Cross and Conflicts

CHAPTER XVII: Escape

There was this unease both of them felt. The quietude outside where they were was deafening. The longer they waited for someone to open the door, the more nervous they became. 

 Sister Lita’s thoughts were solely invaded by the plan to escape, but this has to include the participation of who was or were guarding them by the red metal door. 

 Noumenon could only observe the behavior of her adoptive mother as the latter pressed an ear to the door to catch any disturbance from beyond that. She had told her that by the time someone comes inside, that would be their cue to execute what she has in mind. For the novice, it sounded indefinite, and she had to doubt its success rate. They are—to her—both women who possess neither aptitude for martial arts nor extraordinary features like Zard. What chance of getting out of here could they get?

 She hated the prejudice she laid against women. Though she may sound like a female sexist, she had to cling to their reality. In times of uncertainty like this instance, she resorted to praying to God for both of their safety. If angels could arrive to rescue them by just a simple request, she would have also prayed so. 

 They couldn’t exactly estimate how long they’ve been imprisoned inside, yet their bodies told them that they certainly needed to eat. They weren’t certain if it’s the norm for the abductors to starve the kidnapped; more than that nevertheless, they yearned more to get out of here.

 “Help! Help!” Sister Lita suddenly started shouting. “My daughter! She’s convulsing!”

 Noumenon behind her was, of course, doing fine; it didn’t require much contemplation for her to realize this plot of her adoptive mother. Whatever will succeed this initiative of hers, she trusted her.

 The extern sister glanced at her, and signaled her to be alert.

 Blag! Blag! Blag! She banged repeatedly at the door.

 “Please, help us! Help my daughter! Have mercy! Please! I beg you!”

 Blag! Blag! Blag!

 “I beg you! Please help us!” This was what the two built men heard at the door of the room they were tasked to watch over. At the left of the frame was someone tall with a moustache like Freddie Mercury, and on his opposite was someone leaner with a shaved head. Both of them wore a black suit.

 They had expected a clamor like this; at the back of their minds, they’ll probably get caught with an old trick in the book. Initially, they thought to leave it alone since they were instructed not to open the door until the evening.

 “Help! Anyone out there, please! My daughter is dying!” 

 They chose to remain unfazed. As far as they know, none of the two women inside suffered from fatal injuries.

 It was that until something made them change their mind.

 “Aaaaaaaaaaaah!”

 It may have been probably the shrillest cry they’ve heard in their many years of working for Manica Diamond. They looked at each other. The one with the shaved head scrambled to twist the key inside the keyhole. 

 As the door was opened, the extern sister squatted near the novice lying on her back to the floor. Cautious, they held Sister Lita at gunpoint while Noumenon appeared unconscious. 

 “What happened to her?” The guy with moustache looked at Sister Lita and asked. 

 There were tears in her eyes. “It’s her usual seizures. I couldn’t do anything.”

 The other man assessed the scene and sat down to check her pulse. “She’s still breathing. We should do something about this.”

 His co-worker raised his brow. “What do you suggest we do? We can’t take her out of the room. The boss specifically told us.”

 The man with a moustache agreed. “I think—”

 “Oh, no,” Sister Lita interrupted. Her tears were no more, and the two guys were confused. “We don’t need you to get out of here.”

 Pak!

 Out of the blue, she slammed her palm on the forehead of the guy with the shaved head. Her eyes turned gray as she uttered something. The man then collapsed.

 Startled, his companion returned the extern sister to gunpoint. It was crazy, but he wasn’t informed that one of the two women was unusual like Pyrus and Zard.

 “Stay there!” He warned. “I know your kind, but I’m not afraid of you.”

 Unresponsive, she only stared at him. That was then when Noumenon opened her eyes and got up. Distracted by this, the man with a moustache abruptly directed his eyes to her. In this abruptness, nonetheless, Sister Lita had the chance to grasp the back of his head.

 “Forget about why you’re guarding us,” with gray-colored eyes, she whispered to his ear. The man fell on the floor unmoving.

 Noumenon’s eyes widened; firstly, in awe and secondly, in bewilderment towards what her adoptive mother just showed her. 

 “Ma, how did you do that?” she asked.

 Instead of replying, the extern sister grabbed her wrist and off they went out of the room.

 Deciding not to pry for now, Noumenon chose to leave that question unanswered for later.

 They finally got out of the room and was embraced by the image of the cluster of different Philippine trees after a maintained green lawn at the back of what looked to them a huge house.

 Oddly, there were no other people around; also, there wasn’t a clear path where to get out of the place.

 Sister Lita gripped Noumenon’s hand more tightly. Here, after all, is familiar to her. She felt that she had come here before.

 Noumenon, on the other hand, frantically looked around them. She did so until her peripheral vision caught something. It was a boy standing not far from where they were. Her adoptive mother then sensed his presence, and she couldn’t be more stunned.

 “Gravis,” she said.

 At that point, the novice figured that that may be the name of the boy who seemed to be in his teenage years with curly hair tied in a ponytail. His eyes are black—the same hue with his sweater. And he wore a downright bored expression on his face.