The water continued to roar past her, deafening. You can’t show emotion, a wary part of her mind hissed in her ear. You have no empathy. Charlotte swallowed, closing her eyes and trying desperately to still her racing heart.
“James,” she yelled again, desperately trying to ignore the rising panic in her throat. “James, answer me,” she repeated angrily.
Suddenly the silence was broken and in the darkness she heard a gasp and spluttering. “Charlotte?” James coughed, as the cameras raced to find him, bobbing out on the water.
“I’m here,” she sighed relieved. “I’m over here – follow the light from the camera”. Very slowly, James fought against the current towards her, missing her exact spot by about ten feet, but finding the same ledge.
“We n-n-need to g-get out,” James spluttered, heaving himself on to the ledge with her. Charlotte sidled towards him, awkwardly. Her limbs were heavy from the cold water, uncoordinated. She moved beside him, very aware of how much he was trembling.
“Which way is out?” Charlotte whispered, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. James looked at her carefully, his features caught in the blue glare of the camera, his green eyes searched her face. He was asking her something, she knew it. She could feel it inside her; but he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t voice it. She watched him carefully for a moment, his trembling body, his blue lips and his pale skin. She couldn’t say if it was due to the camera or the cold water. She found herself wondering if James was ok. She could see the same question mirrored in his eyes. She forced a slight smile and nodded, answering his unspoken words.
This seemed to pacify James. He glanced around and then suddenly shot his hand towards the closest camera, not quiet reaching it but holding it motionless with his alteration. Charlotte watched as if effortlessly the camera began to rotate steadily, its blue light growing brighter and brighter. The other cameras hovered about watching the scene unfold below them as the blue light filled the room, casting an eerie glow over the roaring, subterranean river before them. It was a wonder that they had been able to make it to the ledge. Charlotte was fully aware that it was pure luck she had found the foothold in the wall. The water roared before her, grasping at her legs and trying its best to sweep her back into its depths.
The blue light filled the entire space; a large cavern with high cement walls and a crude vaulted ceiling. The water glistened in the blue hue from the camera as the torrents rushed passed them. There seemed to be no entrance other than the gaping hole in the roof they had come through.
“There’s no way out,” Charlotte growled finally. James glanced at her, gritting his teeth as he tried and failed to supress a shiver. The cold was making it hard for Charlotte to think.
“Of course there is,” he said breathily. Charlotte watched him carefully. “Well, he wasn’t going to make it easy. Look, over there,” he said pointing a trembling hand towards the far wall. Charlotte followed his gaze staring at the blue lit wall across the biting water.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, looking back at him. His eyes appeared a strange aqua green in the ghostly light.
“The middle section is different,” he explained. “Look there are two seams – there and there, about an arm span apart”. Charlotte stared from him to the wall, uncertainly. “Why would a solid cement wall have seams?” James asked with a wide smile.
“It’s the way out?” she replied, though her voice was uneven from the cold water. “Can we get over there?”
“Not without going back in,” James said. “There’s only one way across. I mean I could try, but I just…” He zoned out for a moment, staring ahead unseen. Charlotte watched him, questioningly, trying to read his mind. She knew that some part of him was working on their escape, but what he saw ahead of them she could not truly tell. If he was anything like her, he would see their surroundings differently; she could see the fear in people, taste it, and sense it in its infinite manifestations. He saw the world too, through his own senses, his own inbuilt abilities, unique to him alone.
YOU ARE READING
Altered
Science Fiction'They wore uniform grey, their expression hard and distant, their muscles taut with expectation, as if at any moment they were ready to lead an assault, to carry out orders, to kill, to die. And yet they were. Kingston had trained these children to...
