“What the fuck.. is this man?” He chokes out in between coughs and I stay silent for a moment, my eyes scouring overthe hell hole of a room, noting the small window on the far wall with a metal pipe running across the ceiling and two pairs of handcuffs hanging from it, and just like a shotgun to the face, the photograph of Ana that was sent to Eli, the lock of hair and the scrap of material flashes in my mind.
I can’t breathe, it’s like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs and I can feel myself spinning out of control.
Yanking my helmet off, I let it drop to the floor with a loud clatter and fall heavily to my knees. The hard, stone floor sends a shooting pain up my legs but I don’t even care. No amount of pain I’ve ever endured or will endure, will ever compare to what Ana has been through in this very room.
I can feel her soul crying out for me. Her very essence is burned into the damp covered bricks that surround me. This has to be a vicious nightmare, a hellish purgatory I’ve been sent to for all my sins. There’s no fucking way the love of my life was kept in this room, there’s just..
No, no, no..pleaseno.
My best friend’s voice seems to fill my ears and then disappear again. “Dean? Talk to me, man.”
I wish I could but I can’t. I can’t seem to do anything.
My body begins to shake, his hands firmly planted on my shoulders. “Hey! Dean! Fucking talk to me man, what’s going on!”
Lifting my mask, I breathe in the stale air, filling my lungs with Ana’s lingering scent. “She.. she was here.”
“Ana was here?” Eli asks, his voice still full of panic.
“Yeah. Remember the photo you were sent? This is the exact same basement.” I say with so much hurt in my words, my heart splitting into two, right down the middle like a fracturedmountain. Eli releases my shoulders and spins on his feet to take in the room, and I can see the exact moment on his face when he realises the truth I’m speaking.
“Shit.” He spits out whilst running his gloved hand down his face. “Fuck! I’m sorry man.”
“We were too late.” I say with defeat, my head hanging low.
I’m no superhero, and I’m not one of those mafia men that Ana reads about in her books, I know that. I’m just a man who is bleeding himself dry to find the woman who completes him. A man who’s more than ready to torch the world to find her and I’m doing everything I can, everything in my power to keep fighting, even if it kills me in the process, I’ll bring her home.
Tears threaten to break the dam as Lyla rubs her face against mine, her soft fur brushing against the now growing beard.
“We’re not too late. Ana would fucking kill you if she saw you thinking like this.” Eli fires out and I turn to face him. “Youhaveto keep fighting for each other, no matter what it costs.”
His words hit like a stray bullet straight between the eyes, and knowing that Ana is fighting to get back to me has me rising to my full height, my hand gripping my mask tightly.
I’ll fucking kill for her, tear worlds apart and set the fuckers alight until I have her in my hands. I’ll watch everything burn around us as I kneel at her feet.
Something changes in me at this very moment. Something darker is forming inside my veins, filling me with rage like I’ve never felt before.
I slip my mask over my face again and grab the night vision goggles from the floor, keeping them in my hand as I begin to walk out of the horror filled room.
“We burn this fucker down.” I say over my shoulder, my voicecompletely unrecognisable.
Throughout the walk back from the basement we managed to find cans of gasoline that I can only guess was used to burn the bodies outside, leaving a trail behind us as we entered back into the open space of the prison, soaking the floor in the flammable substance. The clear liquid splashes against the floor as both of us pour it around the edges before working our way back into the middle.
Once the cans are empty we sling them both into the middle of the room, the metal clanking loudly on the tiled floor and I take one last look around the room, envisioning Ana here, seeing her figure in front of me like a haunting ghost. Just as Eli is about to flick his lighter open, something catches my eye in the corner of the room, the moonlight filtering through the open doors.
“Hold up.” I say to Eli, lifting my hand to stop him from lighting the prison up in flames, then I walk over to where I saw the small item. There right in front of me is a black marker pen. It’s not an unusual item by any means but something feels different about it, a strange pull towards it that I can’t explain.
Crouching down, I grab the marker and look around the wall in front of me, my eyes locking onto a thick black line.
“Eli, look at this.” I say with haste, and begin to follow the line. It doesn’t go on for long and stops just before the double doors of the prison where Eli is standing.
“There’s writing here.” He says, crouching down then fishes his small torch out of one of the pockets on his vest then proceeds to flick the switch on. Immediately a bright light shines onto the gray brick wall, illuminating the words written in a shaky handwriting. The wordsMill. Bunker. Homestares back at me like a taunting creature, each letter burning into my soul the longer I look at them. To anyone else, the handwriting isprobably unrecognisable but there’s a certain way the letter ‘e’ is written, a slight flick on the end is a dead giveaway.
It’s Ana’s writing.
She’s left me a message behind, a breadcrumb to follow.
Running my fingers over the words, I turn to Eli. “This is Ana’s writing, and this,” I point to the word ‘home’. “Is where she’s going.”
