In Exile : Part 7

Part 7

There I was. From one gauntlet to another. From one raid to another. I had finally understood what these guys were standing up for. They were buying their freedom. Those weaponries that were kept in the basement was the price for it. They were all the marines and soldiers who were on the run. Fighting against the enemies but denied by their homes. Now, seeking for refuge in this country. Exchanging black weapons into black money, The more they earned, the more opportunities of their confiscated document and identity to be released. One month later, little did I know, I turned into one of them.

I had made a fake call to home, by saying I will not be returning back because I had to continue my travel. When they asked me, where was I heading, I simply answered, "I am not sure yet." After my last conversation with them, I deactivated my mobile. I did all that at a gunpoint. Then I had become the sole woman in this safehouse.

Though, I had a rule to myself. I would not let my revolver to fire. Even if I had too, I would open a friendly or warning fire. I would not let myself kill a person. Young or old. Male or female. Though, I had caused a person to fall into his death. If I counted, there were many times too. One was escaping and threw himself out of a cliff. One was accidentally stepped a landmines, while I was standing five meters away from him. It was the most horrifying event that I had ever witnessed. Most of the time, the victims fell into my comrades' gunshots. While I was the one who lead them to the killing field. Made them run and frightened before the bullets pierced their back or their skull. 

I had seen terrible things ever since I had been living in the safehouse. Everyday my t-shirt was soaked in sweats and blood. For some of my clothes, I could not even get rid of the stain. Dried red blood marked that smelled rustic. I had no choice to wear them again the coming night and the day after. That is why I felt like I was haunted by nightmares a lot. I slept over their blood.

I had never been this selfish and soulless. Though, it was not my job to end people's live but I saw how they died and how they got tortured. I did nothing but only stood near them. Watching and looking remotely sad. I had to. Because I did not want to get back on the chair. Being beaten nor receiving heavy punches and kicks from males whose size were twice tall and heavy from me on mandatory gauntlet.

I really hated gauntlet. The first time they were dragging me into it, and I meant, they literally dragged me, was for testing. It was terrifying and traumatizing. I felt like I was in the middle of tantrum of assault. These guys were really going for me. In the end I survived badly. Though, they said that I was pretty good at defending myself. I had a good combat skill, said Jay, who was looking upon me as respected colleague rather than his object of sexual desire or a person with kitchen duty. They called me "The feather girl" because I am the lightest of them all, and I ran the fastest and I could reach the tiniest passage. I was the most flexible. 

Then after a day of massive armgun-raid or after Rush and I had finally closed a big deal to buyers, we always had a party. They boys would all be drinking and smoking joints. There were some girls coming over. While I was only watching from a far from the couch. They boys were asking me whether I needed a companion for a night, so they could call a guy over. I responded with laugh and said, "I don't really do that."

I rather spent time alone in bed. Be the one who woke up earliest the next day and climbing up the hill starting the morning routine alone.

But those days were gone after I found my true companion in the safehouse. His name is Jodie and he is lab terrier. I found him near an abandoned drugstore where Rush and I met a buyer. Jodie was a skinny friend and he followed me right after I threw two slices of bacon at him. Rush told me to move faster, but I could not think of leaving the poor guy alone. So I lifted him in my arms, surprisingly light.

"Can I keep him?" I asked Rush with twinkling hopeful eyes.
"Only if you are the one that take care of him."-- and I took that as a yes.

It turned out I wasn't the only one who took care of the lovely Jodie. The men in the safehouse were letting him having some leftovers and freshly grilled bacons. One week had passed, I could feel Jodie's weight was pressing against my lap and his glorious soft fur in my palm when I brushed him. Jodie smelled of apple, Jay had managed to shop at the pet store to get our favorite scent.

Every party that we had, I saw the men were letting off steam with their callgirls, while I was with Jodie, sitting on the couch until we both fell asleep. 

Then, I was waking up because Jodie had left from my side, and there was only Rush sitting next to my legs.

"Where's Jodie?" that was the first question that I concerned.
"He likes the floor better." He said whilst pointing at Jodie, who was sleeping safe and sound not far from me.
"Do you want a cup of water?" he offered me.
"Yes, please."

I held a red cup that Rush handed me and took a gulp to refresh, until I found the liquid which passed my throat was a lot thicker and stronger than actual water. I could not content the sudden heaviness of my head. As if my neck could no longer support it, half of my body dropped on the floor. I kissed my knees. But not until Rush helped me to walk. Not until him, carrying me to his chamber.

My vision was blur but I could hear Jodie's bark from behind. I also heard Rush who hushed him. Then I heard the door behind us was closed and locked. His arms were strangling my hips. I tried to break the grip but I was under heavy influence thus making him the strongest person in the room.

It all begun when he whispered to me, "I won't hurt you."

But I knew, he will. So I writhed, until I felt the flame across my cheek. He was controlling me one slap to another punch. I fell onto his bed with my legs hanging from the edge of the bed. But quickly enough, he pulled me. Resting my body against the wall and him. I was in between. 

That was the first assault begin. He ripped me from flesh to bones. The alcohol was not strong enough to numb the pain. I still felt it running down my spine. My legs were turning weak. He was breathing under my skin and it was no comfort for me because he groaned at the same time I was crying.

As a sole woman in the safehouse, I was aware that the assault would come eventually. But at one point, when they accepted me for what I am, I did not worry of anything bad would come for me. It felt like a betrayal. I could not believe that the person who dared to do this was my most trusted colleague, who taught me how to handle a revolver, survive a gauntlet and sealed a deal. I did not know if he would let me survive the night. He was still breathing under my neck and whispering,

"I won't hurt you."

In fact, he was.


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