Chapter Four

This chapter is about Rebecca's (now Elizabeth) first day at The Cottage

I do not go to sleep. I pick up the clothes and put them on. I examine my reflection in the mirror. I’m wearing a black jumpsuit with black combat boots. I pat my sides and find a small pocket. I reach inside and pull out the card. I walk towards the door. I test the handle. It opens. I guess Charles didn’t lock the door after all. I turn off the light in my room and inch slowly out of the door and into the corridor. The corridors dimly lit so I can just about see the door at the end. I creep along, hoping that nobody sees me. I think I hear the sounds of people talking and doors slamming a couple of times but I meet no one. Eventually, I reach the door. I test the handle. It’s unlocked. Wow, security really is lax at this place. I inch through the door, closing it carefully so that no one hears it slam. Once I’m in the next corridor, I turn to the first door on my right. In the middle of the door, there’s a screen. I put the card on the screen. It beeps loudly. I jump. The door unlocks and swings open with a click. I walk inside.

I’m standing in a large room. It’s light despite the fact that the large windows are covered with heavy red curtains. The walls are painted off white and the floor is white Italian marble. Large embroidered rugs are strewn across the floor at random intervals and paintings and posters cover the majority of the walls pristine whiteness. In the far left corner, there’s a large TV, which is surrounded by mismatched sofas and armchairs. Judging by the positions of disarray that the chairs and sofas are in, I assume they were all dragged across the room when something interesting was on TV and nobody ever bothered to put them back.

Behind the sofas, there’s a foosball table. Most of the players’ legs are sticking up in the air. The right wall of the room holds a large marble fireplace around which several more sofas are arranged. A large dog dozes on the patterned rug in front of the smouldering fire. In the far right corner, there’s a small oak kitchen. In front of one of the large (now shut) windows, there’s a drinks bar. Two discarded glasses, which are half full, stand on top of it, whilst several bar stools surround it.

I stand in the room for a moment, just trying to take it all in. it seems that, in one day, I’ve gone from the homeless orphan to a girl living in a mansion learning to be a rich girl who has the world at her feet. Life is crazy sometimes. I walk over to the drinks bar and reach into one of the cupboards, looking for a glass.

And that’s when they jump on top of me. I look up as someone lands on my shoulders. I can’t stand people being near my neck. I bend forward, catching them off balance and they tumble to the floor. They’re dressed in black from head to toe. Their face is covered so I can’t see whether or not they’re male or female. That doesn’t make a difference though.

Another one grabs me from behind so I twist to the side and hit them in the face with my elbows. I elbow them repeatedly until they let go. I stamp on their foot before bringing an elbow crashing into their stomach. They fall to the floor, clutching their stomach. The one that jumped on me first is getting up, preparing themselves for round two. Before they can reach me, I’ve thrown one of the half full glasses at their head. They sway before falling to the floor. I look behind me just as more people in black burst through the open door. I curse myself. Why did I leave it open?

The first one reaches me and I punch them full in the face. They grab my shoulders. I bring my knee up between their legs. They double up. Male, I think. I stamp on his feet before smashing the second glass on his head. He joins the other two on the floor. Two more have reached me. One grabs my arms from behind whilst the other begins picking my legs up. I kick my legs up and propel myself over the head of the one holding my arms. Their arms are pulled back with me. Now, they’re at my mercy. I pull their arms hard and hear a click. Dislocated. He shuffles away, screaming. His companion runs away.

I look around. There are three left. One rushes towards me but I rush over to the smouldering fire and throw a log at him. It skims his arm but he runs off, screaming. Two left. The second one runs after his burning companion and the final one advances towards me. I notice a red-hot poker in the fire. I pull it out and brandish it in front of me like a sword. They pull their mask off.

He has wide set grey eyes and cheekbones which are even more prominent than mine. His hair is light brown and streaked with gold. He was what can be best described as a proud nose. He’s tall and slim and I know him already. It’s the delightful Charles Grey.

“Well fought.” He says, nodding at me.

I point the poker at him. He laughs. “I’m not going to hurt you like you hurt those guys.”

“Prove it.”

He reaches into his black jacket and pulls out a gun, knife and some sort of vial.

“You can pat me down, if you like.” He says, grinning. He has very straight white teeth, I notice.

I nod and put the poker back in the fire.

“You know, Rebecca, or as I should say, Elizabeth, your sheer nerve amazes me.”

I frown at him.

“You seem to be at your bravest when you know that you’re cornered, rather than when you’re safe and part of a group.” He explains.

“I work alone.” I say sharply. I do not need a group to help me fight. Safety in numbers means nothing to me. People just get in my way and stop me from accomplishing what I set out to do.

“Yes, I never doubted that.” He says smoothly, “But, you see, this is a vicious place and, you could do with an ally.” He holds out a gloved hand. “Allies?”

I knock his hand away and spit on the ground. “No.” I say before stalking out of the door.

I storm through the door at the end of the corridor and walk to the door of my room. I turn the handle. It’s locked. I sigh and sit on the floor. I’ll go back to the room with the fire once Charles has left.

I look down at my feet and try to see the logic in the previous event. Was it planned? Was it a test? Do they, like the government want me dead? Are they going to try to kill me? If I go to sleep now, will they slit my throat? If I go to sleep will I ever wake up again? Is there anybody in the world that doesn’t want me dead? A thousand questions whirl about in my confused and muddled mind. Thousands of questions that need answering but thousands of questions which will never be answered. I don’t even know if I want them answered. Sometimes, you have a burning passion to have a question answered but, when it’s finally answered, you’re dissatisfied with the answer. But then, I suppose that that’s life. You want one thing and then, once you get it, you don’t want it anymore. Life is an endless parade of dreams that are never fulfilled but, those who do fulfil their dreams want more. The more you get, the more you want. And me? I don’t know what I want from life but, right now, I want to make it through to the morning without having my throat slit. What a pleasant dream.

I hear footsteps making their way along the corridor. I stand up so fast my head begins to spin. I look around for a weapon to defend myself with. I can’t see any, unless I can wrench the door handle off and use that as a weapon. The problem is that, well, I don’t really have the time to start dismantling doors. I whirl around and begin banging on the nearest door, trying to find someone to let me in. Someone grabs my shoulders. I start bringing my elbows back but then I realise that they’re not really being aggressive. They grabbed my shoulders in a comforting way, not a confrontational way. I twist around to see who it is.

It’s a boy but this one’s younger than Charles. He looks kinder, less mocking, more comforting. His hair’s slightly red and his eyes are sweet and blue. His hair curls slightly around his ears. He looks like the sort of boy girls confide in; not the one they fall in love with.

“You ok?” he says. His voice is soft and calm. It makes me feel calm. I nod and sink to the floor. He sits down next to me. We’re so close we’re touching but, it’s not in a romantic way; it’s more like we’re friends. Friends. I haven’t had any friends for years. I don’t need friends.

I nod.

“Charles can be pretty harsh sometimes but I know that he likes you.”

“Likes me?” I say incredulously, “It’s practically hatred at first sight.”

“Okay, maybe he doesn’t like you,” he admits, “But I think he admires you.”

I don’t know what to say to that so I settle for “Who are you?”

As soon as I say it, I know how rude it sounds. If my mother was here now, she would have had an apocalyptic fit at my rudeness.

Instead of being rude back, the boy smiles slightly. “Eddie, Eddie Johnson.” He says, holding his hand, “And I know that you’re Elizabeth.”

I nod, noticing how he doesn’t call me Rebecca. Does he know that I’m not really called Elizabeth? Or am I Elizabeth now? Is Rebecca gone?

I take his hand and shake it. He drops it back to his side. “What is this place?” I ask.

“This,” He says, gesturing around him, “Is the cottage.”

“I know, I’ve heard that. But what do they do here?”

“They train us.” He says, simply.

“For what?”

“Most of us are trained for direct combat with government agent but,” He lowers his voice, “I’ve heard that some people are trained to go undercover.”

“How many go undercover?” I ask urgently.

“I don’t know. I haven’t met one yet.”

I smile, “Will you show me around?” I say, changing the subject, “I could really use a friend right now.”

His broad face lights up when he smiles broadly, flashing large white teeth. It seems that everyone here has white teeth. Must be part of the deal.

“Sure,” he says, “Do you want to go now?”

I nod and smile in a sweet manner which truly disgusts me. He holds his hand out. I stop myself from brushing it away and accept it instead. He beckons for me to walk with him down the corridor.

“So, how long have you been here for?” I ask.

“I’m not sure,” He says, before adding, “I think I was born here.”

“You mean you grew up here?”

He nods. Upon seeing my incredulous expression, he adds, “It wasn’t so bad actually. It was like having a family.”

“You’re an orphan too?”

“We’re all orphans.”

I change the subject, reminding myself that I’m trying to get more information out of him and the way to do that is not by depressing him.

“So, what activities do we do here?”

“Lots, it’s mostly sports, though.”

“Which sport is your favourite?”

He keeps up a stream of steady conversation regarding sports as we walk along the many corridors. I don’t really care that much, to be honest but, he’s a boy and boys are simple creatures; get them talking about sports and they’ll never stop talking. I sort of zone out to the conversation and just keep nodding my head at the appropriate moments. Eventually, I look up. We’re in a gymnasium.

There’s sports equipment everywhere. Literally everywhere. Treadmills line the far wall whilst punch bags are suspended from the ceiling. In front of the treadmills is a large mirror. In the corner, someone’s running on the treadmill. I walk towards it, trying to see who’s working out at this time of day. All I can see is the back of a brown and gold head. Charles. I turn away quickly and walk in the opposite direction, hoping he doesn’t see me.

“Rebbe-Elizabeth?” He says. I guess he saw me in the mirror. Some wishes just don’t come true. I carry on walking away. “Elizabeth?” I carry on walking. I hear him clambering down off the treadmill. I walk more quickly. Someone touches my shoulder. I tense up. “What are you doing here?”

“Eddie’s giving me a tour.” I say, pointing to where Eddie stands, watching us.

“Sure, it figures.”

“What?” I say sharply.

“Well,” He says twisting me around so I’m facing him, “It makes sense. You see, you’re smart but you don’t want a challenge. You want something safe and boring. Someone stupid.”

“He’s not stupid.” I say defensively but I know it’s true.

“You see that? You’re so defensive.”

“I’m not defensive.” I say, pulling away from his arms.

He laughs and lets me go. I stride over to Eddie. He looks at me and then pulls me out of the door.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

Suddenly, a bell rings. It’s loud and intrusive. Instinctively, I cover my ears.

“Come on,” Eddie says, grabbing my arm and pulling my hands away from my ears “We’ve gotta get back.”

He beckons to me and we run through the maze of corridors. Thankfully, constantly walking from city to city has left me pretty fit because, the corridors are seriously long. Eventually, we reach the corridor with steel doors. He pulls out a card and swipes the door of the one I was attacked in last night. I reach for his hand and grip it tightly as we walk in.

Author's Note

Criticism not only welcomed but encouraged.