Associate Bradbury looks at Casey and I; she places a finger against her mouth, I read this as a gesture that indicates ‘remain quiet.’
We listen hard in the dim light.
Then another noise comes from behind the door; one that I struggle to recognise. I don’t think it is a sound I have been taught. I can’t even decide whether it is a human noise.
Associate Bradbury takes her ear from the door and scans the basement space, searching. Her eyes, sharp and alert, rest on a pile of beat up old baseball bats.
As she walks toward them, I note the sleek athleticism of her physique. Her sport-honed limbs remind me of my own living body; so different to this skinny carcass I now walk in.
She hands Casey and I a bat each, “You guys use these if you have too.” She looks me in the eye, “You understand Kirk?” she asks.
“No,” I answer.
Casey touches my arm; I read a mix of fear and apprehension in her eyes. She takes a gulp and says, “You need to use the bat to hit whatever’s behind that door – IF – they or it is hostile toward us. You understand Kirk?”
“Yes,” I answer.
I read a pondering look on Casey’s face as she looks at the bat, “Associate Bradbury, that voice sounded a lot like Jenna to my ears, I’m not sure we’ll need these, Jenna’s not dangerous.”
“Casey, never underestimate The Dark Side’s ability to trick and deter us from their evil intentions,” replies Associate Bradbury, with a look on her face I read as a mix of impatience and irritation.
“Please help.” The voice slips into our space again. This time I also hear a hint of Jenna in its weak plea. Casey and Associate Bradbury scan the basement. Their eyes move from the door, toward the pile of broken furniture, then swiftly back to the door where another noise seeps from behind it.
The noise from behind the door isn’t human – it’s a scraping, scratching, accompanied by low-level breathy grunt.
“Get me outta here.” Casey walks toward the source of the voice with a determined stride. Associate Bradbury grabs her as she starts to walk into the dark crevices created by the tumble of furniture; she pulls her away and mouths – ‘No.’
The noise from behind the door grows louder. An urgent scraping screeches through the space.
I read fear on Casey’s face, so I hug her. But, I can’t reassure her; I don’t know what is happening in this human situation.
“I’m OK Kirk,” says Casey, pulling herself gently away from me.
So, I grab a rat and have a sneaky munch and purge while Associate Bradbury and Casey discuss human things.
……
Once purged, I become aware of Associate Bradbury and Casey’s dialogue; it sounds animated with anger. Casey’s familiar temper flares, “She’s trapped somewhere in this room, and clearly distressed. I’m not comfortable with your attitude Julia; of course we’ve got to help her,” asserts Casey.
Associate Bradbury replies with a blunt tone in her voice, “I don’t care if you’re not comfortable with my attitude Casey. You must respect and bow to my greater experience of the workings of The Dark Side. I’m exercising extreme caution, being careful. The situation here is critical. Jenna’s voice could be a Dark Side ploy; a distraction from whatever’s behind that door,” she says, throwing an impatient finger toward the door.
