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"BEYOND HELL"
A "Harsh Realm" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
No one could accuse Harsh Realm of being picturesque or its' disparate inhabitants of overdosing on the happiness gene. Some things just were not meant to be. Pinocchio woke in painful discomfort, the side of his face wet and sticky where the congealing blood ran down from a nasty crack to the side of his right ear. His face was badly swollen on that side and turning an interesting shade of black and blue completely closing the eye, but he still had one eye that functioned. He just wished his memory was in as good a shape. He could not remember what had happened or where he was and not knowing could get him killed. That thought turned his annoyance quickly to anger, a fire that was growing in him as he realised his own helplessness. He wanted to strike out and push passed the pain, do anything rather than succumb to the idea that he was at someone else's mercy but however he looked at it a dungeon was still a dungeon.
A noise somewhere off to his left made him instinctively turn that way eliciting a few choice impreccations as pain shot through him. Something was wrong. He could not feel his legs. He tried to rise but nothing happened. For a horrible moment he thought they must have been blasted but when he looked down he was still whole, just in one hell of a mess. He groaned inwardly, so what else was new? He had to turn his head to see anything and what he saw made him reassess everything he had ever imagined hell to be. Harsh Realm was as nothing compared to this place. Multiply it by a factor of ten and you might start to get an idea. Pinocchio wanted to
close his one good eye, shut out the scene, but some warped part of his brain seemed fascinated by the degree to which a man could withstand torture and still not die. The man was hanging in a metal framework upside down, his arms and legs stretched out so that his muscles bulged and the careful incisions could do the most damage, cause the most pain. The tongue was almost blue, eyes bulging, veins popping. Blood and bits of flesh made an obscene tattoo on the floor and the walls but the worst part was the man's eyes. They seemed to be fixed on Pinocchio with an intensity that belied the severity of the man's injuries. You did not have to be telepathic to read the plea, the prayer for death.
Pinocchio tried to swallow, to bite back the bile that was rising in his throat to join the stench of death. He knew without looking further that there were other bodies, some whole, some in parts. He could smell them. Who they were did not matter any more. What they had been would never now be known. The man on the frame tried to speak, it hurt Pinocchio to see the pain that the effort cost him. More out of compassion than any hope that he really could help, Pinocchio tried to raise himself but again he could not get his body to respond. He looked down again, unable to tell what his injuries were because of the blood and the dim lighting. Okay, so his legs would not work but he still had his arms. Pinocchio took a couple of deep breaths and leaned forward rolling awkwardly onto his shoulder and face. He grunted in pain then tried to fend off a wave of nausea that threatened to black him out. He gritted his teeth. He could not do with this shit, not now, not with last rites to perform. The only mercy was that from this position he could no longer see the begging eyes, the agony and torment of the man dying by inches yet retaining some measure of dignity that he could never hope to aspire to. It made him almost envy the man. Almost but not quite.
He was not sure how long he lay there. Was it minutes? Was it hours? The light level never changed so he had no way of judging the passage of time. The pain had settled to a constant throbbing which he used almost as a crutch to cling to his conscious state. It anchored him even while he cursed it. Now he had his breath back, he pushed one shoulder forward then wriggled painfully trying to avoid dragging his swollen face across the gravel. Twice he passed out and each time he came round it took longer for him to remember not only where he was but what he was trying to accomplish. At last he reached a metal strut and knew it was part of the apparatus on which the man hung. He rolled onto his right shoulder and looked up with his one good eye. "I don't know what good I can do..." he started to say. His words trailed off. Pinocchio lay back and looked up at the hanging man for several minutes. Waves of sadness and dispair started to creep into his consciousness. The man was dead. Instead of feeling relieved that he was at last free of his agony he felt only regret and an absurd sense of failure. Then came a flare of self-pity. His only possible companion in this hell of hells had escaped and left him alone. If misery likes company, agony demands it.
Pinocchio was so tired but he knew he had to find a way out of here or die trying. The exertion sent pain shooting through him with a vengeance and his body felt like it did not belong to him. It was a dead weight, holding him back from the freedom he desired. Again he tried to remember what had happened. His head throbbed, his good eye was blurring and he sensed rather than saw the images torn from his mind as he desperately tried to make sense of what was happening. Reluctantly he closed his eye and let the weariness of body and soul provide the antidote to his pain. He should be grateful to let go of it. The hanging man had shown him the way. The least he could do was follow.
* * *
Hobbes was restless, angry and frustrated. He paced and carefully touched the back of his head then winced. Florence watched him. "Why the hell did he have to hit me so hard?"
Florence did not react. She had checked the injury and satisfied herself it was little more than a large bruise. It may have knocked Hobbes out but it would take something much more dramatic to knock any real sense into him. She looked at him. Wisely, Dexter lay on the ground and feigned sleep. Hobbes gave a big sigh then sat on a log. The dog followed him with his eyes but did not move. Hobbes looked sideways at Florence. Florence had not been with them when they had had their bust up. "Why does he do that? Why did he have to go off alone like that?"
Florence looked away for a moment as if she had heard something beyond the range of normal hearing. When she looked at him again he noticed a flicker of concern on her face. Hobbes felt his heartbeat quicken. "What is it?"
Florence gave a little shake of the head, she did not know exactly. She just knew something was wrong. She gave Hobbes an intense look and waited. Frustrated Hobbes got up and gestured angrily at her. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not Pinocchio, I don't have a clue what you're trying to tell me!"
Florence frowned then turned away from him and picked up her gun. He knew his reaction had annoyed her, as if she expected better of him. He was not really angry with her, he was angry with himself. This time her meaning was plain. She intended to go and look for Pinnochio with or without him. Biting back what he was going to say he picked up his weapon and followed. She did not acknowledge his presence or give any sign that she was pleased at his change of heart. He could not tell if she had known he would come or cared but deep down he knew that of them all she probably cared the most. He had given up trying to figure out what Pinocchio cared about and yet as they trudged off in silence, he thought how Pinocchio's actions seldom matched his words. Even at his most trucculent, he was always on the look out for them, always poised ready to react to danger, to protect them. So why did he act as if he did not care? The realisation hit him suddenly and the moment the thought occurred to him he knew on every level of his being that he was right. Cursing himself for a fool he tightened his grip on his rifle and picked up his step. Florence did not turn her head but automatically matched his pace. He could not see her face so missed the smile.
* * *
Omar Santiago was not pleased, not pleased at all. His anger filled the council room like an impending storm and no one wanted to be the one to unleash its' fury. Santiago glared slowly round at them. Inga Fosse stood by the door and said nothing. She was watching, her pale face carefully schooled to show no emotion.
"No one steals from me. EVER."
Waters wiped the sweat from his face. He wished they could open a window or at the least prop the door open but it was more than his life was worth to distract the old man when his blood was up. Santiago turned away from them to consider the map. He looked back at them. "I want them found and the property returned. I don't care what you have to do just do it."
Waters nodded and Santiago curtly turned his back on them. They left quietly but quickly. Only Inga remained. Once the others had left she walked over to join Santiago. He did not turn his face from the map he was studying, even though he knew every inch of it off by heart. "They will be found."
Inga put a hand on his shoulder and he turned his head and looked at her. A full minute passed then he smiled and kissed her on the lips. It was like the connection of two cold fronts, neither having enough warmth of their own to pass on to the other. His smile widened. "What do you have for me?"
Inga raised an eyebrow and Santiago's hand dropped to cradle her waist. A muscle twitched ever so slightly in the side of her cheek but her look did not waver. He rubbed her waist and his eyes flicked back to the map. Reluctantly he dropped his hand. "Later. First we have work to do."
She stood back a pace and followed him out, her cold calculating mind working overtime. She had no time for anything as petty as conscience or right and wrong, there was only survival and she was a great survivor. To most people Harsh Realm was their worst nightmare, a vision of another earth plunged into the fires of hell, but to her it was something else. Not home but an opportunity. She was drawn to power, drawn to risk. Both excited her and drew her on, but there was something else too. A need to balance the books. Inga Fosse always kept her books straight and she always collected on her debts.
* * *
Pinocchio was not hungry but the meat was forced raw through his gritted teeth, bloody and foul. He tried to turn his head away but he was too weak and refusal was not an option. A gruff voice swore.
"This is a waste of time, Marley!"
Marley did not stop what he was doing but continued to ply thin strips of bloody meat into Pinocchio's mouth, occasionally pausing to wipe his hands on his battle fatigues. As dispassionately as if he was filling a magazine with ammo he carried on with the chore, ignoring the fact that his recipient was slowing choking. Pinocchio tried to spit the meat out but Marlely's
thumb was pushing it back down his throat. He gagged and struggled weakly. A rough hand suddenly slapped him hard across the face and Pinocchio saw stars, convulsed and accidentally swallowed some of the food. He could feel his other eye starting to close rapidly and was getting really pissed off.
"Why feed him when he's gonna die anyway?"
Marley stopped what he was doing and Pinocchio sagged back exhausted. "Look, I'm sick as hell of rancid meat, got it? The longer he lives the fresher he stays."
Pinocchio's head swam. He could not quite grasp the import of what he was hearing. He hovered on the brink of consciousness, head weaving slowly and sounds echoing in his ears as if he was underwater. He was bleeding again. He was vaguely aware of the blood running slowly down the right side of his face.
"I say we go top-side."
Marley reeled off a string of expletives that would have impressed the Mother of all Whores. Come to think of it, Pinocchio believed he probably was her first offspring. "It's too dangerous. We can only make short infrequent forays otherwise we risk drawing attention to ourselves and this place."
Marley's companion spat. "Yeah, well I don't want to die down here for you or anyone else."
"We ain't gonna die down here, Rees. I gotta plan. The tunnel's almost finished."
Rees sneered. "You've been saying that for a month now."
Marley's eyes narrowed. "I'll say it for another month if that's how long it takes! But soon we'll be able to leave this worm-infested hole and when we do, I'll remember those who followed orders and those who didn't."
Rees paused. "Meaning what? Are you threatening me?"
Marley grinned but there was no humour in it. His eyes glinted like a man dancing on the edge of insanity. "Not threatening, Rees, promising. And you know I always keep my promises."
Rees did not reply. A cold shudder went through him and Marley laughed but Pinnochio did not hear any more. He had blacked out again and this time he prayed he would not wake up.
* * *
Hobbes led her to where he had last seen Pinocchio, all the while giving Florence a verbal commentary of what had happened. She appeared to be ignoring him, her attention focussed on the ground and whatever signs it might reveal. Hobbs fell silent and looked around uneasily, Dexter trailing along behind him. Whatever instinct had made Pinocchio so jumpy when they had reached this point was now rubbing off on him. He wondered if they were being watched but could detect no sign of company. He watched Florence crouch down and walked over to her. His eyes narrowed against the harsh light. Forence pointed to what looked like drag marks in the dry soil and started to follow them backwards. Hobbes noted that the marks were quite deep indicating that whatever had been dragged was on the heavy side. His mouth went dry. Suddenly Florence stopped and he noticed the marks had disappeared. He frowned, disconcerted.
Hobbes replayed their last conversation over in his head. He and Pinocchio had been finishing a routine sweep and Pinocchio had started to turn back. Hobbs had wanted to go on. He hated being tied to a camp but Pinocchio had insisted they do it by the numbers. Check the area out first, if safe find a suitable site and move the camp forward. Set up a perimeter then set up a guard overnight before repeating the whole damn exercise again at first light. It was getting tedious and Hobbes had run out of patience but his bitching about it did not cut it with his friend.
"I can't help it if you're bored, Hobbes. This is no family outing so get used to it. It may save your life one day."
That was when Hobbes had blown a fuse and started ranting and raving at Pinocchio. Wanting to know why Pinocchio was always the one who got to make the decisions. Pinocchio had reacted angrily and started to yell back but then the expression on his face changed just before Hobbes threw the first punch at his head. At the time it had not registered, he was just so mad. Pinocchio had no longer been looking at him but at something behind him. Then Hobbes had landed the punch which threw Pinocchio flat on his back just as something heavy and hard struck him on the back of his head. Hobbes sucked in a cold breath in surprise. He had been struck from behind. It had not been Pinocchio who knocked him out after all. If he had been thinking straight he would have realised it at the start but he had been so angry it had blinded him to everything else. The blood started to drain from his face. Florence gave him a curious look.
"It was my fault, Florence. I don't know why I didn't remember before. I was arguing with Pinocchio, he wanted to go back and I wanted to press on. It wasn't Pinocchio that knocked me out. He had been trying to warn me only I wasn't listening."
Florence nodded, her expression sad. He realised then that she had known that all along, ever since she had looked at the crack on the back of his head when he turned up back at the camp alone. He felt sick. He also felt afraid but not for himself. He was worried about Pinocchio. What if it was Santiago's people who had taken him? Was that why the tracks suddenly vanished? But if it had been Santiago, why had they left him? There was a price on his head too. He looked at Florence. She was watching him closely. Of all the things he did not know he was now certain of one thing. Whoever had captured Pinocchio, it was not Santiago.
* * *
It took Rees a long time to convince Marley that the plan was worth considering, but as his brother would be the one taking all the risks he listened. After all, Santiago had never seen Rees and would hopefully not connect him to the rest of the small band of deserters. Even so, Marley was eying him coldly. He had gone to great lengths to keep out of sight of Santiago's patrols and now here was his half-wit of a brother suggesting he walk right in among that snake-pit and calmly expect to make a trade. Marley shook his head in disbelief.
"This is stupid."
Rees grunted. He could not stand being cooped up in this slaughterhouse another day longer. "He has a price on his head and it gives us a way out."
For a moment Marley said nothing. He had cleaned Pinocchio up so he could string him on to the frame. What was left of the last victim would suffice for another day, maybe two, after that they would be out of fresh meat. Keeping Pinocchio alive long enough to trade was not his first choice but it would ease the growing tension between himself and his brother and give them time to finish the tunnel in case Santiago did not accept. The others were busy finishing off the dig. Another day or so ought to do it but he knew he could not get Rees to hold off that long. This way would buy a little more time. Besides, there was a high chance that Rees would never leave Santiago City alive. He gave a reluctant nod. It was his brother's call.
"Okay, but if it looks like it's going to backfire you get out of there quick."
Rees grunted. "Hrmmph, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?"
"I just don't want you messing up and leading Santiago's men back here!"
Rees coloured, was about to say something when he heard Pinocchio groan. He looked at the knives Marley had laid out on the newly washed slab. No way did he want to watch another man carved up alive. The last one had taken three days to die while he was slowly butchered. His brother insisted it made the meat more tender and kept it fresh but it still made Rees feel sick. He wondered if Marley would hold off until he returned. Marley seemed to read his thoughts.
"You have three days. If you're not back by then he dies and we go on without you."
Rees nodded. Whatever familial ties they shared were not strong enough for them to die for each other. Had they not shared the same placenta Rees would have sworn they did not come from the same womb. Though there was a strong physical resemblance it ended there. Their personalities were diametrically opposed. Only the desire to escape Harsh Realm kept the brothers together.
Marley watched him go. He did not wish his brother luck. The foolhardy did not deserve any and Rees was weak. Marley checked the catgut ties and noticed both Pinocchio's eyes were shut now. If he was going to keep him alive for another three days that meant they had another mouth to feed. He would water down the broth, it was the best he could do. Satisfied that their prisoner was secure he picked up a pick-ax and walked off down the tunnel to join the others. He consulted his diagrams only once. He knew every line, every angle and measurement by heart. They were close now, he could feel it. Freedom beckoned.
* * *
Florence was thinking. Hobbes was pacing, his expression worried. He could not understand why she was just standing there. Then he noticed something. She was watching Dexter. Hobbes stopped pacing. "What?"
Florence turned her head and cocked it to one side. Listening. Hobbes noticed she was copying his dog. He held his breath and listened too, then he heard it. A dull rythmic thudding sound. "What's that?"
Florence did not answer. The dog got excited and ran off ahead of them. All Florence's movements became sheer economy as if she recognised the need to hurry. Hobbes did not argue. He did not understand how Florence knew the things she did but had learnt to trust her instincts and her abilities. Seeing her and Pinocchio work together was like watching a well oiled
machine. They went perhaps a hundred yards, the sound getting steadily louder. Florence became more cautious but did not slow down. She moved at a crouch now, using every bit of cover she could find. Dexter was nowhere in sight. Hobbes felt the earth tremble under his feet. He stopped in his tracks. Florence dropped to her knees and put the side of her head to the ground. A look of surprise came over her face then a look that could have been understanding. Not for the first time, Hobbes wished he could tell what she was thinking. Florence lifted her head and indicated that they should resume slowly. Hobbes nodded and as they continued they became aware of faint voices ahead. Dexter was waiting for them and at a sign from Hobbs laid down quietly and watched them. Hobbes eased the safety off his weapon and they peered through at a clearing ahead. At first there was nothing to see, but then a shower of soil errupted and half a dozen dirty figures burst out of the ground. Hobbes stared, turned to look at Florence and saw that she was grinning. He frowned. What was so damn funny? Florence flicked her left hand back a couple of times then started to retreat. Hobbs picked up his dog and followed suit, puzzled. When they had retreated a good distance he hissed at her.
"What are we doing?"
Florence indicated they must fall back. Getting no further enlightenment Hobbes nodded and they returned to where they had found the drag marks. Hobbes put Dexter down and watched as Florence studied the ground again, this time more closely. Dexter sniffed the ground and started wandering to and fro as if picking up a variety of scents. Hobbes tilted his head and watched. Florence glanced around, studying the lie of the land and the flora and fauna. Suddenly Dexter darted off and they followed the dog into a thicket. Florence carefully parted the grasses. To Hobbes amazement a tunnel opening was revealed. "Well I'll be..."
Florence did not wait to hear what he was about to say but quickly entered the concealed opening. Hobbes followed. Ahead of them Dexter hesitated only long enough to be sure they were following him then raced on. The tunnel dipped sharply and at first the soil was loose and filled with debris. They were careful on their descent to make as little noise as possible. Hobbes did not call out after Dexter in case it alerted whoever or whatever was waiting for them up ahead. As they got deeper into the tunnel, Hobbes noticed there was a foul smell to the air as if something had died down here. He wrinkled his nose but Florence did not seem to notice, she was cautious but moving much more quickly now, an urgency in her step. Hobbes felt his skin start to crawl, expecting to be jumped at any moment. He flexed his hand around the trigger of his gun. After a few hundred yards they came into a wider part of the tunnel and the stench almost made Hobbes retch. There were some rough tables and ironwork structures which seemed totally out of place. Dexter ran unerringly to where Pinocchio was strapped upside down to one such device. He seemed to be unconscious. Dexter was jumping up, trying to rouse him. Hobbes bit back a curse and moved the dog to one side, his fingers suddenly awkward on the slippery catgut as he tried to untie him. Florence took in the whole scene while Hobbes only saw what they had done to his friend. Florence noted the knives laid out on the slab, the bits of body parts on other tables and quickly realised what she was seeing. Picking up a knife she threw it to Hobbes and picked another up for herself. Quickly they cut Pinocchio down and started to carry him back towards the entrance. Florence gave Hobbes a look of concern. Someone was coming into the tunnel from the opposite direction. They would have to hurry.
* * *
Santiago did not look pleased to see Rees but granted him a brief audience. Things were buzzing at Government House but Rees neither knew not cared why just so long as it did not concern him. He wanted to be in and out as soon as possible. Waters gave him a dirty look then went and stood by the door. Santiago gave Rees a nod. It was as private as it was going to get. "What do you have for me?"
"I have Mike Pinocchio."
Santiago looked at him for a moment. "What do you want?"
"I thought we could trade."
Santiago just looked then turned away from him. "Do what you want with him. No deal."
Rees frowned. He could feel his palms growing sweaty. This was not what he had expected. "What about the bounty on his head?"
"But you haven't brought me his head, have you?"
"I could kill him."
Santiago gave a nonchalant shrug. "Do what you must do." Santiago started to walk away towards the door.
Concerned that he would be leaving with nothing to show for his pains, Rees tried another tack. "Or," he paused for effect "I could just let him go."
Santiago stopped and slowly walked back to him. There was no trace of humour in his face. His voice was still mild but there is an edge to it now. "That would be foolish."
Rees shrugged. "Not for me."
"He doesn't know anything. His information is out of date."
Rees watched Santiago's face closely. "He was your right hand man, and he's smart. What he doesn't know about you he can figure out."
Santiago gave a slow shake of his head. "He wasn't smart enough or you wouldn't have caught him. Go ahead and kill him. Save me the trouble."
Rees's voice became crafty. "I do nothing for nothing, Santiago. Dead or alive I want that bounty."
A tiny cold smile flickered briefly on Santiago's lips. He walked right up to Rees and leant towards him, his face only inches from Rees. "Here's the deal. He dies, you live. Take it or leave it!"
* * *
Back in the Real World Sophie waited at the train station. Inga was certainly punctual. Sophie chose the railway station because the constant coming and going of people gave her the illusion of safety. Part of her knew it was only an illusion. Inga waited for her answer.
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because I'm the only one who can help you. The only one who can help Tom."
Sophie gave her a calculating look. "Why are you doing this?"
Inga's eyes narrow slightly. "I have my reasons."
Sophie and Inga did not speak for a few moments. Sophie still could not figure this woman out. "I know why I'm doing this - for Tom - but what about you? Do you have somebody in Harsh Realm?"
"That's my business."
Sophie's expression hardened. "You're asking me to trust you, that makes it my business too."
Inga paused before speaking, her voice barely audible. "I have someone."
Sophie nodded. "I thought so."
Inga gave her a cold look. "It was a long time ago."
"What happened?"
The shutter came down again. "Time passed. It's over."
Sophie raised her eyebrows in suprise and a sudden burst of hope. "So he's out?"
Inga gave her an unreadable look.
"Out, back in the Real World." Sophie prompted.
There was an odd expression on Inga's face. "In a manner of speaking, yes."
Sophie frowned then Inga spoke quickly. "We're running out of time. Do you still want to go through with this? We will only get one chance."
Sophie nodded back, her curiosity about Inga momentarily forgotten. Whatever happened, she had no intention of spending another Christmas alone.
* * *
It ended in a firefight. Hobbes knew it would. Fortunately they had the element of surprise and there were only half a dozen of them. A look of regret passed across Florence's face as she looked at the bodies and relieved them of their ammunition clips. Hobbes caught her expression. "They were going to kill Pinocchio then butcher him. We had no choice."
Florence nodded. Hobbes looked down at his friend. The breathing seemed to be much shallower. He threw Florence a look of concern and she knelt beside him and laid her hands over a nasty wound on his abdomen. Hobbes watched. No matter how many times he saw Florence heal it never ceased to fill him with awe. The wound started to close up until the flesh was sealed, then Florence worked on his eyes and shattered right leg. After some minutes the worst of the damage had been put right. Pinocchio groaned. Hobbes eased him into a sitting position. "Easy, you've had a tough time."
Pinocchio opened his eyes and noticed immediately how much better he felt. For a start he could see and he was no longer in pain though he still felt weak. He knew without looking that Florence had healed him. His eyes met her's briefly, a salute of thanks that needed no words. At times Hobbs wondered if the two of them were telepathic. It certainly seemed that way. Hobbes helped him to his feet and Pinocchio cast a sad eye around the tunnel, remembering the man they had buthered before his eyes. For a long moment he looked at the metal frame where the victims were tortured. Florence touched his shoulder lightly and Pinocchio gave a grunt to indicate he was alright. All three then ran lightly back out of the tunnel with the dog at their heels.
* * *
Santiago indicated for Waters to come into his office. Waters came up to his desk and waited. Santiago gave a solemn nod. "I want him followed. If he really does have Pinocchio, Hobbes won't be far away. When you find them, kill him and anyone else he has with him then bring Pinocchio and Hobbes to me."
Waters nodded and left. Santiago looked thoughtful. So far they had no idea who had taken the plans but the net was tightening. Rees had been accurate when he said that Mike Pinocchio knew a lot about Santiago and his set up. More than any of the others had ever been told, which was why his betrayal had become such a personal thing. As for Hobbes, he was a threat because people were looking for a hero to lead them out of Harsh Realm and for some reason more and more people were beginning to say it was him. He could not allow anyone to question his authority. Not Pinocchio. Not Hobbes. Not anyone. This was his game and it was not over until he said it was over.
* * *
Sophie looked at the fence. She seemed unconvinced. "You're sure this is a way in? What did you call it?"
Inga nodded. "It's a glitch. A portal."
Sophie looked at her. "And you just walk through it?"
Inga shook her head. "No. I have another way in."
Sophie frowned. "But you can just walk in, like the others?"
"It doesn't quite work that way."
"How does it work? Can I use it? Is this how I can join Tom?"
Inga shook her head. "No. You have to be wired up to enter."
"You're not wired up though, are you?"
"No. That's why I have to use another way."
Sophie did not say anything for a few moments. "Why are you showing me this?"
Inga picked up a rock. "To show you that I'm telling you the truth."
She threw the rock and Sophie saw the fence bend and warp then the rock passed right through the fence. She could see the rock on the ground on the other side. Inga then picked up another rock and threw it at a different part of the fence and it immediately disintegrated. Sophie looked shaken. "Is that going to happen to Tom?"
Inga shook her head. "No."
Sophie looked at the fence. "Does he know the glitch is here?"
Inga shook her head. "Not this one. The whole of Harsh Realm has glitches, unprogrammed bits of the game but very few glitches lead to the outside. Most lead to other parts of the Realm."
Sophie shook her head. "I'm sorry, this is hard for me to grasp."
"It's alright, I'm not a rocket scientist either but I do know this. Where a rock can pass unharmed so can a man."
Sophie looked at her. "What happens now?"
"Now I go in and show them the way out."
Sophie frowned. "Them?"
Inga pursed her lips. "A figure of speech."
"You said them. How many are there?"
Inga shrugged. "There's a belief, an idea that's been growing in Harsh Realm, that there is someone who will come into the Realm and lead them all out again. Someone will go in and save them."
"And they think it's Tom?"
Inga gave a slow nod. "Some of them do."
"And you? Do you believe he was meant to save them?"
"I don't know but if we don't help him Santiago is going to destroy this world so that Harsh Realm is the only world left. A world he totally and utterly controls."
Sophie shivered. "What do you want me to do?"
Inga said nothing for a while. She was looking at the fence. "Nothing - for now. I have to go back before I'm missed. I'll get word to you when everything is ready."
Sophie was not sure what to say so she just nodded.
* * *
Rees had the distinct feeling he was being followed. He gave a grim little smile and decided to find out who it was. He did a loop and then hid and waited. For several minutes nothing happened. He was just beginning to wonder about the level of his paranoia when he heard the soft crunch of army boots indicating a heavy man trying to walk quietly. He waited until the figure came into view. It was the soldier who had been standing just inside Santiago's office while they were talking. He waited until the soldier had just passed by his hiding place then stepped out and cocked his gun close to the man's head. Give him his due, he did not do anything stupid. He froze and held his arms out. Rees circled him and disarmed the man.
"Don't you know it isn't polite to follow someone? A fella might think something underhand was going on."
"I was told to follow you, see if you were telling the truth."
"And?"
Waters shrugged. "That's it." He knew it sounded lame but not as bad as if he had told Rees the truth.
"Well now, maybe you're telling the truth and maybe you're not. Maybe Santiago wants this guy but doesn't want to pay the bounty on him? Is that the way it is?"
"All I know is that I was to follow you and report back."
"That's all?"
Waters nodded. "That's all."
Rees did not believe him but neither did he want to kill him and start a war with Santiago, and he sure as hell could not afford to leave him behind. That left him one option.
"Okay, you can come along but I'll keep the weapon - just in case. Fair?"
Waters nodded, lips pursed together. They picked up speed after that and Waters realised that Rees must have known he was being followed for a while. He cursed himself silently. It took hours for them to reach the tunnel but Waters could swear that he could smell it miles before they got there. He wondered for a moment what he was going to find. Rees looked at him and grinned then took him to the entrance. He paused, suddenly alert. Waters shot him a look. Something was obviously not right. "What's wrong?"
Rees looked down at the marks in the soil, the dislodged shrubs and the indication of several booted feet. He drew his weapon and after a brief pause, threw Waters' weapon to him. Surprised, Waters caught the gun. "Aren't you afraid I might shoot you in the back?"
Rees gave him a grim look. "If we've got company we may have our work cut out. This does not look good."
Waters would have asked more questions but Rees motioned him to be silent and crept into the entrance. He paused, listening and turning his head but the tunnel was quiet. That seemed to disturb him even more. With his heart in his mouth, Rees proceeded carefully down the tunnel, taking no chances. At last they reached the place where the tunnel widened out and saw the reason. Startled, Rees ran forward and checked his brother's body. He was dead. In silence he checked the others. All dead. He looked at Waters. Waters seemed to be looking for somebody. "Where's Pinocchio?"
Rees gave him a look of distrust. "You tell me."
Waters looked surprised. "What? You think I did this?"
"You, Santiago, what's the difference?"
Waters felt himself getting angry. "How would we know where you were? I had to follow you back here if you remember."
"You could have just been saying that to allay my suspicions."
"If that were true why didn't I shoot you when you gave me back my gun?"
Rees did not say anything. Waters was right. It did not add up. Waters gave a sneer. "If you ask me this is Hobbes' doing."
"Hobbes?"
"Yeah, he's a friend of Pinocchio's. I'm betting he came to rescue him and this is the result."
"Do you know where to find him?"
Waters shook his head. "No, but I know where to start looking."
* * *
Hobbs was not sure what to make of the message. Especially when he considered who it was from. Pinocchio had withdrawn into himself and Florence busied herself making a fire so they could heat some water for tea. They were thin on rations so she would water down the bully beef with water and add some roots to bulk it out. Hobbes had long ago stopped tasting his food, it went down easier that way. He looked at Pinocchio and went and sat next to him. Pinocchio appeared to be looking intently at something in the distance but Hobbes knew he was just trying to avoid this conversation. Call it an instinct.
"What's the deal with you and Inga?"
Over by the fire Florence paused. She did not turn her head but she was listening. Pinocchio turned his head to look briefly at Hobbes. "You wouldn't understand."
Hobbes put his hand down to rub Dexter's neck as the little dog settled at his feet. "Try me."
"Inga's been fighting to keep me in Harsh Realm and I've been fighting to get out."
Hobbes frowned. "But you said you don't want to go back."
"Not now I don't."
Pinocchio turned his head away again obviously considering the subject closed. Hobbes watched the side profile of his friend's face closely. "Why not?"
For a long time Pinocchio did not speak. Hobbes knew he was on sensitive ground but he could not help himself. Curiosity mingled with concern for his friend kept him pushing for answers when wiser men would have let it be. At last Pinocchio replied. "Because there's nothing there for me any more."
"I thought you said your body was on a slab back in the Real World?"
Pinocchio looked at him. "It is."
"So what's the problem?"
"That is the problem."
* * *
Omar Santiago knew he had to plug the leak in the system before whoever had the plans could use the information to hack into the programme. It could ruin everything. Of course he had numerous built in firewalls to stop unauthorised access but every system had weaknesses and the glitches were one example. To plug them all he would have to have the whole programme re-written and there was no way he could do that. Too much was at stake. He looked up as Inga Fosse came in.
"Where've you been?"
"Making enquiries."
Santiago frowned. "What kind of enquiries?"
"Subtle ones. I wanted to check if any of the safety systems had been compromised."
"Have they?"
She shook her head and said nothing.
"Well, that's something I suppose."
She looked at him. "And you? Any idea who it is?"
"Not yet. If Pinocchio were still here I would suspect him. No one ever did know his way around the programme the way he did."
Inga frowned. "So you don't think it's him?"
He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "No. Besides, he's been captured. In fact, they've probably killed him by now."
Inga gave nothing away but she tensed ever so slightly. If Santiago had noticed he showed no sign. She wanted to ask questions but did not dare so she remained silent. Santiago looked at her. "I thought you'd be at least curious."
She shrugged. "I have no time for the past."
Santiago was about to say something else when the door was flung open. They both looked up as a bloody and bleeding Major Waters burst in. Several soldiers followed on his heels, alarmed both at his appearance and the sense of urgency. Waters stopped in front of Santiago, only sparing a slightly suprised glance at Inga. "I followed Rees back. Pinnochio was there but he's gone."
"What happened?"
"Rees realised he was being followed and got the drop on me. Then we carried on to the tunnel where his brother was hiding and found everyone had been killed and Pinocchio was gone."
Santiago's expression tightened. "Hobbes!"
Waters nodded. "That's what I thought."
"What about Rees?"
Waters made a grim face, his hands tightening into fists at his side. "I killed him."
Santiago just looked at him for a moment then nodded. "Good work, now go and get cleaned up and have your wounds seen to."
Waters nodded. "Yes, sir!"
Santiago was preoccupied, this put a new complexion on things. Inga waited impassively until she could excuse herself without drawing any attention to the fact. In the event it proved easier than expected. Santiago's officers were now pouring into the council room and no one noticed when she slipped away. Inga did not hurry, she did nothing which might draw attention to herself. The timing now would be crucial.
* * *
Pinocchio showed his disapproval with his body language and every look said they were being set up but he still went with them. Hobbs had to wonder at that. Florence just accepted as only Florence could. When they got to the spot, Pinocchio checked the sketch and co-ordinates Inga had sent them. "This is it. You can go now Hobbes. There's your portal."
Hobbes looked off towards the end of the open ground where a rocky outcrop edged onto the treeline. He saw Inga Fosse appear as if stepping out of a bubble. So the information was accurate. Hobbes looked at Pinocchio. "You're coming too though, aren't you?"
Pinocchio shook his head and glanced over to where Inga was standing about three hundred yards away from them. She had not moved. Her position marked the spot. Florence was watching Hobbes and Pinocchio, taking her cue from them. Inga watched without expression, her pale face hanging like a ghost in the distance. Hobbes could feel himself getting angry at Pinocchio, he just could not understand him.
"Why not? What's your problem? Why come all this way if you don't want to go home?"
"You still don't get it, do you? I can't go back. Right here on Harsh Realm, this is all I have, for good or bad."
"Why?"
Pinocchio's voice became quieter, the anger spent. "You wouldn't understand and I'm too tired to explain."
Hobbes shot a look at Florence but she did not give him any clues. Pinocchio sighed. "You'd better go while you still can." They watched Inga walk slowly towards them but she is not yet in hearing range. "I need to talk to my wife."
Hobbes looked surprised. "Your wife?"
Pinocchio almost smiled at Hobbes' expression. "Yeah, I told you, remember?"
Hobbes looked confused, it just had not registered. "Yes, but..."
"What, you think I was a virgin?"
Hobbes started to redden and Florence gave a fleeting smile. Pinocchio nodded to Florence then walked off and met Inga half-way. The two stopped and started speaking but Hobbes could not hear a word they said. He noticed Pinocchio walking Inga away in another direction, to where the trees were thickest. Hobbes watched dumbfounded then Pinocchio half turned and waved back at him - once. Hobbes raised his hand to wave back but Pinocchio had already turned away from him. Hobbes headed off towards the portal then realised that Florence was no longer following him. He stopped and looked back and saw that Florence was looking off in the direction Pinocchio and Inga had taken. They were still in sight and appeared to be in animated dicussion about something. Hobbes smiled to reassure her. "Who would have thought Pinocchio was a romantic after all?"
Florence turned to look at Hobbes and frowned. Hobbes turned to look at Pinocchio but both he and Inga were no longer in sight. Yet he knew they did not go through the portal. Seeing his expression, Florence looked round then broke into a run. For no reason beyond simple gut instinct and his faith in Florence, Hobbes followed her.
Pinocchio and Inga had walked off through a section of the forest. Inga said very little. Words seemed superfluous between these two yet some things still remained that had to be said. Picking a dark secluded place where they could have some privacy, Pinocchio stopped walking. He turned to Inga. "This'll do." Pinocchio glanced around, making sure they would be alone and not be overheard. "It's as good a place as any."
Inga's face showed no expression but a faint aura of concern tinged her voice. "It doesn't have to end like this, Mike. You could go back with them. They're your friends."
There was an edge to his voice. "Like you care."
Inga sighed. "I made a mistake. I never intended it to turn out like this."
"We both made mistakes, Inga." He did not add 'you were one of mine' but the inference was there all the same. Only the trace of pain in his voice stopped her from getting angry with him. They were passed anger now. She looked at him in silence for several moments, a wealth of meaning passing between them. Pinocchio broke the spell by ratching his weapon to load the chamber with live rounds. Her face flickered. He was watching her intently, willing her to go along with him this one last time. "Just do this for me and all debts are paid."
Inga shook her head slowly. If anything her face was even paler than usual. "You can't ask me to do this for you."
"I can and I am. You owe me, Inga."
Pinocchio turned his weapon round and handed it to her butt first. She could not bring herself to take it off him. Pinocchio came as close to begging as she had ever heard. "I can't take it any more Inga, and you're the only one who can end it for me. This is my only way out, don't you understand?" His voice dropped to a whisper then he suddenly surprised her by leaning forward and kissing her with unexpected passion. Years of pent up emotion spilled out giving the lie to the one thing they had never talked about. She found herself responding just before he broke off the kiss. In that second she knew he still loved her as much if not more than ever and she had betrayed her own feelings in return.
His mouth was next to her ear now, his voice soft, insistent, coaxing. She felt the gun butt pressed into her hands and took it before she realised what she had done. She stood like a statue, a solitary tear running down her cheek. He gave her a last kiss and she took one hand from the gun to gently touch his face. His last whispered words cut her like knives. "I never stopped loving you, Inga. Even when you betrayed me."
Pinocchio slowly knelt and guided her numb hands to hold the barrel against his head. She was crying openly now though she made no sound. Their eyes met and locked like a last embrace, in complete understanding as all around them time stood still. Pinocchio knew the enormity of what he was asking but she was the only one who could finally give him peace. "Do it Inga, do it for me!"
She gave an almost imperceptible nod and he smiled gently. The first time in a long time that he had looked at her with anything approaching tenderness. Silently he mouthed "I forgive you" but through her tears she was not sure whether he had said "I forgive you" or "I love you." In the end, perhaps the two were the same.
The shot shook him more than he had expected even though Pinocchio had braced himself. What he was not expecting was to survive it. He opened his eyes in anger, thinking that Inga had cheated and pulled the gun away at the last minute but as his eyes sprung open another kind of hell filled his vision. He saw the gun fall from her hands as if in slow motion. Her eyes were wide with surprise, the shock having not yet registered. Their eyes met for a moment then she seemed to crumple towards him. Pinocchio stumbled forward to catch her, tears stinging his face as a plume of blood blossomed on her tunic. This could not be happening.
"Inga! Inga, don't do this to me!"
Inga's eyes fluttered up at him on butterfly wings already released from the cocoon of what had been Harsh Realm. She mouthed the words "I'm sorry" and raised a hand to touch his face. He took her hand and kissed it, his tears a benediction for a love that that had never had a chance to bloom. He hugged her close to him and rocked her, crying her name over and over and whispering words that he had never been able to utter with such conviction before.
Florence stood fifty yards away rooted to the spot. She slowly lowered her rifle and let the tears fall unchecked down her face. Hobbes was in shock. Bad enough to see Pinocchio guide Inga's hands as she placed the gun to his head, worse almost to see Florence take the shot that would end two lives. One by the bullet, the other by unresolved grief. Hobbes raced towards the pair, but his legs were going so slow he felt as if the entire earth was grinding to a halt as the lifes's blood drained out of Inga Fosse's body. He skidded to his knees beside his friend, upset to see such grief and helpless to do anything to help him. He looked around for Florence but she had not moved. Quickly he got to his feet and went back to her. He spoke to her over and over but got no response. Only when he had shaken her hard did she seem to come out of it. Her face was a study in conflicting emotions. Sadness, horror, sorrow and distress. He raised his voice to be sure his words got through to her.
"Florence, you must try to help. There's still time."
Florence shook her head. Hobbes gently eased the gun out of her hand and guided her to where Pinocchio sat and cradled Inga. There was blood everywhere but Inga's face looked remarkably calm. She was looking at Pinocchio as if no one else existed. "I always loved you, you know." She said softly. Pinocchio was rocking her, make soft shushing sounds, trying to will the blood to remain in her body and not christen this God-forsaken world. It was his grief that brought Florence round. She wanted to comfort him but knew she must do what she could for Inga. She stroked back the hair from Inga's face. A look of confusion came into her eyes as if she did not know who Florence was. Florence saw the pleading in Pinocchio's eyes. Hobbes got up and stumbled to one side. He could not stand it any more. It was too much. He wandered off to give them some privacy and to recover what little wits he had left. Behind him, Florence was laying on her hands, doing the only thing she knew how to do but the gift had been tainted by her action. She knew it but she had to try. If not for her then for him. Always for him. But as the struggle to preserve life failed the air crackled, blue light flickered through the fading body and with a tiny sigh Inga Fosse was gone. Pinocchio stared stupidly at his empty arms then looked up at Florence. It was Inga's virtual character that had died which meant.... Florence smiled at him and wiped the tears from her face and nodded. Stunned he just sat there. Florence shuffled forward on her knees and looked into his eyes. He saw her goodness, her compassion and her friendship shining back at him and realised that he was no longer alone. Somehow the experience had freed him from a burden he had not realised he had been carrying. But Florence knew. He looked at her with wonder, not quite ready to believe. She opened her arms and drew him to her. Her love was unconditional as she held and comforted him. He let it heal him, flow through him and dry his tears and ease the anger from his heart. He felt warm, safe, and loved. It reminded him of when the sisters had healed him after the landmine went off taking with it his right leg. An act of selfless love had saved him then and he had got his leg and his life back. He had never thought it could happen again.
When Hobbes rejoined them he had no words. He had seen what happened but somehow it had never occurred to him that Inga was a virtual character. After all, she came and went between the virtual world and the Real World just like Santiago. Hobbes put a hand on Pinocchio's shoulder and squeezed. Pinocchio looked at him. His eyes were shining. "She's still alive, Hobbes, in the Real World."
Hobbes nodded, not sure what to say. "I guess she is."
Florence stood and held a hand out to Pinocchio who took it and got to his feet. Hobbes gave his friend an anxious look waiting for a verbal explosion that never came. "Are you alright?" Pinocchio nodded. Absurdly, he seemed at peace. Hobbes did not understand. None of it made sense. Seeing Hobbes expression, Pinocchio laughed. "Don't you see Hobbes? The Inga who followed me into Harsh Realm was the virtual character, not my Inga."
Hobbes did not have the heart to point out the flaws in Pinocchio's logic. He would realise them for himself given time. For now it was enough that he had been saved from himself. Hobbes looked towards the portal, anxious to see if Inga had kept her word and wanting to find out if Sophie really was waiting for him on the other side. As if reading his thoughts, Pinocchio nodded. He was smiling. "Go on Hobbes. Go and see your girl!"
Hobbes hesitated and Florence smiled too. He grinned back then paused. "And you?"
Pinocchio looked at Florence. She nodded. He looked back at Hobbes. "You go, we're staying here."
Hobbes gave his friends an incredulous look. "What? You and Florence?"
Pinocchio shrugged. "Hey, this is Harsh Realm. Anything can happen."
Hobbes hesitated. It was after all, still the world of Omar Santiago. Surely Pinocchio had not forgotten? They had not defeated him yet. Pinocchio stopped smiling. "What's up?"
Hobbes felt bad about bringing it up but he had to know. "What about Inga? The real Inga?"
Pinocchio gave a little sigh. "I can't go back, Hobbes. That much is still true. This way is much better, for everybody. This way we all get a second chance."
"And Inga?"
Pinocchio gave a solemn nod. "Especially Inga."
Still not comprehending Hobbes found it hard to say goodbye. They hugged, promised to keep in touch somehow then Hobbes walked slowly toward the portal. Pinocchio and Florence stood side by side and watched him turn and wave before stepping through and disappearing. They stood for a long time just gazing at each other and communing on some level beyond the need for words. They had been beyond hell and they had survived. Both knew that Santiago's days were numbered and were celebrating that theirs had just begun. Pinocchio gave a little sigh and saw the query in Florence's eyes. He smiled gently. "I was just thanking you."
She smiled back, a beautiful soft smile that came straight from the heart as all of Florence's gifts did. She snuggled up to him and he put a protective arm around her. Slowly they started to walk off together. Neither of them noticed that they had left their weapons lying forgotten in the tall grass beside the trees. Pinocchio paused a moment and thought of Inga. He was free now and so was she. He hoped she would be happy. For the first time in a long long time, he knew he would be.....
********* T H E E N D **********