Persuit of the Heart

Into the halogen lit hallway she ran. The pounding of her heart rang in her ears, surpassed only by the quickening sound of footsteps closing in behind her.

The long corridor seemed endless. At any moment she expected to be seized and thrown onto a cot, limbs shackled to the unyielding steel frame. She leapt through the door a second before its emergency lock activated, sealing the exit. Crossing the paved courtyard, she heard the low snarls of trained killer Alsatian dogs. They were nearing fast. To keep her promise, she needed to act quickly.

As dim traces of early morning light glowed above the Barnet fog, she reached the railroad tracks. A train on its way to Camden sped by, just within reach. Grasping a metal handle, she balanced herself on the trains’ exterior ledge; missing the last minute spring of an Alsatian by centimeters. Glaring headlights shined in her face. She flattened against the train, but it was too late. They had seen her and were following. She jumped off, landing on the dirt before St. Pancras Int’l Station. Staggering to her feet, she hurried towards Rochester Square where she and Dan had been kidnapped 20 hours before. Now, she was running for her life; witness to a macabre secret.

Dodging black SUV’s through the streets, she made her way to the private parking garage and stumbled to her car. Getting in, she drove first south then, after assuring herself she wasn’t being followed, steered northwest and later north on A1, in a wide loop. After a 400 kilometer drive, she reached North Yorkshire's meadows.

Beneath the shade of a pomegranate tree, she stepped out of the Vixen; leather shoes on dusty black soil. Breathing a sigh of relief, she felt her lungs warm while the country oxygen enveloped her body. She had made it.

Her long flight had been exhausting. Still, turning to look around she couldn’t help marveling; awestricken at the scenery before her.

Despite her nearly yearlong absence, Scarborough Fair Estate seemed lovelier than she remembered. To the left, an expanse of wheat and vegetable fields, tender and green. On the right, lay orchards of exotic fruit. Between them, the unpaved driveway where she stood was lined with myriad varieties of David Austin’s blooming rosebushes. It wound into the distance, disappearing at Scarborough Hall, an 18th century villa; its courtyard surrounded by shaped plants of parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Gazing at the encompassing beauty, she sensed her tenseness and fear gradually melt away, replaced by a profound feeling of inner peace. An atmosphere of belonging pervaded her being, as if she was part of the meadow breeze, which wafted alluring flavors of nature’s blossoms by. Here, she felt safe.

Moving towards the orchards, she removed her shoes and stockings and sunk her feet into the warm soil. She could see where he had told her to meet him, right past the apple orchard in front of her. A surge of energy pulsed through her veins and she started to run, coursing amid the apple trees. She was nearly there.

Until yesterday’s reunion, she had not seen Dan since the fateful day when she left him on his knees in the courtyard. She had done the unthinkable, for up to that day she would have wanted nothing less than to live forever by his side. He might have even proposed had she accepted his invitation to dine with him. Kneeling among the rosemary and sage, he pleaded with her to come and she would have agreed were it not for another, equally tempting offer.

Earlier that afternoon she had received a letter, inviting her to join one of the worlds’ most prestigious law firms. For some years, she had eked out a living as a small town lawyer. This she thought was her chance to handle the top cases she always dreamed of.

She left Scarborough Fair without looking back, but inside her heart was breaking. Arriving in London the following morning, she nearly forgot to comb her hair. But she started work with high hopes, figuring her scale of fortune would increase after winning a few cases.

Weeks turned into months with little to show for the endless paperwork she was soon buried in. As longer days became lonelier nights, she found herself yearning for the liberating atmosphere of the meadows; longing for the scent of roses in the air, sunsets behind the apple trees. Most of all, she wished she were back in his arms. Then it happened.

So far, it had been just another day at the office. Having finished reading a deposition, she was about to jot some notes when the phone rang. She picked it up.
“Hello,” a voice said. “It’s me Dan.” For a moment, she was speechless.
“Dan, it’s been so long! How are you?”
“Great! You sound wonderful. I’m parked out front, if you can spare yourself…”
“Wait, I’ll be right there.”

Exiting the front entrance, she flew down the steps into his waiting arms. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she embraced him tightly. Gazing into his serene eyes, she could see within their depths an entirely new cosmos, filled with revived opportunities. Only a finger length away from hers, she felt an irresistible urge to kiss his mouth and taste the sweet nectar of a heartfelt primal love. She closed her eyes, reaching for his lips. Only to collapse in his arms.

When she opened her eyes, the first things they beheld were worms crawling from the sunken sockets of a decomposing human head. She felt an aching in her arms and legs and realized she was shackled to a metal cot. Whole and dismembered parts of bodies were piled in cots all around her. Opening her mouth to scream, it filled with the overwhelmingly thick odor of rotting flesh.

Her screams were echoing through the chamber when two masked, black-garbed figures entered. Slowly releasing her shackles, they brought her to a circular room. In the center, ten more identically dressed figures stood beside a cross-shaped wooden bed. Facing them was a man also dressed in black, but without a mask. Looking at his face, her blood froze. It was Dan.

“Dan! Dan!” she shrieked, as they tied her to the bed and placed a silver crown of thorns on her head.

One of the figures stepped towards her, taking off his mask. She recognized the face in an instant. It had appeared many times in the papers and on TV. One of the ten richest men in England, he was a recently knighted advisor to the queen. Here in the Silent Ward however, he was simply Grand Master of the Apostles, the most clandestine secret society in the nation. He turned around.

“You see that dial?” he said to Dan, pointing to the left side of the bed. “Once it is turned, electrodes in the crown will deliver 170 volt shocks two-tenths of a second apart into her brain from a special ECT machine built into the bed. First, stored memories will be erased; then, short-term memory will fail. By the time she takes her last breath, she won’t remember your name. Tell us the location of the Sacred Heart, read the curse and become our thirteenth member!”

“But I only wrote about a metaphor,” Dan pleaded, trying to think. “The Sacred Heart lies within. Look in my book, if you believe in yourself, doing the right things can make your heart's wishes come true.” Dan looked him in the eye, unblinking. "What do you believe in?"

“I believe when you hear her screams, your heart's wish will be to do the right thing and cooperate.” The corners of the man's mouth lifted in a sarcastically sinister smile. “Especially if you’re screaming, too.”

Reaching into the folds of his robe he produced an amber-filled syringe. Stolen from a Silicon Fen bioresearch lab, it contained a synthetic duplicate of the Synanceia Verrucosa toxin. One drop would cause excruciating, incurable pain. The man raised his hand, poised to deliver the lethal dose.

Suddenly, a silver streak flew through the air, landing on his head. While the Apostles’ attention was focused on Dan, she had managed to slide the ropes off the bed, moving first to the left then to the right, freeing herself. Picking up the crown they had placed on her head, she aimed, threw it and turned the dial all the way to the right. The effect was instantaneous.

As the man’s form crumpled to the ground in uncontrollable spasms, she grabbed Dan’s hand and they bolted through the room’s wooden door. Climbing two sets of stone stairs they reached a gray metal door, which she locked.
“I didn’t know you wrote a book,” she said, catching her breath.
“Oh, that was nothing. Wait until I write about the Eternal City,” he replied smiling.
She looked at him quizically. “What are those guys after?”
“The Sacred Heart, a jewel believed to be the other eye in a statue of Sita found by monks who built the Indian temple of Janaki Mandir. Lost on the Titanic, it is said whoever possesses the jewel will have their heart’s greatest desire fulfilled. Because of my book, they think I’ve found it.”
“Have you?”

He looked into her eyes. “I have only one heart and in it, just one desire.” Kneeling in the middle of the hallway, he took her hand.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
The banging on the door was growing louder. Her heart skipped a beat. “Now?”
“It’s now or never.”
She never wanted him more. “Then I’m yours forever,” she replied.

She reached for him, her lips about to touch his when a crash made them turn their heads. The Apostles had burst through the door. Taking to their heels, they passed through several doors; before reaching a horizontal passageway with exit signs on each end. Written in crumbling paint on the wall in front of them were two words above the letters S and W: COLNEY HATCH.

Her hair stood on end. It did exist.

The place they had came from was none other than the Silent Ward, secret core of London’s experimental psychiatric center. For decades, it was only existed in rumors. But this was real. Yet the facility supposedly closed long ago. The realization struck her like a blow. The wards of that notorious asylum were closed; all but one, which functioned as the Apostles’ underground lair. Though they had changed the name of the buildings above, its function remained the same. To gather the chosen for sacrifice below.

Dan turned to her. She could tell what he was thinking before he spoke. "No, I'm not leaving you!" Reaching out, he held her body in his hands. “If we split up, they split too." She knew, he was right. "I’ll take the right, you take the left and we’ll meet at the heart. Promise me you’ll be there.”

Their eyes locked for an instant.
“I promise,” she said.
Then she ran.

Breathless, she emerged from the apple orchard. In front of her rose the Den, an ancient country cottage. Once home to past generations, its crumbling walls stood as a fading memory of forgotten times. A few meters from the door grew a lone sorbapple tree. In its side, Dan had carved a heart in the bark. Their heart.

Approaching, she ran her fingers in the groove. It felt like there was a gap between, as if the carving was separate from the tree. Using a twig, she pried the bark free. Concealed several centimeters into the trunk was a cavity and in it, a smooth pink marble box. Hands trembling, she lifted the box and removed the lid. A massive cerulean diamond shone before her eyes, its lustrous facets forming a heart shape.

The sacred heart lies within.
She wished Dan were there, to be part of the wonder she felt.

From the orchard, came the soft sound of familiar footsteps. Sliding the box back in the hollow, she grasped a cluster of sorbapples and eased one of the brown fruit past her lips; savoring its buttery, cappuccino flavor. He’d be arriving any moment now.

Offering him a sorbapple, he would taste it then take her in his arms. And she would kiss him under rainbow hues of a setting sun.


Persuit of the Heart Copyright Xean.