Miraculous Escape

It all started with running and climbing and scrambling. The sheer trauma of what she had witnessed was enough to send anyone into shock but with the coldness now biting at her extremities the process began to escalate. The fear and adrenaline of escaping from the Red Skull had provided her with the energy and drive she needed to save herself and her son. She had observed the cataract of water cascading over the cliff edge as they had been herded onto the ice with the tens of thousands of refugees displaced by the war with the Red Skull. Bethulia had been in a period of extensive peace until the day the Immortal Remes marched upon their peaceful land. She sat and watched the powerful flow of water beside her as she hid in the crevice of the cliff hoping they would not see her, hoping they would move on before the cold gripped her beyond what she could cope. The fall dropped into rapids, she considered the possibility of jumping into this and surviving if all other options were removed. It had several layers or steps, it was not a plunge pool. Survival would be unlikely. One pool was half frozen and only remained unfrozen due to the constant turmoil of the water flowing into it. She heard noises from below, it was the troopers searching for her. She couldn't be that important, surely they would give up their search soon. She looked over the edge it was a five hundred foot drop all the way down. Her foot slipped on the ice, her son reached out and held her, helping her to regain her balance. She would wait patiently until the troops left. The old wire rope she had used to climb down was still there, to climb back again.

She would wait twenty minutes, they would surely be gone by then. As she settled, she calmed as the rhythm of the fall helped to regulate her breathing and the protection of the nook reassured her she would not be found. The view across the frozen lake was breathtaking. The action, tumbling, spilling, cascading sound and roar of the waterfall became oblivious to her in its beauty. Ten years had past since the birth of her son; ten summers as well but in the north countries winters are long and summer but a light reprieve. She pulled her son close to her, she remembered the words of the Anointed that he would serve the Almighty. She pushed further back into the crevice availing herself of its deep seclusion and connecting with it and the quietness of the sky. The child whimpered, she consoled him.

"The day will come when we will again repose in comfort, my son. Here, under this dark cataract it seems pitiful and hopeless but it is in fact our salvation. Our plots of cottage ground and orchards will be ours again where you will run free. This is a season of unripened fruits but that just falls to the ground and encourages next seasons growth to have a greener hue. Close your eyes and see the wild landscape tamed by our hedge rows and farmers fields. See the wreathes of smoke from the farmhouse chimneys sent up in silence as prayers of thankfulness to the Almighty for the heat it brings. See yourself running and playing as you did once and will again. Know in your heart that the Almighty is the anchor of your purest thoughts. The guide, the guardian of you heart and soul."

She felt the sobbing ease as her own thoughts moved to the atrocity they had survived.

Ten thousand refugees, civilians, being moved to reeducation camps. They had walked for days with little rest and less food. They came across the frozen lake and was herded onto it. She thought it unusual that they did not simply walk around it. She held back and managed to hide in the bushes on the shore line as they moved these poor souls onto the sheet. They reached the middle, aircraft passed over head once then twice. The troopers held back to the shore line pushing the refugees to the centre of the lake. The third pass and the aircraft opened fired, firing bolts and missiles. The screams were hellish and piercing, the ice cracked as the bolts and missiles contacted. People were mutilated as the shards of metal and ice ripped at their flesh, screams of terror, screams of mercy, screams which would haunt her for all her life. The trauma made it impossible to stay in her hedgerow hiding place and she ran. A squad of troopers saw her and pursued her in her flight to the waterfall but her hiding place had helped her elude them.

She felt sleepy, she knew that was bad. First sign of hypothermia, she shock herself and rubbed her hands together with her sons. The sleepiness faded from their eyes as she became alert again. The sun was setting on the horizon, so did the fear in her heart that they may be discovered.

As the sunlight dissolved like the spilled blood of those massacred on the ice as it melted under the explosions. Her fear regressed in the same way the whiteness off the ice had began to reform over the lake hiding the sins of the Red Skull that day. Hope rose within her as quickly as the sun set. She climbed the old wire rope with her son clinging to her. She reached the top, then the enormity of the days events revealed itself and the hope she gained minutes previously began to dissolve as the final rays of sun disappeared. The coldness of the air bit her face. She walked into the woods about two hundred yards away and stood still as the feeling of hopelessness became apparent and set like cement in her soul. Three of troopers who had been searching stood before her.

The Sergeant smirked.

"You have been trouble today! We should be tucked in our kip getting supper but you had to run, let's get our reward from her before we kill them. Got to make all this effort worthwhile."

She pushed her son behind her, their intentions were obvious in their eyes and their desire rampant stopping short of salivating at the morsel they wished to violate before them. She looked at them knowingly almost sultry. She reached behind her head pulling out the long hair pin that held her hair in place. She shook her hair from side to side, as the soldiers watched it flow over her shoulders. They looked at each other.

"This will be pleasant," remarked the sergeant, "not for you but for us."

The Sergeant stepped forward expecting no resistance but instead felt the sharp pain as the hair pin was thrust, piercing his carotid and he fell gurgling in his own blood. It was momentary but also eternal, with the realisation of the other two as to what had happened. That moment was sufficient as she somersaulted over the dead soldier, the left hand soldier drew his pistol but her swiftness and his brashness meant each bolt missed its mark except the last which grazed her arm. It passed through her flesh and into the head of the third soldier as she moved between them. As he fell she pulled his sword from his sheath and in one swift move cut the thirds head clean off. She followed though bringing herself complete in a three sixty motion finishing knelt and sword pointing to the ground as the head of the soldier rolled to her side.

"Forgive me, Almighty. May you be just in your judgement."

She walked over to her son.

"You have seen something I wished to never show you. Remember this. A faith is something you die for, a doctrine is something you kill for. There is all the difference in the world."

Her son stood motionless.

"Where did you learn to do that, mum?"

She pulled him close.

"I was not born in the north like you. I am a descendant of the Accendo of the Luminous Mountains. Even the women learn how to fight because those without a sword can still die by the sword."

The boy pulled away, enough to look into her eyes.

"Will you teach me?"

Her eyes welled with tears.

"I had hoped you would never need to see this evil, never mind know it but the day was destined as the Anointed one said when he told me of your birth, how you would serve the Almighty. I ran from trouble into the safe north lands but trouble has found us, as has your destiny."

She sighed, "Yes, Pierre, as sure as I am Julianna Evangeline of the Accendo, I will train you."

They walked through the night until dawn. They again hid as they came across a railway siding, with goods trains. This was a good sign, these marshalling stations were the heart of any region pulsing necessary resources to those in need.

"A good place to hide, to sleep, to regain warmth perhaps to eat." she mumbled.

She chose one, not the departmental train, it had sleepers, rails and coal. No the larger goods train, these can take weeks to move and could remain empty for that same time, if she found an empty carriage they could stay there for as long as they needed without being discovered. She found one as she anticipated. She noticed a smaller train, these were called Road Vans. They were Small Quick Transit or SQT trains, specially designed for the clearance of goods not large enough to make up a full wagon load. They would have consignments of tea leaves, tins of sweet oil, sacks of food grain. Almost any kind of food. A raid was needed, they needed to eat. She grabbed Pierre's hand.

"Let's get some food."

She tried door after door until she found one open. It had a broken lock. Inside were tins of salted pork and beans and orange juice. She smiled, pushing Pierre on board and then pulling herself up. She looked out once more only to see the loading foreman doing his morning checks. He was at the first carriage they had tried, scratching his head, obviously puzzled why the door was open. She closed her door, found a dark corner for them both to hide and prayed he would not come this way. By his attire, he was Red Skull, she had had enough and wanted no more conflict or death that day. There was nothing for such a long silence, the silence grated her nerves until she heard the crunch of slow footsteps. He was at the next carriage, she heard the clank of him trying the lock to ensure it was secure. The steps came closer, the clunk at her door followed by blasphemies as he saw the broken lock. The door began to open but barely a gap when a different clunk was heard. A duller clunk and the noise of a bodies dead weight falling onto the gravel. The door closed, there was bolt fire, shouts and the noise of turmoil. Suddenly, the train was in motion. They were trapped on a train heading who knew where. She dared not look outside as the bolt fire continued. It died down in the distance, she waited five minutes and tried the door, it was jammed. Whoever had shut it had also somehow jammed it. They truly were trapped.

"Our destiny is in His hands, Pierre. We may as well eat and rest."

After a breakfast of salted pork, beans and orange juice, they settled in their corner.

Waves of tiredness engulfed them as the rhythmic tracks underneath sang them a lullaby.

***

She woke with a start, the clunk of the door seemed louder than normal. She couldn't move as the door swung open but it wasn't Red Skull, it was a Bethulian Captain.

"What have we got here?"

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"I am a refugee, I was seeking food and shelter and got trapped inside. Can you give me Asylum?"

He climbed on board.

"You can have transport till next town."

Realisation and confusion marked her face.

She asked, "Why are you here? This is a Red Skull train?"

"We relieved them of it, they have plenty."

He turned and jumped off.

"Let's go if you want a lift."

She followed him with Pierre, she looked to the left.

A company of Bethulian soldiers were unloading the train onto trucks.

"I have been summoned back to camp, you can ride with me and my squad. My name is Captain Rosky, Stavros Rosky."

She smiled, helped Pierre into the truck and climbed in herself.

The ten soldiers did not take any notice, they continued their conversation.

"Tch," the corporal closed his eyes before folding his arms.

"I'll stop being antisocial when people stop being annoying."

His eyes flickered to the side as he thought about his words.

"I have no intention of getting close to people just to have them taken away or betray me again." He turned to Pierre.

"When you've lived the life I've lived, you'll find that there is comfort in being alone. No one to hurt you, no one to leave you, no one to stab you in the back and nothing to lose".

He turned away, back into the conversation. His friend replied.

"You're wrong! I don't think your heartache story of brokenness is any different from a lot of Bethulians. I think our story is still being written and it screams of redemption. Freedom is not true freedom unless we pay the highest cost. The cost of blood."

The soldier opposite was cleaning his gun. The first soldier spoke to Pierre again.

"Watch out for that guy, he names all his guns."

He called over to him.

"Hey, Kyle, what's that one called."

"This is Adreanna."

He laughed, "What do you call the knife in your boot?"

Without flinching he replied, "I don't have a name for the knife in my boot, I'm not a psycho."

Juliana asked Captain Rosky, "Who are you? How is the war going?"

He smiled measuredly, "We are The 2nd Battalion, 25th Guards Brigade, belonging to the 2nd Corps of the 11th Army. We crossed the Angepp bridge a few days ago to secure and establish a bridgehead on the western bank of the river. Red Skull forces have tried to retake the bridge several times but we have repelled them every time and as you saw, made several reconnaissance raids depriving them of resources. We saw Red Skull air support but it passed us to go towards the lake."

Juliana hung her head.

"They were heading our way, we were herded like sheep onto the lake where they strafed us. They killed thousands."

Tears began to well up as she felt her inner strength buckle with the retelling of the atrocity.

Stavros gently touched her knee in reassurance.

"You are not the only survivors, we found a number in an improvised bunker. Fourteen men and women. One seriously injured woman, Gerda was her name, told us the whole story. Swine!!!"

The whole truck, repeated the sentiment with similar adjectives and motions.

Kyle stopped cleaning his rifle.

"There was nothing we could do, we were ordered to retreat back across the river and take defensive positions until the air support left. It wasn't until we came back across that we discovered the massacre."

Stavros continued, "We found nothing but malicious damage. They set fire to buildings in the local villages using deadly force against civilians. The only way we could respond was looting their transport trains. Redistributing the wealth, filthy scum, the lot of them."

Juliana smiled at his kindness and passion.

Stavros finished with, "We will avenge those poor souls, we will punish all Red Skull."

Pierre took these words to heart and vowed to the Almighty he would serve the Almighty, as the Anointed had foretold. Serve Him to rid this world of Red Skull evil.