Chapter 21 - A Voice From The Past
Lian discovers the depth's to which his captors will sink
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Lian returned from his meditations. As soon as he was able to stand he had begun going through a series of stretches and movements coordinated with deep breathing and relaxation designed to calm, refresh and invigorate him. After being restrained for so long his muscles had cramped and left him feeling weak and feeble, he knew that his future survival would rely on his ability to stay calm and deal with whatever his captors would throw at him next.
The weak overhead light had flickered endlessly robbing him of all notion of time. He had no idea if it was night or day or even how long it'd been since he'd been taken.
He looked around his cell, the cold permeated the concrete and the damp dripped down the walls leaving a musty smell that mixed with the effluent from the open drain to fill the room with a pungent miasma that made him want to gag.
The door opened and Lian looked up expecting to see some more of the boiler suited goons come to interrogate him with their fists. This time he would be ready. They had made the mistake of leaving him untied. The rest and meditation had restored a fraction of his previous abilities, he prayed it would be enough.
Lian had been interrogated many times before and he knew what to expect. First they would look to soften him up, the isolation, restraints and sleep deprivation would have been their first foray. He knew enough to try and roll with the blows, make them look like they’d affected him more than they had. To go with the flow and not fight back, to lull his captors into a false sense of security.
If he bided his time Lian knew his opportunity would come, it always came. Then from a place of perceived weakness he would strike, and from there start to make good his escape.
A small figure crept in through the open door, “Lenny, quickly, it’s me I don't have a lot of time.”
Lian stood staring at the woman, she was about 5’4” and of slight build. Her wild flaming ginger hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her face…
“Lenny, we need your help. It's Ewan they know where he is, you've got to help him. He’s in danger, Lenny…”
Lian’s face dropped, his mouth hung open in shock, not her, it couldn't be, she was dead, he’d buried her, he and Ewan had buried her. His wife, Ewan's mother.
Was this a trick of the light or a trick of his mind? Lian dashed forward with his arms open, desperate to hold her, desperate to see for himself. Was she real? What was she doing here? How did she get here? What was going on?
Sally sighed and opened her arms and reached towards her husband, at the last second as Lian was about to embrace her she let out a terrible scream and was violently yanked back through the cell door as if some invisible force had wrapped around her waist and she was torn from his arms once more.
The cell door slammed shut, Lian crashed headlong in to it and fell to his knees sobbing. He hammered his fists against the cold steel to no avail. He cried out her name over and over. There was no response, no one to answer his calls.
Eventually, an exhausted Lian turned and sat with his back to the wall. His head bowed, legs pulled tightly against his body, Lian wrapped his arms around his legs trying to curl up as small as possible.
Outside in the corridor the laughter started, a cold, heartless, maniacal laugh followed by the sound of footsteps growing fainter and fainter.
Lian sat, his body wracked with sobs.