In The Town Where All Things Are Possible: Part 15
Need To Catch Up?
In The Town Where All Things Are Possible, Alexandria’s mind was a thumping sickness of pain. She knew that she was walking. She knew that the strings of light she saw were from the outside world filtering through the burlap sack. She knew that her hands were bound.
Beyond that, she had no sense of time, no sense of place, and only a vague idea of how long she had been conscious. The slivers of light reached for her from above. Static, fixed. As she passed them, the light faded almost to complete darkness until the next light surfaced ahead. Stale, cold air reeked of mildewed concrete.
She’d been following the stranger’s footsteps thoughtlessly, as if sleepwalking.
She stopped and considered running. The bindings on her wrists snapped tight and jerked her forward. She stumbled, almost fell, but kept her feet underneath her.
She was not being marched to an execution, she decided. The stranger was keeping her alive, but moving her. She had time to formulate a plan. Any plan. It did not need to be a good plan, but she knew she needed to act.
She heard his footsteps move from concrete to rickety metal. He stopped and so did she. She heard a loud screech and the heavy clank of a latch releasing. A door squealed open. A rush of light and fragrant air swept across Alexandria.
Is it time to run?
Scorching bursts of adrenaline pumped through her heart. Her muscles tensed and coiled. She remembered the binds, the sagging weight of the rope held by the stranger. She could run, but it would do no good. Not yet.
The rope tugged and she followed. Her foot caught some object and she fell forward, catching herself against metal stairs. Wind soaked into the burlap sack. Tall grass rustled nearby. Led by the rope, she climbed the stairs on all fours until she found a steel doorframe. She stood, steadied, then walked toward the fresh air. More stairs, now concrete, then grass. She felt wild flowers kissing her ankles. The rope fell to the ground.
“You have until tomorrow,” the stranger growled, the silhouette of his face visible through the sack.
The silhouette disappeared. The stranger’s footsteps retreated through the grass. The heavy door swung and slammed.
Alexandria yanked the sack off her head, her eyes burning from the intense sunlight.
She spun, looking for the stranger. She only found an empty field rolling toward the sunset before falling off into the distant ocean. Behind her, a rusted steel door was embedded into a small hill that hid the entrance to the underground complex.
She fled, sprinting at her full might for only a hundred yards before dehydration caught her. She gasped, her mouth dry, her heart thumping, her vision darkening. She slowed to a walk and searched the fields. No sight of the stranger. She looked further into the distance, searching for The Town Where All Things Are Possible. She did not see any houses or shops, or even the hill where the Man Who Held The Town Together would be sorting his little cards. But she did see the sea, so she veered toward the coastline.
Alexandria thought of the card that fell through God’s Blowhole. That was what changed the stranger’s mind, she was certain.
She reached the cliffs and looked toward the ocean far below. The waters were choppy, crashing into the walls like an irritable mob. There she saw the family of penguins. The youngest saw her first and squawked at the parents. They all looked up to the pitiful sight of Alexandria. She felt shame. Shame and hatred. Hatred for the stranger that made her feel weak. Hatred for the Town and all its mysteries. Hatred for the Man who did not save her. And hatred for herself. Most of all, for herself.
Could I kill him? she asked, thinking of the stranger hidden away underneath the Town Where All Things Are Possible. It is possible.
The suggestion startled her. The allure of it. It rolled in her mind deliciously, the rage tasting so much better than fear.
Alexandria watched the penguins hobble up a pathway toward her. They would escort her to safety.
Yes, that is the sensible thing to do. Run. Find another life. Just like before.
Yet the desire for vengeance lurked. Waited. Something terrible had awoken.
