Broken Storm Part One Read online

  Without a clock or some other way to keep track of the hours and minutes, they seemed to be swirling into one lump.

  Long ago she'd stopped crying and the tears had dried up, but her skin still tingled where they had tracked down her cheeks, chin, and neck.

  Though she sniffled occasionally, that was it. She had stopped screaming and calling out for help. She just sat there, shaking slightly, eyes closed against the dark.

  Long ago she had stopped telling herself this was a dream, some kind of terrible nightmare.

  Because the reality had dawned on her.

  It wasn't.

  Keiko had been kidnapped.

  They had taken a photo of her, then they had left, and they had not returned once.

  She tried to run through her head the possibilities of what could be going on here, but she came up with nothing.

  Nothing made sense.

  Why would anyone kidnap her and take a photo of her? She wasn't worth anything to anyone. It wasn't as if they could send a photo to her parents and demand millions of dollars; they barely had enough to retire.

  The more time drew on, the more Keiko's thoughts settled. The more she began to view her situation with a cold, horrid detachment.

  They were going to kill her, weren't they? That was what happened in cases like this. She had seen their faces, after all. Whatever the photo was about, it was a prelude to one thing. Her death.

  The more she thought about it, the more detached she became, but it was not an objective, scientific feeling; it made her numb, as if she was half asleep.

  ‘It’s going to be okay,’ she tried to tell herself once or twice.

  But her promise was an empty and hollow one.

  It was not going to be okay.

  Keiko was trapped. She was weaker than her kidnappers, and she had no opportunity, no chance for escape.

  Unless someone came to get her, Keiko would be at the mercy of her captors.

  Even though she was in a closed-off room, it was then that she heard the wind outside.

  Though it had been a particularly blustery and cold winter, it was nothing compared to the sound of the gale she now heard shake through the building.

  It seemed to be tearing at the roof above, clawing at it, almost as if it wanted to get in.

  It was the single thing that could distract her from her situation. As she sat there, huddling close into herself, her back aching as her arms were tied in such an unnatural position behind her back, she focused all attention she had on the wind roaring outside.

  She wanted to rush out into it. Let it pull against her hair and clothes, and take with it every last one of her troubles.

  But she could not get free. And in that moment, the door opened. The light turned on. Keiko blinked violently against it, the surprise of it shaking her in her chair.

  Then she listened in horrified fascination as slow steps made their way towards her.

  She stopped breathing, maybe her heart stopped beating, and she waited, waited for whoever was behind her to catch up and to do whatever they would do next.

  They would not get the chance.

  She heard an almighty bang as something smashed into something else. It sounded like the wind had caught the door and practically ripped it off its hinges.

  It shook her to the spot, and then Keiko felt it. The violent, sudden rush of air as the wind made its way into the room, pushing her hair over her ears and cheeks.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ someone choked over their words. ‘Get a hammer, prop it closed. The God damn wind’s going to yank it straight off its hinges.’

  Keiko strained her hearing, trying to turn around as much as she could in the chair.

  The wind was still pulling at her, playing against the edges of her cardigan, pushing at her cheeks, racing against the still-tingling tracks of skin were her tears had dried up hours before.

  It bolstered her. Just for a second it gave her fate, focused her attention on something other than how trapped she was.

  ‘Get it secured before there are any more gusts,’ somebody screamed.

  Then there was an almighty roar from outside, and Keiko snapped her head up just as she heard something rip from the roof.

  She heard the men behind her swearing, heard their footfall as they raced about.

  But she focused only on the wind. It still pushed its way into the room, still rushed around her.

  And the more it did, the more it took her fear with it.

  There was another incredible bang as yet another section of roof sounded as if it was ripped away.

  More screams. More chaos. And more wind rushing in towards her.

  She could feel the storm outside growing. Surging to its height.

  She looked up a split second before a piece of roof right above her was torn free in a frantic gust.

  It was almost as if time slowed down as she stared up, the metal yanking off in a screech and falling out of view.

  It tugged a whole section of installation free as it went, and some of it drifted down around her as the wind in the room picked up and became more erratic, circling around and around, Keiko’s hair pushing all over her face as it did.

  She didn’t close her eyes to it. She didn’t try to protect herself as best she could. She just stared upwards at the hole in the ceiling above her.

  She could see the sky above. The clouds. Even though it was dark, she fancied she could still make out the view of them rushing across the sky. Racing, powerful and fast.

  Somebody ran into the room, but as they did, yet another section of the roof ripped off. They flattened themselves to the floor, hunkering their hands over their head as sections of ceiling fell about them.

  Just as they did, the light above exploded. A track of roofing must have smashed into it, crashing through the glass.

  Keiko didn’t even shriek; she still had her face turned up towards the sky above.

  The glass fell fast, down towards the man. He battered his hands against it, then got to his feet, heading over for Keiko.

  He never made it.

  Another section of roof ripped off, but this time it did not fall outside; it slammed right through the building.

  It struck him. With the full force of one of the most powerful gales Keiko had ever seen.

  She screamed and watched the man fall, hitting the ground with a thud.

  He didn’t move, the ragged, broken section of roof covering him in full.

  And that was when her eyes locked onto the broken metal before her. It was sharp.

  Sharp enough to cut through the cable ties that were locking Keiko’s wrists in place and that kept her feet tied around each leg of the chair.

  Ignoring the wind, focusing on the metal as it caught what little light filtered in through the broken roof above, she shifted the chair over to it.

  It was a slow, painfully awkward, hard process, but she managed to reach it, then, with her heart in her mouth, expecting the other man to run into the room and shoot her at any moment, Keiko pressed her ankles into the metal, one by one, not caring that it cut her flesh, but grating up and down until it snapped through the cable ties. Then she maneuvered herself closer, trying to bend down, trying to turn around until her wrists reached the ragged metal edge.

  She had to move the chair right around until she found a section of metal high enough and jagged enough to reach the cable ties. Then, in the most frantic moment of her life, she rubbed against them, her thumb and palms bleeding from the effort until finally the cable tie snapped.

  Keiko pushed herself up from her chair.

  She didn’t pause.

  The wind roared even louder above, pulling more sections of roof off.

  It didn’t frighten her.

  It bolstered her. As it slammed into her, it took the last of her fear with it.

  She ran out the door.

  She didn’t look back.

  She ran right into the night, right into the storm.

  She escaped. The wind
at her back, where it belonged.

  End of Part One. This story is continued in Part Two.