It becomes chaos across the back lawn, shots fired and single figures in black appear and disappear, scaling the outer barn house walls or crawling behind bushes. When a figure in hunting camo jumps out a window, more shots are fired but I can’t see by who, and all this I take in as I’m pulled backwards towards the woods by the grip of Retnuh Nivek whose arm has me around the abdomen in a vise-like hold.
I see Jörn in the distance as I am pulled backward, as I watch the barn house shrink from my vision further and further back—see in the distance the washed shade of sunlight slanting across the hilly ground as the canopy of the woods behind me shadows, and seem to enclose me now into its cape of ransom. I try not to think of anything, clear my thoughts and search my surrounding options and gauge my chances of any route of escape while I will away the fight or flight panic to dissipate into something surreal
And then, such inappropriate, incidental details surface my awareness. Awkward discomfort in my shoulders in the cramped grip I’m held in, the sting and taste of fear in my pores and mouth and the dizzying, loud, pounding pulsing sound I hear in my head drowning out all the other sounds all around. Like I’m jettisoned within my own internal reality where time and space seems to begin to alter within its own laws of science.
We continue to move backwards towards the trees as I am held like a shield with the butt of his gun pressed too intently against my abdomen, feeling it bruise into me as it is pointed at Jörn who, in the near distance, advances towards us. At first I saw Jörn freeze in his steps when I first jumped out and surprised him, saw him swiftly move at first to shoot and then suddenly caught to stare at me incomprensibly and then watched as I got caught into the very trap intended for him —but with different and more risky consequences
In this moment, I go over these thoughts....
How he stood momentarily stunned staring at me, aiming his gun in our direction as Retnuh Nivek used his advantage to make me his shield and achieving his ultimate prize aim, I think of the irony that I fall right into his hands and possession, code and all!
But there is no time to dwell over what’s done.... drawn backwards while my very own nemesis is holding his own weapon held in the ready but unable to get a clear shot with me in front, I watch Jörn as he slowly moves, creeping carefully forward as we inch backward
But ....it is almost too much for me.... awash with too much to fully process, and, inappropriately, this taxing of nerves begins to fatigue me; my thoughts steal away. I feel anxiety give into a kind of swoon where I now find myself .... that intoxicated feeling and it is like without choice, it seems I just split off....as it takes me somewhere outside myself—somewhere else....
the surreality of the moment of again encountering my long held enemy ....and it throws me somewhere; as if into some other reality; some other awareness. And with it —that sense that —this is so familiar —so much like another time....like this
....and while dulling my present senses, it plays with my mind....and seems to enhance other senses....as it seems to stun thoughts, warping the walls between present and some other present, a melting and exhausting of temporal reason—to a strange but familiar version; a shift in senses.... and invokes some kind of another dimension of —thoughts ....that reawaken horrors, as if buried deeply in the nether zones of deep consciousness that have laid there dormant.... except in dreams
But where is this?
perhaps it is the fatigue of overwhelming shock which takes me....
do you see the horizon .... ? And remember again.... and see it now there before me ....see it overlaid and present, real—so real— that I can touch it— how it looked, bleached of color in the sun and ....I am somehow there hiding, still there.... hiding ....as if I never left—still hiding
Hiding.... to not to be seen by ....those others. The others.... it was the ones who lived in the long houses; I can still see them all; see the mud, smell the fish, there are the buckets and —the ropes.... the angry faced women calling “Loki!” at me, staring back at me shouting, and the old, terrifying, maimed warrior laughing holding the swinging ax.... that taste of fear
.... and such fear .... then running blindly towards the water .... at first to just not be found by them .... and then to drown .... and wanting to ....
but somehow don’t ....and drift .... and then awake, in the cover of shrubs, shrouded and burrowed deep in the gritty earth.... panting in fear and —watching the horizon....
watching? ....for? ....yes.... watching; because this I do remember, remember it, like home ....even with its accompanying horror....still long for it.... waiting.... I am watching the water and sky, ever still waiting for that boat
and as the sun sinks on the horizon, with it such fear, and each day, still clinging to and waiting, each day ....hoping ....for ....it not to.... for the sun to not disappear .... because —then—he would return, he would come ....and so keep holding on ....to that one hope, he would return, he would come; he promised to, he said he would ....he promised ....because yes, he would, he would come.... but what would then come after....
......
And now I stumble over a tangled patch of weedy grass. It is the loud explosion of a gun shot that is fired that jolts me back to the present, the smoking gun reaches my senses as it comes from the weapon pressed against my own hip!
I look up in panicked fear! Is it Jörn? Is he hit? But,no— the shot missed, I dimly realize in relief as I hear the accusing insult at me spat against the back of my neck —angry at me because it was my misstep that caused the shot to miss his aim at Jörn... and I watch as Jörn darts to the next closest tree for cover behind a thick tree trunk
And as I catch my breath with relief, I feel a wave of dizziness from the pressure that suppresses the air being squeezed out of my lungs by the rough yank that pulls me and I force myself to inhale what little I can, but with it, now get a whiff of the reek belonging to Retnuh Nivek’s own foul breath and mingled with it is the smell of his odious, putrid sweat
....longing to be free of him, I search for the best means of escape that seem most possible ....with Jörn in the near shadows advancing slowly, under the cover of trees and thick shrubs.... but see that he is too far to reach to take the chance, even if I could shake off the bear-like grip trapping me
Still, gauging my chances, assess the surrounding vicinity, trying to estimate any possible choices.... should I catch him in a moment of surprise, maybe just take my chance now? One quick jab of my elbow backward into his lumbering flesh and shake him off ....?
but deciding against this, resist the present urge to, thinking it would be better to wait for more favorable odds as he’s got a gun and know, I’d not get too far....and even as I suspect he would not necessarily kill me right away, as he still has to get the code, I remind myself .... but I also remind myself bitterly that, I know all too well, he would feel little qualms in shooting me in a less fatal place —until he got what he wanted— and so, decide I would rather forgo another lasting injury to have to live with to add to what he has already scarred me with, which for years has left me with quite enough of a life time legacy of physical pain to have to endure, and I’d as soon as much prefer no more ....
And so—if anything—it is high time to even that score .... so, I decide that, at present, no, not great odds, just yet but with a renewed and quite sobering and leveling resolve
....as he drags me backward in the direction towards the bunker underground—as if he knows the way— but how could he know that?
so..... my mind races wildly in thought and in madness of the commotion, reason to myself the possibility that maybe it is ‘the mole’ who must have somehow informed him—because someone must have somehow told him something.... for, clearly, he seems to know the way as we are now heading straight in the direction of where the secret underground is.... which would be impossible to know—so how could he even know this if I can’t even figure how to find it? —so, he must have some other reliable source?
....so now.... I begin to try and piece together some recent impressions; the parking lot at Lake Placid, the man locked in the cage— there must be a connection— and then, I wonder: how much else could that guy know? .... as it seems we advance in the direction right towards the underground with a determined intention ....
....and as we stumble backwards, we trip suddenly over a fallen, dead tree-branch on the ground, and it is now when I look down I notice he wears a smart-watch and as it catches my eye I see its screen is open to a gps navigation map and see there is a blinking red dot ....which must coordinate to this location. So, he must then somehow know not just the layout of the property, but about the dungeon also within.... and what else? So then, yes— of course it must be ....the mole in the dungeon cage.... and Jörn of course figured it out—so, that man I saw that day, the one smoking a cigarette who looked at me so oddly in the Lake Placid parking lot—the one Jörn called ‘Deiter’ ....then think— how much does ‘the mole’ know? I mean.... could he also know that the other safe is a decoy? But.... then, I don’t think anyone besides Jörn, and I guess Willem— would really know that —except, of course, there’s the guy who made it and —well, me ....
And now as we get caught and trip —this time in a much bigger and thicker fallen branch, we do almost fall to the ground, but regaining our footing only stumble, and in this moment of missed footing, things start to happen fast, and while this occurs, I consider opportunities and try to judge just how close Jörn is to us— noticing that he has kept up with us as we have progressed our way backward. And as we move back, I notice too that we have been going at an angle in to the left and so, again, clearly in the general direction headed towards the entrance to underground....
and so, it is during this next round of commotion of another revolution of even louder explosions in echoes of staccatos, which now startles me, as they reverberate through the trees —and with all senses dispersed, it is impossible to comprehend where the gun fire comes from, as it seems from everywhere and all at once and all around us; and so rattled by the noise, I lose my balance —this time we do actually fall down— which is when one shot whizzes right at us in the chaos
“You bitch!” Retnuh Nivek shouts at me as he drops his gun. And I try the opportunity to break free, with a sharp jab by the elbows into him, as he reaches to retrieve it, but my attempts to break free are overcome and my breath is cut off roughly by the grip of his hold against my lungs—and added to the discouragement, get a violent blow to the head, along with a spat, “bitch!” at me, after he bends to get his gun.
Then, a shot wizzes close, just past my ear,
“fuck!” he says and yanks me hard as I am now pulled suddenly over hard cement and realize he’s found the entrance to .... the underground ....
“Shit!” he exclaims, “I’m hit! You fuckin’ bitch!” he throws me against the door and grabs hold of me by the neck of my shirt, glaring into my face, “I don’t suppose you have a key to this door?”
I try to turn my head to look at the door he indicates. But not waiting for my answer he points his gun to the locked doorknob instead, and just shoots at it, at which point a piece of the door hits me in the face and I flinch at the impact, as I feel it cut my cheek
He kicks open the door, and drags me in ....
It is by now I am quite shaken, now finding myself enclosed with him....with no sight of Jörn or anyone, and it is only just me with him alone here—and feel a sense of real terror. For this moment I fear— he’s won; he’s defeated me.... and I fear I have lost my resolve to stay strong....
but something inside me just cannot let him win....
for.... you see.... I know.... I cannot —will not— be defeated. I cannot let him win. he will not win. He did not the last time, nor will he now nor ever; I will never let him win....
and he cannot get inside—we are not here, he cannot reach me inside.... and I will not be beaten
the cell is on the inside, the strong holds won’t be broken
nobody comes in
He throws me against the wall for a moment to get his bearings, and says,
“don’t get any ideas, baby—I’m not done wit’ yo ass!” then grabs hold of me with his other arm, dragging me into the darkened interior
It takes a moment to adjust to the dimness within and then
there is a moment when he stares at me, like the way you see a ghost
Then, he takes me under each arm pit and holds me up to the wall.... and like a demon, he stares his black hole soul into my eyes....
And as he does this, I think about —revisiting the depths of hell— And so, now it is ....only by recalling whatever unconscious power .... I will it to me now. And to myself, will to —remove....far away; the Cell inside.... where she never left; invincible. and all that I know of survival is wrapped in that chamber where no one gets in. where nothing gets in and nothing goes out and all secrets stay. safe inside. the safe is on the inside. safe. and we are not here, he will not win, nothing reaches in. he can’t touch me, I am not afraid of him ....or anyone
.... that invisible Cell that holds us, this Celf, the strong hold fortress walls, we gather it like a cloak all around where nobody gets inside—invisible, invincible
and stare back at him unafraid because he can’t touch me
“Lookie what we got here!” his forced chuckles echoes off the walls, as he clutches at his left arm while grabbing me with the right now but then looks at his hand after touching his wound, “shit....”
as I can see too—there’s blood— but with an evil sounding cackle says,
“aw, don’t worry, baby, it’s just a graze—I’ve had worse than this in my time— as I’m sure you have too!!— yeah, ol’ Retnuh ain’t done yet, don’tcha worry none ‘bout that!” and chuckles but I can tell that it is forced
And in a cavalier manner, he goes on to loudly say
“yeah, no worries, baby!! Retnuh, ain’t done yet— and deffo not wit’ you—“ and drags me along, passing the stairway on the right, through the concrete entrance and past the next doorway with the double doors heading down towards the ramp that leads into the long corridor further in, but first stops to consider the double handles and mumbles “hmmm....” to himself, before he digs into a pocket and pulls out a filthy bandanna. Then laughs to himself as he ties it to the handles,
“buy us some time till we fi-i-i-nd— what we came lookin’ for!” and chuckles again, “come on!” and gruffly takes a hold of the scruff of my collar to yank and drag me along with his good arm.
And as we go he says as he drags me,
“Don’t think that I don’t know about your little dumb ass game— that blog you got, like I’m worried? Ain’t nobody who would give a shit would read what you write about me, kindergarten cloak and dagger shit, like I’m worried! Fuck that, trying to expose me? Dumb bitch!—who’s go’in care, anyways?,” and laughs like it’s a good joke, “but —you—think —you think— dat I don’ know, right? Yo bitch, write about me—nobody ain’ ever read it! You fucker—yeah, fuckin’ sneaky lil’ bitch—you think I don’ know about dat?! —spellin’ my name backwards, like I won’ know it’s me you name—tryin’ to expose me? ...spellin’ my name backwards, yeah, I figgered it out —like dat goin’ work?— tryin’a git a word out on me? Huh, bitch? Well I got one for you— guess who gave me da word on yo?!!” then with a more emphatic and nasty tone this time, he says, with emphasis, “yeah, you’ll never guess dis one—guess who done git me da goods on you!? Yeah—you bet! But you knows, dontcha? Jess like da las’ time, you know! don’tcha?!yo o-o-w-wn sista!!! dats right!—yup! she did, tol’ ol’ Retnuh everything! yup—all your whereabouts, gave me da goods te lead me right to you —and— dat slippery ol’ safe! My, my!!! —yup, she dun!! lead me right te you, she did, how lucky is dat? Uh huh, she done that for her ol’ friend, jus like that night, did ya know that? she tol me you were hiding’ from me in her dorm— aw she hates you! Yeah, baby, it’s gone be just like that night —remember dat night? Or shud-I remind you?.... fuck yeah, lead me right to you then too.... oh, you bet—she hates you!” he laughs now, “but you know dat, don’tcha? Yup, even back den she did—I know why too—she’s fuckin’ jealous ‘cause your da pretty sis, hates yer ass!!—and time ain’ been good to her— nuh-uh— not dat I care, fuck dat! wudeva her deal is no biznez o’mind ‘long as she help me out here, yup, her bizznes, don’ care cuz I gets dat safe!! — all dat’s wud I care but I bet you di’n’t know dat she want it too! Did I shock yo ass? An’ yo have no idea why!! You don’ know what’s even in it, I mean—or—didja know? Mmm-mm well, I’m-a gon’ tell yo! It’s got da proof of yo parentage—some ol’ test from sum lab in Barcelona —yup, cuz it over dat ol’ will, sum ‘bout who your real daddy is —or didntcha know about dat will?” he stops to look at me and seems to find this especially amusing, shaking his head, “yo didna know dint ya? Ha! Yeah! Dat’s right!—you not know dat! ‘ bout dat secret will! Well, she is a greedy bitch ol’ sista! I’d hate her if I wuz yo— she a greedy bitch, her own sista’! Anyways, some clause but den wit your grampa.... I dunno if dat wud even make no diff— but whateva’ ain’ my bizz like I say....” still dragging me stops to look at me again and says, “yeah, her daddy Mel hated you too, dint he? yup, I remember —wanted you dead that night.... but Ah tells you dat night he dun wantcha dead, mmm mmm, that mutha fukka called yo nigger baby.... but whateva— he paid and I said I fucked you up real good so he better be satisfied wid dat, which wuz too bad cos you and I back den we were kinda friends weren’t we?—back den, yeah, I remember, but he paid me to do da job an’ well, I ain’t one to turn down a good offer—no way, jus bizznizz.... yo.... but,” here he stops to stare at me straight in the eye. He says,
“but—wud happen dat night?? I mean— sum weird shit!—you din’t die, didje—” he stares, “like it wud sum divine innervention weird shit— first yo were dead, I saw it! —but den.... you din’t—like I get up an.... I saw yo.... summen happen, someone wuz in dat room wid us —did ye see it?—why —din’t— you die dat night?” he stares at me now stopping suddenly to look at me, “never saw anathin’ like dat weird shit—it was like you jus rose right outta death....!” he just stares now oddly at me, “I mean, afta— after all I did yo shudda been dead! I mean, I wuz done witch-a....I watched yo ass fuckin’ die—! I know a dead body when I see it and you’d wuz dead!“ he shudders staring and shakes his head and then after a moment shakes himself out of it and grabs a cruel hold to drag me on, “well, not this time— I gone finish da job dis time....as I tol’ her I wud....” he drags me as he mumbles “ ....boy was I surprised to hear from her.... she hates you....”
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