Wrought Iron

I kneel down with one knee pressed up against the dark asphalt. The pavement was still warm even though the night shone black against the looming skyscrapers. My breath comes in silent gasps while the sense of impending doom rises in my chest.

A million thoughts overlap in my brain, all with a greater message. Turn it off. Turn it off. Turn it off. It repeats over and over again in a roaring wave. I break out into a run, trying to be as silent as possible.

My feet move of their own volition towards the tall blue titanium and silver glass skyscraper. My legs nimbly move towards, not the huge silver door, but the concrete square in the sidewalk. I hide within the shadows as I pry my fingers underneath the grimy crack and use a discarded crowbar to peel up off the ground to reveal a staircase leading down into a dark abyss.

I step down into the darkness, and I have my pendant light up the way. As I fly down the stairs, black spiderwebs crawl into my vision. No! NO! Not now, not during my mission! The dark cobwebs slowly clear away and at first, I think that it worked until I see that I'm now in a sitting room with a comfortable worn sofa and beaten TV.   

I was sitting on the plaid couch and my long dark hair is draped haphazardly over my shoulders and down my back. I can see myself in the third person like watching a movie from the outside.

My past self stands up and stretches her arms high over her head then spreads them eagle style. She walks around in a daze and steps into the small plaster kitchen. A short old woman with curly white hair and loose skin paired with knobby frail fingers.

The woman turned around and smiled. "Stir the soup, Rory." Rory stands up to the stove and slowly stirs the huge pot with boiling water and vegetables. She peers into the huge pot and sees a few tiny potatoes and a shriveled carrot.

"I'm about to head out gramma. Do we have any ration tickets?" Rory puts down her ladle and spills a few hot drops on the table.

"Yes, it's on-" Gramma broke off suddenly. The rickety front door blew open and three men walked in. They were tall and had body armor covering every inch of them. 

The scene faded from my vision. The moment it disappeared I stumbled backward and almost fell down the staircase. The feeling of overwhelming fear and anger crashes over me.

In a moment I was left alone with only the darkness. I had always hated the dark. My fear wasn't outrageous. People hate the dark because dark is the absence of light. No light means no sight. No sight is the equivalence of what is unknown. By nature, people don't like to be ignorant, especially not me.

Walking down the staircase, my backpack swings from side to side, and I grip the cold handle of my pistol. My feet fall silently upon the stone.

I make my way down to a circular alcove. Looking around, I notice a shiny steel ladder going straight to the ceiling. I look up towards the ceiling which was so high, I couldn't even see it. There was a door every few feet after the initial 30 feet it takes to get from the alcove to the first floor.

I grip onto the cold metal wires. I take a deep breath and clasp the metal. Slowly, I climb up the rungs. I keep climbing for what seems like hours. This was the only way I could access the server room.

I get to the third floor before the cobwebs start in my peripheral vision. I gasp and open the door hastily.

I hide in a cubicle and pretend like I'm supposed to be there.

The big men surround Rory and her grandmother. "Mrs. D'Angelo, your time is up." Rory trembled like a leaf in the corner. Her face was contorted in a hideous smoothie of fear and amazement.

She didn't want to be impressed but the power that these men possessed attracted her. Even as a nine-year-old, Rory knew to want power. She wanted to be powerful.

 The intense fear won out, as expected. Her grandmother cried out when one of the men prodded her with a stick. "No! Wait! Please, can I just speak to her first?" Rory pleaded with the men.

The men glanced at each other and shrugged. "Fine, you get five minutes."

Rory sat next to her Grandmother and held her paper-thin skin. "Gramma? Why are they taking you?"

"There are some things you need to know, some things that I can't say right now. But all you need to know is," Her grandmother leaned in close, "don't trust them. they will kill you." In her normal voice, Gramma spoke aloud. "I don't want to leave you but I have to. Remember where your last name comes from. Remember what it means. Ferrero, strong as iron."

They took away Gramma and left Rory crying on the floor. Her hair draped over her heaving shoulders. Rory's distinctive purple eyes dulled down to nearly a black. Her pale skin turned sheet white and she cried so hard her nose and cheeks flushed bright red.

After that, only one thing echoed in her head. "Stong as Iron".

The cobwebs cleared again. I glance around to make sure no one saw me. I go back to the secret door and start up the ladder again.

I clasp a safety hook onto the ladder. The stress of this mission is bringing up my fits and I can't afford to break into random floors. The way up seems to take forever. I keep climbing until I reach the top window.

I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes. When I open my eyes I find that I am no longer in the long chute.

Rory stood up as straight as she could as the tall woman looked her over. It had been four years since her grandmother was taken away and 2 years since she found the rebellion. 

"You think you're ready for your first mission? Do you have what it takes Rory Ferraro?" Captain Lionheart projected her voice loud across the auditorium that they were camping out in. Ferraro. Meaning: Strong as iron. Rory thought to herself.

"Yes ma'am! I will take down every last propaganda Hologram in the town. I will make you proud. Captain Lionheart."

“Good. You will do great. Remember, don’t get lost, don’t get caught, and don’t talk. I am entrusting you in this L-Pill. Don’t take it unless you are absolutely sure you might talk.” Captain Lionheart’s grey eyes shone hard. Rory had to look up to see the head attached to her tall muscular frame. It was framed with short brown curls. 

For the first few hours of the mission, Rory did pretty well. She easily snuck around and disabled most of the pods. The other people in the mission like Jackson and Kaily, who’s codenames were Luka and Keira, worked on the technical knowhow while Rory spent her time is destroying the entire pod. 

After a few hours, they got to a particularly well-guarded part of town. “Ready Ciara? Remember to keep that L-pill somewhere hidden. Maybe your hair?” Jackson joked to Rory. 

“Well, I think that is a great idea!” Rory stuck her nose up and harumphed. Kaily rolled her eyes.

“C’mon you guys. Stop flirting Luka, we’ve got a job to do.”

“Oh come on Keira, don’t you get any ideas! I’m not flirting with Ciara, let’s just have some fun before heading towards certain doom!” Jackson joked. 

As they kept marching into the territory, they only went for an hour before running into trouble. They were caught red-handed by a patrol. 

“Okay, just remember our training. Say nothing no matter the price.” Kaily murmured. Little did Rory know, she never saw Kaily again.

The next few months were painful mentally and physically. As far as Rory knew, no one said anything.

The men appeared again for the third time that day. She hobbled as they had to practically hold her up. Her bones were broken and her skin was torn and bloody. 

Rory was set in a cold metal chair in a concrete room. It had a cliche lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The room was otherwise empty. She sat there for at least an hour and she was becoming unnerved. 

The door open after about two hours had passed. Rory expected a man in body armor with a whip or some other torture device. Instead stepped in three men holding none other than Jackson. He was bruised and bloody. Her heart stopped. She knew exactly what they wanted to do with him. 

“Listen, it’s simple really. Just tell us who you are afflicted with and he will not be killed.” 

For an hour she sat in the chair with her best poker face while they tortured Jackson. “We could do this all day. Just tell us who you’re affiliated with.”

Rory’s heart broke and she wanted to sob. She wished there was something she could do to end his pain. Jackson looked at her pleadingly. She then remembered the L-pill. Jackson must have lost his pill. but she still had hers. She actually followed his advice and put the pill in her hair. 

 Rory met his gaze and touched her hair gently. He nodded sadly. Moving as fast as possible, she reached into her thick hair to where the pill was secured. Rory tugged it free and threw it into his mouth. 

Her heart throbbed and she felt like someone had stabbed her chest with a knife of ice-cold guilt. The men would have punished her by death if she wasn’t saved.

Rory was unsure of the exact details of the siege, only the misery of every moment and mission after she threw the L-pill. 

After that day, she was ever determined to keep every other rebel safe.  After all, Ferraro means “strong as iron”. Iron is heated up and cooled to strengthen the sword. Rory was heated up in flames and cooled in ice. She was brought back stronger than ever.

My eyes sting with tears but I rubbed my eyes and took a breath. I knew that I wouldn’t return from this mission. This mission isn’t meant to be one to return from. 

If I succeed, they will all come rushing. If I don’t, it means they found me. I need to succeed. No other rebel should have to do this mission and carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. 

If I’m going to die on this mission, it had better worth it. 

I take a deep breath and press my hands on the metal panel. Pushing it open, I look around the room. 

It’s a large circular room with nothing but a beam through the middle surrounding with a cylindrical piece of glass. In front of the cylinder is a metal box with a huge switch locked with a keypad and a locked box that contained a big red button. 

I walk over to the box and type in the code that I acquired. “4832”. I then pick the lock and open the metal box. Just as I thought, there was a big red button akin to those in the cliche movies. 

Sucking in air, I position my hands over the button and lever. I push the lever and press the button at the same time. The bright beam of light fades and disappears. 

Many soldiers barge in and they all point their weapons at me. I stand there in the middle of the room with what I hope is defiance.

“You’re a dead rebel. Men put her in storage room C and start interrogating her.” The head guard barks. “You stupid, stupid girl. We could easily turn the power back on. You’ve lost and the rebels will lose and they will all die in misery.”

“No! You may think you won but we will win and you will end up groveling at our feet.” I stand my ground and fist my hands at my sides. 

“You are going to tell us everything as you die in pain.” He snarls.

“I won’t tell you anything.” I stand straight and hold my pistol to my head. “Sayonara losers.” 

The gunshot echos through my head along with a bone racking pain. I smile to myself. Unknown to him they will never be able to turn the power on again. 

With all my strength I reach for a wilted flower in my pocket and I clutch it to my heart.

Rory smiles as she nestles into her grandmother. The dusty old couch creaks under them. The television is blaring some sort of propaganda film which is one of the only uses for the broken down hunk of metal and glass.

"And in that world, the beauty around every corner. The sky is as blue as my eyes and the ocean swept for miles on end. Grass fields rolled over hills and a sprinkling of color was added by hundreds of sweet-smelling flowers."

"Like machinery?" Rory's vision was broken by this unfathomable image.

"No dear. It's indescribable."

"I wish I could smell a flower, just once." Rory wistfully murmured.

"You can, my love. Wait right here." Gramma stood up and left the room. The kitchen and a small bedroom were the only other sections in the house. Gramma came back a moment later with a small box in her hands.

Rory remembered the box. When she was younger she peeked in the box because she was so curious to see what was inside it. She couldn't see anything though, because her grandmother yelled at her for snooping. Rory was so distraught because it was the first time her grandmother yelled at her.

Now, 3 years later, at 7 years old, Rory was cautious about the box.

Her grandmother lifted off the top of the small cardboard box and lifted out a flower.

The stem was deep green and bent in several places and there were wilted red petals clustered at the top. Rory inhaled deeply and a sweet and fresh scent flooded her brain.

"This is the rose. It was once one of the most popular flowers but now, it's one of the only flowers. Keep it safe. I will have to leave one day, and I want you to keep it safe."

"I promise gramma, I promise."