city of anarchy

chapter two

'Target located,' Agent Sofia whispered into the special watch around her wrist. 'I am now approaching the target with utmost professional caution. Target has not yet noticed me, for I am stealthy yet quick, and melt into the shadows like dark butter.'

She tiptoed towards the door and stood with her back to the wall. She peered around the doorframe. Then she saw it: a tall and perfectly rounded bush of tightly-curled black hair, clearly visible above the back of the sofa. It stayed there, unmoving.

Then a telephone rang. The bush of hair turned, revealing a face, which gasped as it saw Agent Sofia, who hadn't been quick enough to hide herself again. The owner of the tall and perfectly round hair got up out of the sofa and looked around madly for a way out.

Sofia began to approach her, inching forward and assuming a combative stance. She attempted a kick. Her target ducked with a yelp and Sofia's foot impacted with the hair, making a noise like leaves. The girl then made successfully for the door.

'Target Turnfly has escaped!' Sofia shouted into her watch. 'I shall pursue her at once!'

Turnfly ran determinedly through rooms and down short corridors, her afro brushing against numerous doorframes. Sofia was never far behind. It wasn't long before they were out of the building and sprinting down the street.

'Backup!' cried Sofia. 'I require backup immediately!'

Early-morning people watched them with mild amusement, forgetting about them as soon as they were out of sight. Those in the way only caught a glimpse of the approaching hair before they were pushed over or knocked aside.

The street continued on straight ahead, and all that mattered now to Turnfly was that she made her way down it. But when she reached an intersection, she noticed two more people from the roads on either side running towards her. She began to panic. She willed the world to slow down around her so that she could get away. She willed herself to break free from the rules and the boundaries of time and space...

...and the world sped up.

Before long, the Agents caught up.

Turnfly was currently in mid-air, in that stage of running where both feet have left the ground. She appeared to be advancing in extremely slow motion, her body moving forwards mere millimetres per second.

'Well, that's weird,' said Sofia.

* * *

Holly felt something nudge her. She groaned, and it continued to nudge. She opened her eyes and saw that a big, black boot was responsible for these nudgings. It evidently wanted her to get up. Her left arm, which she had been leaning on for the past few hours, ached, and it was with some effort that she dragged herself up to a standing position.

She struggled to focus on the somehow familiar figure before her. She removed the sleepy crusts from her eyes and the image before her resolved.

'Sleep well?' asked the unshaven man. Holly groaned loudly and his lips peeled back into a sneer, revealing many teeth. 'That's the spirit.'

Holly had dark circles under her eyes. She looked around. Pale shafts of light lit the room from small, high-up windows. Several ropes dangled from the ceiling. One was still occupied by her scooter, which was already collecting dust.

'I thought you might be interested to know,' said the man, 'that we've taken in another suspect.'

Holly's expression remained solemn.

'Being such a kind and benevolent Saviour of the Universe, I have decided that as you are no longer of any use to me, you're free to go. Unless, of course, Mr Quirkor tells us that you were acting as an accomplice, in which case we'll drag you back here and have endless fun getting you to admit to it.'

Holly glared at him. She was hoping that if she glared hard enough, his face would catch fire. She wanted to hit him, at any rate. But he was a big, brawny man, and she'd no doubt be squashed under his huge boots before being arrested and tortured all over again.

'So,' he said, 'if you could, you know, move along, we can get Mr Quirkor all settled in.'

Another man appeared, dressed in the customary police black. 'This way,' he said to Holly.

* * *

'I haven't done anything wrong!' moaned Turnfly. 'Leave me be!'

'All we want to do is ask you a few questions,' said Sofia. 'But you have a habit of running away, so we had to take further measures to ensure your full cooperation.'

Turnfly frowned. She was bound to a metallic chair, with a small, similarly metallic table in between her and the Agent, specifically there for Sofia to thump with her fist when she grew impatient.

'I understand you’ve been suffering from a little paranoia,' said Sofia.

Turnfly's eyes darted around the room. 'Who wants to know?' she demanded.

'Well, the mental hospital took a great interest,' Sofia said, conversationally, 'after some close friends admitted you there. They were getting quite worried about you.'

Turnfly shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

'You weren't eating,' continued Sofia, 'you weren't sleeping, you were drinking a little too much, and, according to one friend who found you standing in her wardrobe on a number of occasions, you were, and I quote, "playing hide and seek when nobody else was".'

Turnfly sniffed.

'Until last night, you had been at Goodpatron's under the care of Dr Cabbot. You had been making good progress, according to his reports. But then last night you made a run for it. Am I correct so far?'

The girl remained silent.

'This is what happened next,' said Sofia, unfolding a tabloid newspaper and reading off the page from a short article entitled 'Mental Staff Go Mental'. '"According to the receptionists, a patient in her early twenties was running in the direction of the out-of-service automatic doors and realised too late that they were not going to open. As a result, she collided with the glass."' Sofia glanced at Turnfly before continuing, '"The receptionists claim, however, that there was more to this event than hilarious stupidity. 'She went all slow motion,' says Maggie Brown, forty-three, 'you know, like you see in the films. Like it was special effects or something. I didn't know you could do stuff like that in real life.'

'"There appears to be no evidence that the events described actually took place, other than the statements of the receptionists. When asked if they were feeling alright, Brown declared that the very fact that the glass was still intact proved that it had happened, because otherwise it would have smashed if the girl had not slowed down the way she had done. 'She just bounced off, because of her big hair,' Brown insisted. 'Then she opened the doors and ran away.'

'"This incident has raised serious doubts about the mental states of the hospital staff, prompting the question of whether or not insanity is contagious."'

Sofia folded the paper back up and cast it aside. 'The whole thing was hardly even given a mention in the tabloids,' she said. 'You're lucky Dr Cabbot is as professional as he is, and didn't confirm your existence to the press. Your name is Jella Turnfly, yes?'

Still nothing.

Sofia gripped the sides of the table and leaned forward. 'I don't know how you finally escaped after that blunder,' she said, 'but it is my intention, at Dr Cabbot's request, to make sure that you do not bring yourself to any further harm. It was fortunate that you were to be found at home, the first place anyone would think to look. But you must understand, Turnfly'--she gazed hard at the girl--'we are only here to help you.'

Turnfly turned away.

'I must know how you did what you did, Turnfly,' Sofia said calmly. 'The receptionists might be mad, and who knows, maybe by complete coincidence the lag in the CCTV footage we acquired is due to some glitch in the hardware. But I am not mad, Turnfly, and I saw your clever trick with my own eyes. But I don't like being subject to tricks. You are not going anywhere until you tell me how you did it.'

Turnfly remained unresponsive; Sofia lost patience and thumped the table in frustration.

'Tell me, Turnfly! How did you leave the ground like that? Without anything on your person to aid you? Is it some contrivance hidden in your hair?' She thumped the table again, leaving a generous dent. 'Explain!'

'No!' cried Turnfly.

It was at that moment that the door opened and Agent Avgi entered the room with her hands behind her back, wearing her white labcoat and a frighteningly pleasant expression. 'Is everything alright, Agent Sofia?'

'She's being uncooperative,' said Sofia, glaring at the captive. 'You heard what she did?'

Avgi sighed. 'Yes, I've heard all about it,' she said. 'I see you've almost made your way through another table. That'll be the fifth one this month. This is really going to have to start coming out of your salary. Tables are expensive.'

Sofia made no comment.

'Speaking of necessary purchases,' continued the Agent, 'I went out and bought myself a little treat.'

'Oh?' asked Sofia. 'What did you get?'

Avgi's hands appeared from behind her back. 'A chainsaw.'

* * *

It cut through the huge mass of curls at a dramatic angle, and a large portion of hair tumbled to the floor. Turnfly hadn't stopped screaming since the chain had started moving. Agent Sofia thought that Avgi was having altogether too much fun.

'READY TO TALK?!' Avgi shouted over the noise of the engine.

Turnfly tried to catch her breath, having had it stolen away by utter shock. 'NEVER!' she choked. 'YOU CAN TAKE MY HAIR, BUT YOU WILL NEVER TAKE MY DIGNITY!'

'I DISAGREE,' said Avgi. 'ONCE MY TOPIARY WORK IS COMPLETE, YOU WILL LOOK EXCEEDINGLY COMICAL!'

Turnfly let out a long, painful wail. 'YOU JUST PICK ON ME BECAUSE I'M DIFFERENT!'

The metal chair tipped and fell backwards, hitting the floor with a clang as Snails made an unsuccessful attempt to escape. Avgi stood over her, revving the chainsaw. 'MAKE IT EASY ON YOURSELF, TURNFLY! TELL US HOW YOU DID IT!'

Agent Sofia sighed and examined her nails.

Turnfly began to sob.

'TELL US AND THIS WILL ALL GO AWAY!'

Turnfly's eyes rolled upwards and into the back of her head, seeking a safe and quiet place, but her mind offered no such refuge. 'No it won't,' she whispered. 'No it won't.'

* * *

The man led Holly down a corridor lined with doors, expecting her to keep up with his efficient stride. She did not even try.

As they turned a corner to be met with another stretch of corridor, an escort of three men in black was taking a stumbling figure with his head in a sack in the opposite direction.

Holly stopped and stared. 'Eugene?'

The sack turned and issued a muffled response. His escorts pushed him along.

'Eugene!' Holly cried after him, as her own escort grabbed her by the shoulders and steered her in the right direction. 'I'm sorry!'

She was taken down the rest of the corridor, feeling like she was going to burst into tears, and through a lobby with a floor of black marble.

'Letting her go?' asked one of the officers, holding a heavy glass door open for them.

'Yeah. Brutt says he's done with her.'

Brutt? Commander Brutt? She didn't think her interrogator would have been that high up.

Then she was outside. Another officer wheeled out her scooter. She was free to go.

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