Becoming (7 page)

The first of the rats appeared. It was quick, but Gaia was ready. She thrust the knife into its back as it exited, and with a sharp twist severed its spine casting its quivering corpse to one side. Another came. This time Gaia swept the axe into it, cutting it in two. There were more. The slaughter was easy, clinical, routine. One after another they came and Gaia cut them down reaching a tally of eight dead. All were large, all adults. The rats’ eyes bulged in fear and streamed with acid tears, the whites cracked with veins of deep red. Their slavering jaws gasped for fresh air as they burst from the tunnels. Each only tasted it for the briefest of moments before Gaia ripped the life from them.

The stream of rats slowed, but still Gaia waited. One more came, a final victim, a different victim. Its eyes were aflame as the others, it also coughed and spewed, its blazing lungs reaching out for clean air. However, this rat was much smaller. Its hairs were light and thin, the pink flesh could still be seen below. Its claws were not yet formed on its tiny feet. It was one of the young, a desperate, helpless baby rat. It must only have been a few days old, possibly even a day, or a few hours. The rat was new to this world, new to this cold, brutal world of survival, a world of kill or be killed. Its first experience was of pain, of the suffering of the gas. It may never have seen the light of day before, or felt the warmth of the sunshine on its skin. In the briefest of moments the young creature felt the cold drops of rain, tasted the freshness of the air. Those were the last things it felt and tasted. That and the burning pain in its eyes, lungs, stomach and on its skin. It was all over, the rat’s short life ended. Slain by the swift, merciless flash of Gaia’s knife. 

Gaia studied the corpse of the baby rat. Its tiny feet twitched one final time as a spasm shot through its body. Then it was still. Gaia stared at the blade of her knife, still dripping in the rat’s warm, dark crimson blood. The droplets of rain that seeped through the canopy overhead began to wash the blood away. The diluted beads trickled down the blade onto the handle and Gaia’s hand. Her shivering red flesh took on a new shade. Her hand still gripped the handle of the blade, her fingers were white with the force of her clench. This was the first time she had seen a creature so young. The rats bred and matured in a matter of days so it was unusual to find one this way.

Gaia looked at the carnage that lay nearby, at the large carcasses of the slain rats. She knew that whatever this young creature was now, these fierce killers was what it would soon become. This was its place in the hierarchy of life, the new food chain. This was the price of evolution. This new world that had been rebooted by humanity, by those that had come before, by the politician and scientists. The world destroyed by those that looked to progress, but became sloppy and greedy, the unfettered and the arrogant. Together those people had become a beast that destroyed, a beast that swept all aside, all but those that could survive. This was the new world order. This was the way it was now. This baby rat, that had been full of life, of potential had met its destiny. In the new world order the rules were simple, survive or die. Gaia had intervened, taken control. Gaia had played God in a godless world, a world where the only gods were the survivors. The community were the chosen.

6

The mission left the slaughter and made their way back. None of them had been injured or killed. It was a straightforward mission, a success. A few rats had escaped from an exit they had not spotted, the only minor flaw in their triumph. Many creatures had been slain, the bulk wiped out. However, they knew that many other lairs remained. Unknown communities of rats, still waiting to be found and slain. There were many creatures that would be gathering again, preparing to attack. Others would return and find this broken lair. They would recolonise it, start again. The rats instinct was to survive, to breed, to drive the species forward. This was a compulsion, without question. The creatures desire was to be alive and survive.

For now the teams would savour their victory, though the celebrations were muted. The morning had been tough. Both the weather and the assault had exhausted them all, taking its toll on even the fittest and most enthusiastic. The leaders recognised this. They knew there was no point in moving on for further kills. This would do for now. The teams would return, freshen up, eat, and rest ready for some reflection time later that afternoon.

The march back was as before, cold and wet, but without incident. The journey was a blur, a monotonous parade, step after step after step. Gaia was exhausted, and the activities of the night before and the morning lay heavy. The body moved, regimented, precise, but her mind drifted from image to image, issue to issue, worry to worry. There was a lot to think about, but it was the thought of the dead baby rat that kept recurring. That one image overpowered all other thoughts in Gaia’s head. However hard she tried to block it the image kept coming back. The incident had unsettled her. Gaia had never thought of the rats in this way, never seen them so young and vulnerable. She had not seen them as living, sentient creatures, only beasts, a dangerous enemy to be slaughtered at all costs. Like any other creature the rats were born and nurtured. They lived in families and communities, had mothers and fathers, fed, grew, became parents themselves. In turn, the rats would nurture others and keep the cycle moving. Gaia had never considered that before. It was not important, maybe too uncomfortable to contemplate. The truth and reality weakened her. She had been taught to see fierce, savage creatures, told to see only the threat. The rats were the enemy, strong and lethal. They needed to be destroyed.

The young one looked so weak and vulnerable. It was easy prey, no match for Gaia. Maybe to murder it was unfair, the strong destroying the weak. Perhaps that was where the community had got it wrong. Maybe they needed to destroy the young, not the old. By the time they reached maturity the rats were strong, determined, programmed with an insatiable desire to feed, survive, and destroy. The grown rats were a formidable enemy and they became stronger. The young were different. They could be slain with ease. They were not a threat. Maybe they should be the target, before they became strong, before they were lost. Kill the young and you kill the species. Gaia was confused, torn between her emotions of guilt and sorrow for the slain young rat and the logic of survival. 

The community were too passive. The missions felt like training exercises. They needed more purpose. The leaders had been pacified by their own complacency and arrogance. They thought the community were superior, but while they sat and waited their enemy grew strong. This was no longer about missions, this was war. Either the community fought and won it or they would be destroyed. Gaia saw this. The community on the island were doomed, and the seeds of their doom lay in the young.

The mission reached the camp as the lashing rain began to ease. They took their weapons back to storage and made their way to the dorms where they showered and changed into dry, fresh clothes. Gaia sat on her bunk drying her hair with a towel. She took a brush from the drawer and combed it through her soft red hair. The hot shower had revived her aching bones. They still felt stiff, skin a little numb, but the warmth of the soothing water had returned some life and movement. Her feet were still cold, and sharp jabbing pains sliced through them. However, she could almost move her toes again.

Gaia arched her head and gazed out of the window by the bed. The rain had stopped and a few shafts of sunlight threatened to puncture the light grey, thinning cloud. In the background was the babble of the other girls. Gaia was not tuned into the words, each merging into an unfathomable jabber. The events of the morning had dissolved in the warmth of the shower, flushed away in a slow, swirling motion. There were other concerns now. Too many. Gaia had huge decisions to make, ones which would change her life forever. She had no-one to talk to, no-one to share this. There were no friends and family. Gaia had always been alone, but she had never felt lonely, until now.  She needed someone more than ever.

Gaia continued to brush her hair. The slow, sweeping motion was comforting. Why wasn’t there someone else to do this? Someone to rely on and turn to. Someone she loved. There was a strange sensation, as though she was being watched. Gaia turned and saw Hakan standing by the door. He was still, smiling, staring, paying no attention to the flurry of activity around, the bustle of the girls in the dorm. Hakan was only interested in Gaia.

Gaia placed the brush back in the drawer, stood and turned her back to the door. His piercing stare burned through the back of her skull. She tried to look busy, fussing over the bed clothes, trying to iron out the creases, opening the drawer and tidying. In the drawer there was a pencil and notebook, a brush, some pressed flowers in a small wooden box, and a leather wristband. The minutes dragged, but she squeezed every moment from them, stretching them to breaking point. Hoping he would be gone. Waiting as long as possible before turning. Hoping to shake him free. Gaia moved round, not looking at first, then she snatched a quick glimpse. Hakan had gone.

The bell for lunch rang. There was a flurry of activity as the girls in the dorm all sorted their things and left. Gaia stayed for a moment, waiting for all the others to leave. She wanted to make sure Hakan was gone. Gaia did not want to see him again, or feel the shiver of fear rush through her, or the hairs on her skin flare up. He was circling though, letting her know. It was only a matter of time.

The dorm was empty, the mindless chatter replaced with silence. The background noise had helped Gaia. It was reassuring. The silence left too much space to think, space to remember she was on her own, alone and lonely, abandoned. Gaia stood up from her bed and moved towards the door, stopping just short. It was Hakan. He had been there all along. Standing by the doorway just out of view. Waiting for the girls to leave. Waiting for the dorm to empty. Waiting for her. Hakan moved forward into the room and closed the door. Gaia stood a few feet away, face calm, expressionless, concealing the eruption of emotion within. She placed her arms by her side.

Hakan was strong, more than a match for Gaia. He was a leader, and well trained. He had more experience, and natural strength. Gaia had one thing he did not, desperation. This would give her an edge. Gaia also had a switch. She had learned to control it, but had experienced its ferocity when let go. She became another person, an animal, fuelled by a surge of energy, an unfettered anger that was powerful and destructive. All fear was lost, all sense of morality gone. There was a mist, a blanket which smothered all doubt, all hesitation. Gaia would attack with a swift, relentless force. Once the switch had gone controlled chaos would wash over her. If Hakan pushed her, he would feel it. Superior training was on his side, but he would have hesitation. They all did. All those that kept those shreds of humanity, the fragments of decency. This led to indecision and doubt. There was a tipping point where Gaia’s manic aggression would expose this doubt, and magnify the fear. That is when he would begin to crumble, and lose control. That is when Gaia would have him, when the power of her momentum would sweep him aside.

Both stood in silence. Gaia was determined not to speak unless she had to. Hakan was biding time, weighing up his thoughts, measuring his words. He looked straight at her, eyes moving up and down, face awash with lurid pleasure, basking in the satisfaction of his power. Before him was his prey, the latest victim. Hakan had Gaia in his web, and now was the time to savour this. He would not strike yet. There was no need. She was paralysed. He had injected his crippling poison, or at least Gaia had administered it herself through her own arrogance and foolishness. Gaia had believed she could fool him, could break the rules on his watch, in his dorm, under his command. She had shown her disdain, her lack of respect and deserved to be punished. The girl was his and therefore he would decide her fate. There was no need to take this matter anywhere else. Hakan knew what she wanted, what they all wanted. The others had wanted it too and begged for it. This girl was the same. Gaia wanted attention and affection. They all wanted it. She had broken the rules, wanted to get caught and be punished. Hakan cleared his throat and spoke.

‘I’ve been thinking about last night, about your blatant disregard for the rules. You’ve put me in a difficult position thirty seven, or shall we make it Gaia?’

Hakan sneered at Gaia, stepping forward and pacing around her.

‘You’re aware this is my dorm, and I’m responsible for ensuring that order is kept and the rules are followed. We have these rules for a reason. If we allow them to be broken everything disintegrates. All order is gone. Now we can’t have that, can we Gaia? Your actions make me look weak, and I won’t be made to look weak.’

Gaia remained still. Her eyes were fixed on a notch in the wood on the wall by the door. A bland, meaningless notch, but she was trying to find patterns within it, patterns and faces. They were reassuring faces, smiling back, whispering and comforting her. They were ghosts, faces of those that had been here before.
It’ll be all right. Don’t worry dear. It’ll be all right. Don’t listen to him.
Hakan stopped behind her. She felt him lean in, his warm breath touch the nape of her neck, the steady rhythm of his breathing. The warmth faded as he moved his head back and slid around to stand in front. Hakan’s eyes pierced her, his face just a foot away. They burned with pleasure, the drunken pleasure of his power. Gaia clenched her fist. The mist was seeping into her mind. The anger was building. The switch poised. She held it together, pulled herself back from the brink. Now was not the time. It would come, but not now.

‘I’m a man of my word, Gaia. I promised to keep this a secret, our little secret. I have and I will, but this can’t go unpunished. You realise that all actions have consequences.
You’ve
let me down.
You’ve
put me in this position.
You
have to pay.’

Hakan stepped back and turned away, moving towards the wall by the door. He raised his arm and began to trace patterns across it, aimless swirling patterns, swaying his head from side to side as he did so. Hakan stared at the wall, lost in another world, consumed by his thoughts.   

‘So I’ve been thinking about an appropriate punishment, but you know I’m struggling. I must admit I don’t much care for them. They’re so. What’s the word? Crude. Yes, crude. That’s the one. I could come up with something, but would it serve its purpose? Would you learn? Probably not.’

Hakan continued to trace his empty shapes, still lost, still churning over in the cesspit of his mind.

‘We need to find a way though. Some way of making you see you’ve done wrong. A way you can show your remorse. I’ve decided to let you come up with something. A way to say sorry. A way to repay me for your betrayal. So I want you to have a think. I’ll give you two days. Come to my room on Tuesday evening. We’ll discuss it then. Alone.’

Hakan stopped his doodling on the wall and turned to face her. Gaia remained fixed on the dancing faces in the wall, the now deformed faces. They were laughing now, cackling at her.
You deserve this. You brought it all on yourself. This is all your own fault.
Gaia’s mouth was dry, her lips welded together. She ripped her lips apart, felt the skin tear from them. Gaia licked the wound, felt the flash of pain as her tongue hit the exposed flesh. She tasted the blood in her mouth, mixed with the sourness already there, a foul cocktail of despair.

‘Can I go now? I’m going to be late for lunch.’

‘In a moment. First, I need you to tell me that you understand what I’ve said. That you’ll think about this.’

Gaia turned and looked straight at him, a scowl on her face.

‘I understand.’

Gaia rushed past Hakan, through the door and out the dorm. She sprinted towards the refectory without stopping or looking behind. At the refectory door, her lungs burned as she steadied and composed herself, wiping the small beads of sweat from her brow. Catching her breath again, Gaia entered and made towards the serving area. Head bowed she collected her food and sat at one of the tables. Aran was sitting close by, the same table, but opposite sides a few places down. Gaia knew she could not speak to, or acknowledge him, but so wanted to see him and know he was near. She longed to tell Aran what was happening, to reach out and break the loneliness, to feel his warm breath like the night in the woods, his lips brush past hers again. Aran was all Gaia had right now, the closest to a friend, someone to trust. The only one. For now she must remain alone. It was the way it had to be. Finding the answer to Hakan was her problem. Gaia had to find it soon.