1 Time to go
Chapter 1
A battered Toyota pickup cruised past the thick grey walls. Rusted barbed wire swung loose from the top, chipping more of the once white paint. The truck's gear slipped into neutral as it cruised silently past the gates and stopped out of sight of the dozing entrance guard.
The driver's torn shirt revealed one of the bra's cups hanging loose. Its shoulder strap snapped and swinging loosely.
"Perfect," Hla said to herself in the car's mirror, ruffling her shoulder-length black hair. Leaving the door open, she staggered towards the secure unit's entrance. Twenty yards short of her goal, she screamed and collapsed to the concrete road.
It shocked the guard to full attention. He straightened his uniform as if anyone cared what he looked like.
"W, w, what, what's going on?" he called nervously.
The girl knelt, propping her body with one arm as she waved with the other.
"Help," she stammered. Collapsing back to the ground.
The guard knew he should not leave his position. He looked up and down the deserted road. It was three am no one in view.
"Okay, I'm coming," he called as he uprighted his chair.
Panting low, like a dog crippled by a passing bus, then moaning like the driver witnessing the mess. He'd dealt with an attempted suicide inside earlier. "Now what?" he groaned.
"Oh, please help me," she called as the guard reached her.
The guard stooped, turning the victim to face him. The livid scar on her face caught his attention briefly before he noted the girl's uncovered breast.
"What happened?" he asked.
"That man," she pointed towards her vehicle. Finger stabbing like a dagger.
"What did he do? Where is he?" the dumbfounded guard asked.
Coughing, the girl attempted to stand. The man put his arm under her shoulder, giving support taking her weight; he eased her to the wall. He was bending as he struggled to sit her back to the flaking paintwork.
"Thank you, thank you so much. But be careful he is still out there." She pointed again.
Peering in the gloomy darkness, the guard looked along her outstretched arm as the long. The sharp narrow steel blade of a thin stiletto plunged deep between his testicles. Her hand clasped his mouth to stifle any sound. He rolled forward, his head hitting the concrete as the blade whipped across his throat. Not a sound could be heard from inside the jail as she stripped the dead man of his keys.
The girl calmly rearranged her blouse and underwear. Grinning, she strolled to the gate. Using the guard's key, she was inside within seconds.
"That was easy," she whispered and smiled.
Sitting in the guard's seat, she studied the office's filing system. Flicking through papers, "Where are they?" she mumbled.
There wasn't much to see. There were only twenty-four inmates, each in their cell. At one time they had tried cell-sharing, but one cell-mates would always be dead by morning. The duty roster said that two further guards were on duty that night. One pacing the corridor between cells could be heard scraping his baton on the bars, the other as yet unseen from the guard's seat. "Where is he?" she asked herself.
A young man was howling like a rabid wolf.
"I assume that is an inmate?" she thought to herself. "I hope it's not a guard," she said, stifling a laugh.
"Shut up, don't start this again, you arsehole," a male voice rang out from deep inside.
"That confirms where one guard is," she chuckled to herself.
The howling got louder. The guard wrapped the bars harder.
Before she was ready, a uniform cap landed on the desk with a slap in front of her.
"Christ, I'm glad my shift is over. It has been another long boring one."
The guard followed his cap into the room. "Who the hell are you?" he asked.
"I was rescued from a madman outside. Your brave colleague saved me," answered Hla.
"Where is he? You are not allowed here, you do know that?"
"Yes, yes. He told me. He thought it safer here than out there."
She quivered as she pointed at the gate.
The guard radioed the dead man. Looking surprised at no response, he then called the third guard.
"Get to the office now!" he shouted.
The dishevelled officer rushed to the room tucking in his shirt.
"What's going on? I was having a crap. Who is she?"
The third man was brought up to speed by his colleague, with Hla adding the gory bits. The two guards scratching their heads deciding on their next move.
"There was only one guy who attacked you?"
"Yes, but big and strong, and he smelt funny," she said.
"What did he smell of? Urine? Booze? 'Ya Baa', or something else?"
"I don't know what it was. Maybe it's on my hands when I fought with him?" she said, sniffing her arms and screwed up her nose. Pushing her hands towards the man.
Guard two snatched her outstretched left arm and inhaled deeply. The other man busied himself with the radio.
"Pi Kap, where the hell are you?" he asked, turning to face the entranceway.
Hla blocked guard two's nose and mouth with her forearm as she plunged the blade between his ribs and deep into his heart. She hid the steel from view before the guard hit the floor.
"It must be a powerful smell," Hla grunted with a smirk.
The remaining man rushed to his friend. He noticed the blood staining the front of the brown uniform shirt he turned and gawped helplessly at Hla. Her knife flashed as he staggered backwards, falling over his friend's body. The second lunge with the knife's tip bent as it hit his spine after passing through his intestines. The blade nicked his hands as he attempted to halt the flow of blood. Hla stood back, admiring her work. She waited a full minute, checking he would not cause her problems. Grabbing the cell keys, she closed the door behind her.
"Now to find the children," she whispered.
"Hello, Philippa. Do you remember me?" breathed Hla.
"Who are you? Not some goody-goody social worker I hope?"
"My name is Hla, and no, dear, I'm not from public services, I'm here to get you out."
"And Nick?" asked Philippa.
"Naturally. We can all work together. Let's find him."
"Work together?"
"Yes dear, I have some ideas I think you'll like."
Hla and Philippa marched the few steps to the exercise square. Nick's cell was on the opposite side of the crumbling basketball court. They then freed him.
Nick's stony glare surprised Hla.
"He doesn't say much. I thought he would be happy?" Hla said.
"Nick only speaks to me," answered Philippa, turning to her half brother. "This is Hla, we are going to stay with her for a while," said Philippa with an inquisitive look at Hla.
"Yes, yes. We have so much to achieve. Let's release the others and then find a decent meal. What do you say? My name is Hla, a Burmese name, I'll tell you more later."
Philippa nodded and studied the face of her rescuer while Nick almost smiled at the thought of a feast. A feast would have been something other than sloppy brown rice. Philippa was more worried about keeping out of the way of the other inmates.
Hla used her keys to release the prisoner from each cell as they passed. A young person dressed in rags barely enough to remain on her body ran for the gates.
"Stand well back as the crazies go past," Philippa warned.
"True, I understand your thinking, but it will keep the authorities busy for days rounding them all up," chuckled Hla.
As the cell doors slid open, the mass rush to escape didn't happen as expected. Some inmates cowered in the furthest corner of their cells, rolled into balls with torn clothes covering their heads.
"Now that is a surprise," said Hla.
Nick rushed to the security office and flooded the whole prison with light. As the gloom lifted, so did the faces of the prisoners. A thirteen-year-old girl with self-inflicted facial tattoos kissed Nick's feet before sprinting out. A teenage boy was crying for his long-dead brother.
"Oh, he's the one who cries every hour, on the hour," said Philippa. "Bastard keeps me awake."
"He killed his sibling for laughing at his flip-flops," whispered Nick in Philippa's ear.
The rest hobbled, skipped, or ran to the main doors. Outside, screams of glee shattered the early morning quiet as they spread in all directions like confetti at a wedding.
Hla led Philippa and Nick to the truck.
"We must ditch this, and find ourselves another vehicle before we eat," said Hla. "I guess you want to know more about me?"
"We were enjoying our lives so much," said Philippa. "What a shame to change that, yes, of course, we want to know your plans. And, what you expect from us?"
"I had a tough life as a kid," started Hla.
"Don't get us crying," said Philippa sarcastically.
"Hmm, I hope we can be friends? That means working together. Okay, forget for now. You two need building up, you are thirteen and you look ten."
