grey ii.

This story takes place a few months after grey.

In that time, our protagonist  has come across information that the powerful didn't want anyone to know. She has been on the run since.  

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“You're going to have to listen to my instructions”

She looked up at the woman talking to her. The last thing she remembered was jumping out the side of a freight train when the inspectors discovered her hiding spot. It wasn't moving fast when she had leapt, but the ground below was not welcoming. She knew she must have came to eventually and started walking... but this wasn't where she had landed. She'd been found by someone.

The woman was still talking.

“The only reason we are helping you is because Meer can vouch for you. Because he knows you were the one to get the intel about the nurses... and that's pretty much the only way this thing can operate. But. Do not take advantage of us. If it were me, you'd be back out there until you had the proper money to pay and were willing to undergo interrogation. This ain't some charity service.”

She was in a haze, just blindly following this woman through an old scrapyard in the middle of the daytime. Who was she? How does she know Meer? And fuck, how does she know it was her that got that intel? Had Meer sold her out? What was she walking into?

It's like all these thoughts were rushing through her head... but down a very very tall well. They were echoing away but too far from reach. All her brain could process right now was “Follow woman. Keep walking.” Everything else would be too overwhelming.

Suddenly the woman stopped and turned to her.

“How long can you hold your breath for?”

“Um... a couple of seconds I guess?”

“That'll do. Come.”

She looked down. They were standing at the top of a canal lock. The woman pushed her toward the metal rungs that worked their way down into the water.

“Head down, and I'll get you to where you need to be.”

She lowered herself down onto the first rung and made her way down. The water looked disgusting and toxic.

“Why are we going down here?” It was the first question her brain had managed to process from thought to words.

“The higher ups already think we're pond scum, so why not lean into it?”

She reached the water. “Now what?”

“Ok. I'm going to push you under the water. I'll come in after and lead you to where you need to be. I will count to three...”

One.

She didn't have time to process this.

Two.

Deep breath in and pinch your nose.

Three.

Eyes shut and down we go.

She could feel the woman's body beside her, then grab her hand. She was being pulled down, and then along some kind of tunnel. She felt heavy. She felt her lungs start to burn up. She couldn't make it she was going to drown she can't die here in this darkness where is the light where is the

Breathe. They had made it up into a pocket of air. The woman pointed up.

“Grab onto that ladder and we'll get you inside. I'll give you a boost up. Ready? Go.”

She was exhausted. She begged to whoever was listening that it wasn't much further from here. Every part of her ached. This pain had probably been there since she left the train, but it was like her head was finally letting her feel it.

Finally, she reached the top and collapsed.

“Is this our special guest?” a voice boomed from above.

“This is her.”

“This is not gonna be an easy job. I mean, look at her.”

“I know, I know, but Meer... Meer says we have to help her. And we kind of owe her one.”

The other voice sighed. “She ain't paying though. And she's gonna suck us dry of a lot of resources.”

“Resources she got for us with that intel. If she hadn't found out about the nurses stealing stockpile medication or offering help...”

“Fine, fine. I'll fast track her recovery so she isn't here long. We've got a bunch of folks scheduled for the next trip in seven days. We'll get her out with them.”

“Is that enough time? Will they let her in?”

“Zeeah. It's me. I'm a master of my art. Get the apprentices to take on some more of my other casework and I'll get her to an acceptable level. But no more. She's not income generating.”

“Got it. Here, help me get her onto your workbench will you?”

She could feel herself being lifted up and carried. She could see a massive cavern filled with medical tents, piles of food, and lights coming from the smaller tunnels all around them. They kind of looked like stars if you squinted hard enough. The constellations were cut off as they entered a tent, and she was put onto a cold metal table.

“How long have you been unable to contribute to society?”

She blinked her eyes and looked toward the man holding a clipboard.

“She's exhausted maybe we shoul-”

“She's on the fast-track Zeeah. We need to get this over and done with quickly.”

He turned back to her. “How long?”

She tried to focus her mind. It was swirling and it was hard to even think about anything other than what was happening right now but... this guy did not seem happy. Appeasing him might keep her out of danger.

“About three and a half years. The grey has always come and gone in small patches, but it completely took over at that point. From then it's become harder to hide it.”

“Okay. Not the worst case we've seen. We can handle this.”

He went over to a workbench and started writing down notes. He turned to the woman. “Z, what do you think? Up or down on the weight?”

The woman looked at her.

“I'd say up but with definitely supported with a little muscle gain.”

It wasn't until she was hyper aware of her body being looked at that she realised she had no idea what she looked like. She'd been on the run for months, sleeping rough, constantly travelling, finding small rivers or lakes hidden away in the forest to quickly wash in. She'd kept away from civilisation, had no gawking eyes to judge how she looked, no people around to tell her what they saw.

She thought back to the bathtub, how she was so obsessed with how her body looked, how the grey had seeped across it, the desperate screaming in her brain to focus, focus on the red on her nails, to keep the darkness away.

She looked down at her hands. She could see blue veins under the surface of her skin, red blood on her knuckles, the pink and white in her nails, with dirt gathering under them. It was the first time in months she had acknowledged being in her own body, and what that was, and what that meant.

She looked up to see the man coming toward her with a hypodermic needle. And something inside her snapped.

It was like tuning a guitar. Over the last few days, hours, minutes, each thing had added more pressure onto her, the string. Pulling at the peg, making it tighter. The fall from the freight train. Blacking out. Waking up to find herself at the mercy of some stranger. The long journey here and the exhaustion in her body. The lack of food, water, rest. Being talked about like she wasn't in the room. Tighter, tighter, tighter.

She grabbed the needle from his hand and shoved it against his neck.

“Tell me what the hell is going on here before this needle goes into his jugular.”

The woman sighed and put her hand to her head.

“For fucks sake, someone's woke up. Look, seriously, get that away from him, we're here to help”

“Why should I believe you? Because you know Meer? That means nothing. Him and I have always looked after ourselves first. He'd be ashamed if I ended up in harms way just because somebody said they knew him." She gripped the mans hair. "What is this place? What are you trying to do to me?”

The woman stepped closer.

“The man you've currently got a needle to the neck to is trying to save your life. So maybe be a little bit nicer, he's been through enough just to get here...”

The man let out a dry laugh.

“If those people out there could see what you're doing to me, there'd be a riot. And you wouldn't make it out alive girly."

She dug the needle closer into his skin.

The woman's eyes flashed with a hint of panic. She spoke up.

“Look, the operation we are running here is going to help you. So please, listen. This country is becoming more and more dangerous for people who are afflicted with grey. The government sees them as economic drains and is using the media to push them into... well. You've probably seen more and more bodies on the streets. They've realised it's easier for them to be done with us, rather than to cure us so we can contribute to society. They just want the cream of the crop so that they can become wealthier and wealthier...”

She let go of  his hair and slammed her fist against the table.

“You're saying all this like I don't know this. Don't be patronising. Tell me what is happening. It was a simple question.” she growled. 

“Okay, okay, sorry. The place you are in is an operation to help people with grey. There are more sympathetic countries who have better systems in place to help those who aren't as economically valuable. And they have lower points thresholds for who they'll accept into their country. So we help 'cure' people enough so that they have an acceptable enough appearance, fake a couple documents, and ship them off to the borders. There they can start a new life.”

She let out a deep breath, one that had been caught tight in her chest, filled with rage and anger, and removed the needle from his neck. They were trying to do good here. They were trying to do something at least.

The woman continued.

“We were a tiny operation, could only help a couple of people at a time. Then, when you leaked the information about the prescription pads, the spare drugs, the host of remedies, the nurses willing to help... well, we got the likes of Adaiyre here. He was looking for an escape from helping the already privileged and left. He faked that he started a whole new life in St Lucia.”

He turned to face her.

“It's true. I've even got a team who do my socials for me, and photoshop me on various beaches. It's hilarious.”

The woman sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Sadly, that's true. Anyway. What we know is that right now you need our help. You are wanted by the government here. They don't know what is being done with the information you found, but they know that it's dangerous. You need to be fixed up, sharpish. You need a new identity. And you need to get the hell out of here. We can help with that. Just stay, and complete every single instruction we ask of you, okay?”

She had no other option. Every choice, every decision she had made over the last few months had lead her here. She found that intel. She shared it to those that might help. And for that, her life was in danger. But looking around, she could see that it was actually able to make radical changes to people's lives.

Her life was her own but she had to accept that sometimes other people knew better. She had to let go and let them give her the best chance at a fresh start. She'd done everything she could to fix things here. Maybe it was time to try and fight for herself.

She jumped off the table and looked up at the woman.

“Okay. Tell me what I need to do.”