Thirty-five: Where's the toilet?

The door shut and a bolt locked it with a tone of finality that almost made me panic. Taking a few deep breaths to calm down, I looked around the dark room. The window was the first thing I spotted. What was the point of having such a big, thick metal door when there was a window for easy access to the room?

There were two corners I could hide in where I was least likely to be visible from the window. There was a desk immediately beneath the window. Although it looked like a great place to hide, something told me to follow Mr Raring's instructions.

One corner on the same wall as the window was filled by strange, odd shaped objects. I couldn't tell what they were, nor could I get behind them without potentially making a big racket. My instincts told me that I should stay as small, quiet and as unnoticeable as possible. Therefore I chose the corner that was somewhat closer to the window. There was a dark shadow I could hide inside there.

I tripped over something and knocked something that clattered to the floor. I froze. Then I rushed to that corner when I heard footsteps outside. I curled up between a glass cabinet and the wall, behind what felt like an armchair. I could just see part of the window from where I was huddling.

A light swept through the room from the window. Outside, I could hear the popping of guns shooting in the distance and the occasional cry of people in pain. I held my breath, hoping the light wouldn't come anywhere near me.

A sinister face looked in from the window. I couldn't make out his features clearly. All I could tell was that he had big muscles and was exuding blood thirst. He hoisted a rifle to his shoulder, stepped back and sprayed the room through the window.

I wanted to pee. Really, really badly. Whether it was out of fear or because my bladder was full, I couldn't tell. My heart was hammering in my chest so hard I thought it might be audible to the man outside the room. Either that or it was going to burst out of my chest. My mouth was dry and I couldn't swallow. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.

He paused to look around. His eyes fell on the desk below the window. Angling the gun down, he riddled the tabletop full of holes. It was such a good thing I hadn't hidden there. The sound of the gunshots rang in my ears but I didn't dare to move to cover my ears with my hands. I could only hug my knees harder and hope I didn't pee my pants. A distant part of my brain asked where the toilet was when you needed one.

The man appeared disgruntled. He tossed something into the window and left. It clattered and rolled to the floor. I wondered what it was.

A blinding flash of light caught me off guard and in that split second, I caught sight of a grinning skull staring at me from inside the glass cabinet. A shockwave slammed the armchair or whatever it was into my body while glass shards exploded into my face.

My ears rang and I felt both bruised and battered. Glass shards dug into my face and I didn't dare open my eyes, just in case. I was now both deaf and blind. Immobile and still desperate to pee.

The door slammed open and then there was silence. From behind my closed eyes, I felt a beam of light pass over me and flash through the room. A very long moment later, heavy footsteps faded away. They didn't return.

I wasn't sure how long I lay huddled there in the corner.

Running feet that were trying to stay quiet entered the room and amidst the deafened ringing of my ears, a desperate man's voice called me. It sounded muffled and far away.

"Jean! Jean, are you still in here?"

It was him. The Bosky soldier. The one who was probably the leader of the Bosky invasion.

He flipped furniture. His soft cries growing more and more distraught.

Stiffly, I loosened my grip on my knees and moved. It didn't matter who it was right at that moment. So long it was somebody who didn't want me dead and would take me out of here. I just wanted someone to bring me to safety.

And possibly a toilet. A toilet would be good before I peed in my pants, both because I was that scared and because it had been hours since I had last emptied my bladder.

The armchair or whatever it was was hurled off me and I felt a light land on my face, making me recoil.

"Jean! Thank goodness. Don't open your eyes. There's a lot of glass in your face. Are you hurt anywhere else?" a voice asked in my ear.

It was a good thing he talked into my ear or I wouldn't have been able to hear him. I shook my head and was about to open my mouth to speak when a coarse finger brushed glass shards off my lips and pulled a few big pieces out.

"Don't talk. You're covered in glass. I'll carry you out to somewhere safer. Damn those stupid government agents. Are your people all so cracked in their heads to invite people to come and kill you? Why did they bring you here? Did they think my people wouldn't realise it was a trap and come prepared? You're lucky that wasn't a proper explosive or you might be dead. Someone was trying to scare you out of hiding so they could take you as a hostage to try and control me. It's a good thing they didn't find you. When I find out which traitorous bastard it was, I'll kill him."