I promise to work for you for however long you see fit as long as I get the garantee of going back home after this."  I clung on with my nails, hoping that maybe he might agree.

 

"Fine,"  He surrendered with a sigh.  Fidel rubbed at his temples.  "You become a member of this group and stay for the minimum of 4 months and then, if I see you've become trustworthy, I'll let you go."

 

I cringled internally.  "Any way I could shorten it to 2 months?"  I pushed onward.  He eyed me, warning through them that I was getting too eager with my terms.

 

"On account of good behavior, I might,"  Fidel said, probably just wanting to shut me up.  It was good enough for me.

 

Author's Note

I was wondering what to put as the chapter name but I settled with this. If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to make them.