*
I groaned, pulling myself through the blackness as I tried to move.
"Ahndra! Thank god. . . ."
I forced my eyes open, but the light gave me a sharp pain in my head. When I tried to cover my face with my hands, I couldn't move them from behind me. I again forced my eyes open, blinking away the pain and seeing--I sat up, ignoring the blinding agony in the back of my head. "Marshal!"
He was tied to the far wall of the shed, arms hanging above his head. Blood dripped from his nose and lips, one eye had swelled shut, and the skin on one cheek had been broken to ooze blood. "I'm fine."
I tested the binding at my wrists as I also examined that of my ankles. It would take some work, but I could get out. SeeD were trained to get out of almost everything.
"Are you all right? You've been out cold for an hour."
"Fine."
There sounded voices outside the door of the shed.
"Shit," Marshal hissed. He looked back to me. "Can you get out?"
I only just discovered what knot they'd used. "Wait."
"Shit--shit." Marshal returned his focus to the shed door. "I recognize almost all of them from Katie's attack. There's only three I don't remember seeing before, and two of those are the 'landowners'. Big surprise."
"Questions?" I released a deep breath and relaxed. Then I carefully and slowly tucked my knees to my chin and pulled my hands under my body and in front of me. I started work on the knot on my feet.
"The usual. Who am I. Who am I working for. Blah-blah-blah. Not very imaginative."
I smirked.
"I don't understand why they don't believe me when I say I'm just a photographer. What. Do I have 'spy' written on my forehead?"
I undid the knot and then started work on the strap holding my hands.
"It must be my rugged good looks."
I scoffed.
"Hey. I resent that." Marshal's chains rattled with his slight movement. "Damn it. My arms are going to sleep. I hate it when that happens."
"Wimp."
He chuckled. "Come over here and say that to my face."
I pulled free the final portion of the knot and shook the strap loose as I stood. I hurried over to Marshal while freeing the lock-pick from beside my teeth on the right side of my mouth. I pulled it out and set to work on his hands.
"Wimp," I said again.
Marshal softly laughed while shaking his head. "Sure. Say it when I can't retaliate."
"Later."
"Promises, promises."
My brow furrowed with concentration as I fought with the locking mechanism.
"Damn. Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look when you're all intense like that?"
My lips twitched upward--
The shed door creaked open. "I don't think that's such a good idea."
I stealthily slipped the lock-pick into Marshal's care before turning to face the person who entered. The leader entered first, or so I assumed. He was of average height, not much bigger than Marshal, with mid-length caramel hair pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a type of uniform--black with red trim--with a symbol of a fist on the lower left quadrant. Those men that entered with him--four of them--wore the same uniform but without the red stripe.
Radicals. I hated them.
"Now we can ask you some questions." The leader made a motion with his hand. One of the men hurried forward with a chair, which he set in front of me, and then went to stand beside Marshal. "Sit."
I forced a terrified expression and looked to Marshal. "B-Blake?"
"Ahndra, it's going to be okay. Just do what they say."
The leader adjusted his crossed arms as I 'timidly' made my way to the chair and sat down. I gripped the seat of the chair as I stared at the ground with what I hoped was--
"You fought off three of my men, 'Ahndra'. You can drop the act."
"It's not an act!" Marshal shouted. "She took martial arts for self-defense after--"
The man standing beside Marshal cuffed him hard in the face. "I wasn't talking to you. Keep it shut."
The leader stepped toward me, but I kept my eyes focused on the ground, gauging his threat by the sound of his steps and the way he moved--He wrenched my head up with a fistful of hair. Staring into his black-brown eyes was like staring into those of my father.
I heard the rattle of Marshal's chains. "Don't you touch her!"
The leader regarded my face and my eye with calculating intensity. "Hm." Then he roughly pushed my head down and stepped toward Marshal. "So, you're just a simple photographer who brought his girlfriend for a little sex and a little house-hunting?"
Marshal released a deep breath. "As I've said before, my boss--"
I heard the impact as the leader hit Marshal across the face with the back of his hand. I clenched my jaw and tightened my hold on the chair seat. Then the leader's steps again approached my chair.
"I'd rethink my story, mister, or else your freaky little sex toy's liable to get played with."
Tense silence. "Please," Marshal said in a firmly controlled tone. "Let her go. I'm telling you th--"
"The truth. That's what they all say." The leader came around to the front of my chair and reached out to lift my gaze. He pushed my hair from my eye. "It looks like you've been roughed up before. Then this won't be so scary, will it?"
I just stared mutely up at the man, much as I had learned to do with my father. Fear made these kind of men drunk with power. Tears enraged them. No emotion made them uncertain and robbed them of that which they wanted: a reaction of submission.
The leader smirked and roughly released me. "Just like I thought. This ought to be fun." He snapped his fingers. The remaining three men immediately stepped forward to pull me from the chair. I heard Marshal's chains rattle yet again, but I was strangely calm and distant from what I knew would happen. Of course, it happened before. I knew how to shut it off.
"Unless of course you've got something to say?" the leader asked.
I met Marshal's eyes and sent him a meaningful look. He clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. He focused again on the leader. "I've told you all I can. I'm a photographer taking pictures for--"
The leader made a motion with his hand and the man standing beside Marshal hit him hard. Marshal spat blood and sent the man a murderous glare.
In the center of the room the three men roughly turned me to face the leader. He approached, chuckling as he pulled his shirt from his pants. My insides twisted and cringed back, but I didn't look down from the leader's gaze. I just stared. Dead pan. Not even fighting the men that held me. That would have fed the lust.
"Wait." The leader regarded me with crossed arms. "Wait. We should do this right." He motioned to the far wall. "Hold her up against the wall."
They dragged me back and slammed me hard against the wall. I coughed and forced in a breath as the leader chuckled. But all I saw was the pain and misery in Marshal's expression. It hurt to see it.
The leader motioned toward me. "Now rip part of her shirt." There was the sound of tearing material and buttons popping free. I didn't look away. "Hm. Something's not--that's right." The leader stepped up to me and hit me hard across the face. Lights and spots sparked in my brain and I forced my head up, tasting and feeling the blood drip down my chin. I heard Marshal swear and fight against his chains.
The leader backed off with a nod of approval. He turned to face Marshal. "This should bring back memories, huh? Only I think that time it was your little sister." The leader stepped closer to Marshal and grabbed his shirt-front. "Your name isn't Blake Rankin. You aren't a photographer. Now tell me what I want to know, or--" He made a motion with his free hand and one of the men holding me jerked my pajama bottoms and panties down around my ankles. "Or we have a history lesson."
Marshal didn't look away from my gaze, and I could again feel the caress of his fingers on the bruised skin of my face as a young woman of fourteen. With that same pained expression that pled with me to run away. He clenched h
is jaw. Don't tell them anything. I had survived rapes, beatings, broken bones, and more. I could take this and live. Garden's secrets were mine. I had to protect them. It was all I had left.
"Suit yourself."
The leader turned and approached. I numbed my brain and shut off everything. All I saw was Marshal's face and eyes. All I heard was the rattle of his chains and his voice calling my name...
--bright light – pain--
I coughed and groaned.
"Ahndra?"
Soft touch on my face, warmth surrounding me. I groaned again, dragging myself through the red pain and the misery.
"Oh Shit. Ana? Ana, can you hear me?"
"Marshal?" My voice sounded ragged. I struggled to open my eyes.
"I'm right here."
My vision slowly cleared, and I focused on his silver-charcoal eyes. "You all right?"
"You're kidding." Marshal smoothed some hair from my face and pressed his lips gently against my forehead. "Can you stand?"
My head throbbed, and the world seemed to spin whenever I even thought of moving. "What. . . what happened?"
"I hoped you could tell me." Marshal carefully adjusted his arms around me.
I tried to force thoughts through the pain. "What?"
"Forget it. I need to get you out of here." He adjusted his hold on me and stood, lifting me into his arms. I groaned, and my eyes rolled back at the pain in my head. "Just rest," he whispered as he stepped cautiously forward. "Try not to think, Ana. Okay? Rest."
I relaxed against him, surrendering to the darkness that freed me from the pain.
...soft touch on my face... "...Marshal...?" warmth enfolding my hand...
"I'm here, Ana." ...kiss on hand... “I’m right here.”
...in the blackness....
I groaned and lifted a hand to my face.
"Hey," came a soft voice beside me.
I lowered my hand and looked to my right. Marshal. The wound on his cheek had been stitched and bandaged, and his split lip had been treated. I looked around us. We were on a Garden transport ship.
He crouched down and smiled at me. "How you feeling?"
The throbbing had dulled to a minute ache. I rubbed at my forehead. "Better."
Marshal lightly touched the hair from my face. "You had me worried there for a sec. You couldn't stay awake."
I lowered my hand from my head again and met his gaze. "What happened?"
Marshal briefly shook his head. "Not really sure. One second you were there and the next you weren't."
"What?"
He nodded. "You went into some kind of trance I guess, and then vanished. Then some lady with four arms and some nasty-looking swords appeared out of nowhere and started whacking the hell out of everyone. Except me, thank Hyne."
"What?"
He nodded again. "I know, but that's what happened." Marshal regarded me a moment. "Junctioning wasn't allowed on this mission, but that's what it looked like. A summon."
"Impossible."
"Tell that to the dead men we left behind." I tried to push myself up into a sitting position, but Marshal held me back. "Now hold on. You still look pale." I relaxed back into the cushions with a quick exhalation. He sat beside me. "You know, if that was a summon, that might explain some things about your memory."
I stared at the wall opposite.
"I mean, Garden's kind of stepped away from the whole junctioning thing, except for in extreme circumstances, because of the whole ‘you lose your memory when you junction’." He regarded me. "You didn't know about this one, did you?"
I slightly shook my head.
"Hm. I wonder if it's another GF like Odin or Gilgamesh, as in they show up whenever they damn-well please. Of course, that wouldn't explain why you've been having problems remembering things. It's no wonder you remember Seifer. I mean, you see the guy every day at work. And your dad? How can you forget the bastard with what he did to you? But me? You haven't seen me for years, so it's no wonder those memories got pushed away. The lady needed room to move."
"What was her name?" I asked softly.
"Let's see. I looked up her image in the database. What was it? Asura. Yeah. That's it."
I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands. Asura. Queen of the summon gods. Goddess of war. Where had I picked up the GF? And why didn't I remember?
"Ana. Ana." Marshal took gentle hold of my hands and pulled them from my face. "Hey. It's okay. This explains a lot. Now we can just work on getting the memories back instead of trying to figure out why you lost them in the first place."
I didn't say anything. I couldn't. We were returning to Garden. The mission was finished.
Marshal stood and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. "Sleep now, chicklit. We can talk more a little later. I'll type up the report."
I stared at the ceiling above me and then slowly closed my eyes. '...we...'