MINDSLIP

5 Captive

7:15am Rome time, in an Italian field

Andrea's eyes opened. What on earth had happened? She blinked twice, shut them firmly and tried again. Apart from not recognising where she was, all the colours were eerie, subdued. She couldn't seem to move her hands to wipe her eyes. Odd!

She'd got the children off to school and relaxed with a coffee. Now, she was lying in the mud, staring at sparsely growing grass. She tried to lift her head. It was creepy. The colours were queer. The grass was blueish-green, not normal green and the trees were greyish, out of focus, washed out, as if in a poorly taken and faded colour photograph.

She must get up and out of this mud, but something was wrong. She couldn't stand.

Everything was wrong. She was unable to rise. Why couldn't she stand? She levered herself upwards using her arms, but she was still not standing. Her legs pushed, but she remained on all fours, resting on her elbows with her head and body pointing downwards. What the devil was going on?

She adjusted her position, lifted one hand out from under her and pushed, freeing the other hand, and she was now properly on all fours. Hands and feet on the ground, yet it wasn't awkward, it felt natural.

She moved forward, no matter how she tried she was unable to stand erect.

Oh God! A cow was standing beside her! It backed away as if afraid, but there were many more. The animals surrounded her, but they weren't cows, they were bullocks. Fear struck her. One false move and these beasts could trample her to death.

There were more cattle the other way. Why on earth couldn't she stand? She turned and caught sight of her own body. It was huge, mahogany brown with a tail swinging at its rear. She was one of them – how was that possible? It had to be a nightmare. She backed away from the other animals, stood by the fence and looked around her.

She was in a large paddock with a farm building on one side. A typical area where animals would be held before being released into other fields or taken in for milking.

Although they were all cattle, not all of them were behaving like cows. One bit the side of another which ran away. A third tried to jump the fence and crunched against it. Several were rolling around on the ground, unable to stand at all. Weird.

Voices behind her spoke what sounded like Italian. She called out to them, but only managed to produce a deep bellow.

It had to be a nightmare. She stood by the fence, continuing to bellow as people passed along the lane. She heard the same language. She wasn't certain it was Italian. What about an Italian dialect? She spoke a little French and German, but not Italian. But now she couldn't speak anyway so no language would be of any help.

The animal which had bitten another decided to pester her. She butted it hard in the head and it went elsewhere. There were more people arriving and staring into the compound, particularly at the cattle which were rolling on the ground. They were certainly behaving strangely.

How long can a dream continue? The day went on and on. She passed wind and emptied her bowels. This was awful, walking around in your own excrement. On one side of the compound there was a building and she pushed against its metal doorway, but it wouldn't budge. The name on the front of the building was MACELLO.

On the other side of the paddock was a steel gate into a larger field. She studied the opening mechanism. There was a sprung-steel bar sticking up. It needed to be lifted and moved in a Z-shape. She tried several times, but there was no way her mouth could perform the task.

Now there were two suns in the sky. The real sun was setting. The crowd of people was in the dozens, but what a strange mixture. Young boys and girls, older men and women. They stared at the animals which were behaving strangely. Hay was thrown in to them. She was hungry but ignored it. A furious argument was raging between some of the people.

She ground her hoof on the earth in front of one of them and stared into his face. Three short blinks, three long blinks and three short blinks again, the code for SOS. The man simply pointed at her, laughed and prattled away to the others who came to watch. She repeated it. Several of them were speaking to her, but in a language of which she had no knowledge. They called another man over to see. She repeated the trick and he spoke slowly and very loudly to her. She couldn't understand him and, eventually, they lost interest. The sun had set. The nova lit the scene, a slightly different tonal quality, but almost as bright as day. The other cattle settled down, although those rolling on the ground continued making noises, trying to stand up and failing dismally.

Tiredness came. She sat on her haunches in the muck. It was awful. The smells were so powerful, but inevitably sleep overtook her and she fell onto her side.

««o»»

There were two suns again. Andrea stumbled onto all fours. Beside her, a dead animal, its sides lacerated and bloody. She looked for the culprit, the bullock which had attacked her. There it was, on the other side biting another beast which hadn't the wit to move away or fight back. There were still several cattle which were rolling strangely on the ground. It was all a big mystery.

She made her way to the gate which connected to the large field. She made several more attempts to operate the mechanism, but each time the steel bar slipped from her grasp when she tried to lift it.

Keeping one eye on the aggressive bullock, she circled the compound, seeking out any weaknesses in her prison and found none. Could she knock the door down and get into the building? She moved over to it and watched a strange assortment of people arriving and gaining access through a street entrance. If she could get inside, then this might offer an escape route. She wondered what macello meant in English. It sounded like an Italian name. Macello farm? She became more determined to get into and through the building. Knowing what macello meant might've helped. Was it a milking parlour? If it was, she wouldn't be able to get into it as a bullock, but if she could get somewhere with access to that street entrance, she was sure she could break out.

But what then? Escape to where? The only Morse code she knew was SOS. Could she scrape some words on the ground? That seemed the best possibility.

Returning to the fence with the road alongside, the grass was sparse. Using her hoof, she gouged the word "HELP" into the soil. She needed to draw people's attention to it. Most European people would know the word "help".

Noises emanated from the building. She trotted over to the doorway hoping to attract someone's attention. More noises as if equipment was being moved or arranged. Was it one of those automated milking parlours? Another bullock pushed her to one side. She held her ground to stop a second doing the same.

The door opened and the black bullock beside her forced its way inwards between some barriers. She made sure she was right behind it, but a falling barrier stopped her. A strangely dressed woman in oversized coveralls and Wellington boots, slapped the first one to encourage it along between the steel hurdles. It reached a corner and disappeared left towards the machinery noise. A gate closed off the end of the walkway. Andrea heard a bang and some clanking. Was it another door around the corner which had slammed? Were they going to separate the animals who could walk? Escape might be easier if she got access to the large field through the building.

They kept her waiting for thirty or forty seconds before the barrier in front of her was lifted. Why the delay? She walked along between the metal fencing to the corner. A gate closed behind her and she faced forward.

The scene which greeted her was horrendous. Blood was gushing from the neck of the black bullock which was hanging by its back legs. It was an abattoir! She had to get away. Panic ran through her. She tried to go back but the gate stopped her. She trumpeted an unearthly bellow and kicked out at the gate. A man came alongside her, speaking Italian. He stroked her cheek and smiled at her. Was he going to help? She flashed SOS with her eyes. Had he realised she wasn't like the others? His hand held her chin and something cold pressed against the back of her head.

What was he doing?

There was a loud bang!

©2019 Tony Harmsworth