Against The Tide

feastsandfables
4 min readSep 23, 2022

#2badpagesaday (54)

Photo by Jonny Clow on Unsplash

They came for him without warning.

He heard the screech of the tyres outside the Administration building.

The slam of the heavy doors opening and the thump of heavy boots.

From his raised office he could hear those boots mounting the stones steps. He could imagine the dark uniforms, the clubs held across barrel chests, the grim expressionless faces.

He had seen it before. He had watched, silently, as they had hauled away others.

Some went quietly. Others railed against the injustice. A few looked around imploringly; those who had been their colleagues until that moment averted their gaze for fear of association. Only once, he recalled, had they dragged away someone else who had the temerity to show horror at what was unfolding.

So, he knew how it worked. Even in his gilded office, he knew these things couldn’t go on forever.

He’d heard the Announcements. He had read the briefing notes about the crackdown. [Personally Authorised by the Head of Security] They all knew that there were risks. They knew that they were one wrong step away from exposing themselves, exposing the others too.

He heard the voice barking out instructions.

He looked out on the rows of Citizens who would shortly see him being led away. They would all avert their gazes. He knew that. No one would risk anything for someone in Management. No one would gaze at him and feel sorry for his plight. Heads down, sighs of relief, don’t do anything to catch the eye of an Enforcer.

He heard the boots marching down the marbled hall.

Without knowing why, he took his seat, turning it to face the window. The sky was a deep blue, cloudless. As the boots stopped he lost himself for a moment in its expanse.

Two of them.

Tall men. Men of few words.

He heard their footsteps. Purposeful. In step.

Closer, and closer.

Perhaps he had known in his heart that they would come for him.

Desperately hoping that they wouldn’t.

Was there relief? His shoulders slumped, and his mind raced.

What did he know?

What did they know?

Was he strong enough?

“Would you come with us, Sir?”

{Sir? A flicker of hope that his position might protect him?}

The walk down the stairs happened in the full gaze of his team, or it would have done if any eyes had been upon him. All heads looking down, studiously avoiding the unfolding drama.

A palpable sense of relief, perhaps. Him, not me.

It was hard to judge how long the drive took.

The hood that was unexpectedly pulled down over his head stifled his senses. It stayed in place even as the vehicle came to a halt; even as strong hands guided him up the steps and down the corridor. He didn’t see the cameras swivelling to follow his stumbling progress. He couldn’t know that the pictures they recorded were being viewed live in the room next to the one booked in his name. It was a room that the Head of Security had often used … just not the current incumbent. This was his first visit to this particular detention centre.

The reports had promised much.

The questioning would be crucial.

He had read their profiles; to check up on their success rates. She was good. Her track record stood out. Occasionally a little ‘enthusiastic’ but the means totally justified the ends. He needed to know. He needed her to pick at the thread, and see what came loose.

He watched as the man was brought into the room.

The sound was off. He waited for the preambles to pass. He had read enough of the reports to know how this would begin.

They had left him alone. His notebook sat on the table next to him; a glass of water.

He watched as they hooked the cuffs onto the chain and pulled it taut, stretching him. He sipped at his water as they cut the wool suit from him, watching as the realisation seeped into the pale body exposed to her cold gaze. Saw the trembling begin. Her dismissive nod to the guards; they bundled up the remnants of his suit and left the cell.

Her lips moved. He reached forward to press the button, her voice now echoing around the room. He caught the end of it … “ … and in the end, you will share it with me. You will unburden yourself. And, so, let us begin.

The bucket of water was ice cold; he knew that from the briefing she had given him only half an hour before. He had dipped his fingers into it.

Squeals of surprise as the icy splash soaked his naked body.

She walked behind him, sweeping the hood off in one well-practiced gesture. The man’s gaze picked out the only thing in his sight line. His eyes widened. The battery was plugged into the wall and the heavy black cables wrapped around it were finished in copper clamps.

The pool of water at his feet took on a pale, golden hue as his body gave in to the terror of the moment.

Her voice was clipped, business-like, terrifying … “So, tell me about the Archivist”

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