The Phoenix

‘Yes,’ Ella said firmly, although inside her panic was mounting. What if they wouldn’t let her out? What if they tried to keep her a prisoner here?

‘Are you sure?’ the second man asked, compounding Ella’s anxiety. ‘It’s very late. Where will you go?’

‘Just open the gates,’ Ella demanded.

He hesitated.

‘Open them!’

To her surprise and relief, the man shrugged and did as she asked, pressing a button that caused the camp gates to swing open. Outside, beyond the softly floodlit glow of Camp Hope, the pitch-dark forest stretched endlessly out in front of her. Ella hesitated. Where am I going to go? she wondered. It suddenly struck her that she had no idea in which direction her car was parked, and Agnes must have driven her at least a few miles away from that spot. There’d be bears out there, and mountain lions, and heaven knew what else. Her phone was dead and she was unarmed. Should she turn back and wait till morning?

‘Leaving us so soon, Ella?’ Ella spun around. The man’s voice rang out in her head as clearly as if she were watching television or listening to the radio in her room. As ever he sounded supremely calm and unconcerned. Amused, almost. It was infuriating.

‘Where are you?!’ Ella’s exasperated voice rang out through the trees. There must be a camera up there somewhere, hidden in the canopy, but in this light she couldn’t see it. ‘Answer me!’

‘No need to shout. You’re free to go at any time, of course,’ he continued, his voice patronizingly slow and patient, as if Ella were the crazy one, not him. ‘This isn’t a prison.’

‘It might as well be,’ Ella yelled into the darkness, aware that anyone listening to her must think her completely insane, having a confrontational conversation with an imaginary friend. ‘Everyone inside is completely brainwashed.’

‘Don’t be so dramatic.’

So there were listening devices out there too? There must be, or how could he be hearing her?

‘How are you doing this? How are you speaking to me? Transmitting …?’

‘Be patient,’ said the man. ‘The answers you seek are all here, Ella, I promise you that. About your parents. Your past. Your future.’

‘No,’ she shot back. ‘They aren’t. No one knows anything.’

A long sigh. ‘They do. Trust me.’

‘Why should I?’ said Ella furiously. ‘Why should I trust you when you won’t tell me who you are, or where you are, or anything at all? And if you really have the answers, why won’t you just tell me them now? What are you waiting for? For me to be brainwashed too? Because I’m telling you now, it’s not going to happen.’

There was a moment’s silence. Total silence. Ella wondered whether the man had gone, ‘hung up’ on whatever line it was he seemed to have into her head, her psyche. But then he spoke again, more kindly than before.

‘Stay here tonight.’ It was less of a command, more of a suggestion. ‘The woods aren’t safe and you need to sleep.’

That much at least was true, much as she wished it weren’t.

‘Someone will brief you by the end of the day tomorrow. If you still want to leave after that meeting, then I’ll help you get safely back home.’

Mute and exhausted, Ella nodded. Wordlessly, she trudged back down the hill towards her bungalow, watched by the two bewildered guards.

She didn’t trust the man. Not as far as she could throw him. But she didn’t trust the bears either.

Tomorrow.

She would leave tomorrow.

One day at Camp Hope wouldn’t kill her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

They’re trying to kill me. They are actually trying to kill me.

Ella sank to her knees, unable to move another step. Her lungs were in agony. After an eight-mile run in punishing midday heat, she felt as if she’d inhaled a bag of razor blades. Her skin burned, the blisters on her feet screamed and a dreadful feeling of nausea rose all the way from the pit of her (empty) stomach to her parched throat. Forget the Marine Corps. The first day’s ‘introductory’ physical training at Camp Hope had clearly been devised by an experienced torturer, possibly headhunted by The Group from a Malaysian prison.

‘All right, ladies. One-minute water break and then you’re in active recovery. That means a light jog back to base. No walking.’ The tracksuit-wearing giant from yesterday smiled at Ella and the two other young women slumped on the ground beside her, as if he’d just done them a favor. He’d apparently abandoned yesterday’s tag-team of skeletons to initiate Ella and the other new recruits into the joys of ops training, an experience Ella would categorically not be repeating after today. Astonishingly, both the other girls smiled weakly back at him, earning themselves a withering glare from Ella. These brainwashed, cult groupies were too much for her. She could tell they were intimidated by her anger, but she couldn’t have cared less if her life depended on it.