The Burning Land

The Escape

Kobus’ mind was turning the second Hobhouse left. Of course, he had a plan to escape. His plan was simple: Sneak out in the dead of night , cut the fences and return with the husbands of some of the women prisoners in this camp, and personally exact his revenge on captain Luck. Maybe he’d get lucky and get to kill some of the camp guards traveling both ways. The plans are the simple ones.

The English had left him in a bed, tied down with nothing but a short length of hemp rope. They hadn’t even bothered undressing him. Teeth made tough on the rough farms of the Free State made short work of the bindings. The medical tent was silent, the patients all asleep, drugged, or dead. He barely even had to sneak out at all. No one was aware enough to hear him.

He looked about the dark canvas town built around him. Heavy canvas tents were set up in a grid-like pattern within the boundaries of the wire fence so that guards would have easy firing lines upon the women and children in case they should ever feel unhappy. He wandered in a random direction through the rows of occupied tents, hearing muted conversation and muffled crying as he passed by. he wished he could save these people, his people, now, but he knew he’d stand no chance. He swore to return yet again as he neared the final few hovels before he could make his bid for freedom.

All was going according to plan until he got to the line of tents that stood next to the perimeter fence. He’d seen no guards, no souls at all. But it made sense for the English to be at the borders of their own death machine. The only crawl space under the fence just had to be where a pair of guards were posted. Kodus swore under his breath and began backing away into the deep shadows, ready to try somewhere else. But then, by some divine intervention: one of the men before him had forgotten his pipe back at his tent.

The forgetful englishman said his goodbyes to his comrade and turned to walk back towards the barrack tent. As the other turned to face the fence and lit a cigarette, Kobus ran through his options: He could still turn away and make a break somewhere else, but the damn Khaki had his back turned, and would never see it coming. This was his only chance. He retrieved the hidden pocket knife that he kept in his boot and crept up to his prey. Kobus snuck to within a few feet of the oblivious soldier, and then lunged the blade for the man’s throat.

Fortune, though, was not with Kobus. The other guard returned “Hey Richard, can I have one of... SHIT look out!” the other man swung his rifle from his shoulder and brought it to bare on his target, and pulled the trigger. Kobus kept pushing forward, bound to take at least one English bastard with him.

Before Kobus’ knife could reach it’s mark in the man’s throat, though, it simply stopped dead, and the rifle’s crack he heard at that moment ended with no sharp pain of a bullet.. He looked at his knife, then at the projectile intended for him, both shrouded in a strange silver light, stopped dead in time. The light that shone from the tools of war, though, paled in comparison to her.

She was undoubtedly a lady, but definitely not human. Swathed in white, her large glowing eyes looked down at the three men in pity. No, not all of them: at Jakobus himself. He was frozen under her gaze, trying to understand what she was. An angel? She had no wings; she did not even have hands as far as he could see, mere opaquely shining and indistinct limbs. Atop her head, pulsing gently and casting a halo about her head, sat a horn, its root buried in flowing silver hair at ran all the way down her neck, and waved behind her entire length. In the glare, Kobus could make out no details, his mind processing nothing but sheer awe. Grief and shame seemed to radiate from her, infecting Kobus’ own heart. He felt regret.  And she looked at him, lowering to the ground...and onto all fours. Kobus’ paralysis was broken when her eyeline dropped below His, and he found himself looking only at a creature powerful enough to literally stop a bullet at a thought. And he was terrified.

He realised the only logical course of action... RUN! He kicked up the soldiers fallen rifle - british but better than nothing - and ran for the edge of the camp. He heaved mighty breaths as he looked for a way to get over the large fence, away from the british and that...creature. His previous escape hole now blocked by her otherworldly presence, he scanned the long shrouds of wire rapidly, but no openings presented themselves. He despaired, glancing back at the previously lit-up scene, only to see the dark of the night.

A low whistling sound flew through the cool night air. Kobus spun to face the new threat, his breathing more and more ragged, and pointed the unfamiliar rifle at the shadows. A nebulous aura of pure midnight sky appeared and sailed through the fence right next to him, cutting it open without a sound. He heard something, a voice,  in the back of his mind:

‘go now, run’

Kobus didn’t need a second bidding. He dove through the fence and ran for all he was worth. After about five minutes of sprinting he saw a suitable bush to hide in and promptly dove into it. not giving a damn about thorns or any other dangers. After gaining control over his breathing, he waited, for his doom or his salvation he did not know. He looked back at the camp, searching. The entire area was lit with the torches of the awakened british forces, weaving about in blind panic between the tents of their own construction. He did not care for them though, for he looked up to a hillock with the fence, and saw, standing silhouetted against the milling flames, two tall ladies, one in white, and one in midnight blue.