© 2015 D.L.

The rain water slowly dripped down from the rafter onto the black bin liner covering the child curled up underneath. The thin plastic sheet proviing a waterproof shield, keeping the occupant of the abanonded barn dry. Macie was tucked as tight into the corner as she could manage.

It would have been drier against the other wall, where the roof wasn't leaking as much. However, that would have positioned the youngster in the direct path of the cold night wind coming in through the exposed hole in the wall where a access door would have once been hung. It had been a challenge to climb up eight feet into the opening. However, the wall was not vertical. The wall tapered towards the top. The soft cement holding the cobble and flint together was not enough to resist the subsidence that exagerated the lean. The rough surface providing just enough protrusions for climbing.

Macie shivered under the winter coat. "At least the clouds trap the heat so it isn't frosty," she thought to herself as she pulled her legs closer to her body, wrapping her skirt tighter around her legs.

Usually the gentle rythmic sound of the rain would have been enough to send the exhausted child to sleep. Stress induced insomnia prevented that from occuring.

Hitting the button on the side of the digital watch caused the display to light up. 21:52 shone out in the darkness. The rainclouds where obsuring the moon, so the barn was almost pitch black. A wind up torch sat within reach, but was currently switched off. The only other source of elumination came from the occasional headlights of passsing vehicles on the country lane a few hundred yards across the field.

Macie had deliberately stayed close to the entrance, so that she could see anybody approaching from the closest access point, but far enough inside that hopefully the thermal camera on the police helecopter would not be able to pick out her body heat. Although in her chilled state she did wonder how well she would show up anyway, not that she thought they would be flying in this weather.

A gust of wind signalled the start of a heavier burst of rain. The cold night air sent a shiver down the childs spine. Macie had considered starting a fire, but that would have been difficult and dangerous. The damp conditions would prevent collection of suitable firewood. Also the barn, while mostly stone, did contain wood in its construction. At least it was a slate roof, not thatch. The upper floor, on which the child sat, was wood. She would need to get into the bottom of the barn to light a fire, and the ladder on the inside of the building was missing. Dropping down to the floor below, which could have been done safely while it was still light, would most likely have been a one way trip, trapping her in the boarded up building.

The other reason why a fire would have been dangerious is that she was trying to hide. A fire would attract unwanted attention, especially to the dreaded thermal camera she had seen featured on many a police chase show.

Macie had to admit that her plan wasn't exactly well thought through. Leaving home with nowhere to go was only one of a series of bad choices that she felt she had made. At least she had the forethought to read up on outdoor survival before leaving.

The first bad decision had been to trust Silvia Blakeney. She had been warned that she could be bitchy when she wanted, but had never seen that side of Silvia first hand. It was only aftwards that she realised she was being strung along for Silvia's amusement. In retrospect, Macie could see that she was being overly optimistic. However, the supposed freindship had served a useful purpose. Silvia had provided the clothes currently being worn. The first skirt, tights and bra the child had owned.

Unfortunately, Silvia hadn't kept the cross-dressing secret, and instead openly made fun of Macie. This led to a fight with several of the other students, which in turn led to the teachers becoming involved. Despite claiming to be sypaphetic, Macie didn't feel that her encounters with the school staff were benefitial. Her parents were called, which then resulted in arguments at home.

Macie knew the risks, but hadn't expected the situation to esculate so badly. Deeply hurt and angry, she had packed her bags that night, and had done a runner the following morning. It was a saturday, and she was due to go to swimming club. Her parents hadn't though anything of her walking out the door with a rucksack on her back. It would have been several hours before they noticed her gone.

The child was still sore from the hike. Sheer determination had made her walk as far as possibly, covering nearly 40 miles in the space of twelve hours, before the darkness had forced a stop in some woodland. From there, a further ten mile walk the next day had found the barn. Along the way, while passing a town, she was able to call at a small store and stock up on some groceries with the little amount of funds available. After scouting the surrounding area, Macie had decieded the barn was ideal as a base of operations, until she could find better.

The floor was hard and uncomfortable, and her arm was going numb from laying on it. Macie was starting to wonder if she would even survive the night, and was not even sure if she wanted to carry on. Hypothermia was a real danger. If only she could fall asleep.

Reaching out, the child felt around and grabbed the emergency light. It was a wind up torch with a built in radio. It could act as a usb charger, something that had proven handy to keep her phone operating. The GPS and mapping app had proven priceless. Realising the possibility of being tracked, the SIM card had been removed and was tucked into a credit card slot in the hard protective case in which the phone resided.

After putting in the earphone, Macie switched on the radio and tuned in to the local channel. She hoped they would play something relaxing. Having listened to the show before, Macie knew they focused on older tunes.

"The search for a local boy who disappeared last saturday is still ongoing. Police are asking for anybody with information about the missing boy contact them on the non-emergency number, 101. Alternatively, you can contact us," the newsreader declared, reading out the station phone number, "and we will pass the information on. Mark Jones was last seen heading west along Market Lane."

Macie felt strange hearing herself mentioned on the radio. It seems that the last sighting was close to home, which was a good sign. It had been expected, as it was the last CCTV camera she had knowingly passed. Shortly afterwards she had slipped into a patch of woodland and changed clothes, also donning the cheap wig that still covered her head, providing an extra bit of warmth against the night air.

Macie's anger flared at the sound of her mother making a plea for her to come home. The press conference had been recorded earlier and this was the first time Macie had chance to hear it. The annoyance came mainly from the fact that her mother was stating she didn't know why Mark had run away, when in truth, their last argument had made the reason clear. Her mother seemed more concerned in keeping things quiet, ignoring the root cause of the problem.

The child was about to turn the radio off in disgust when the newsreader caught her attention.

"In related news, we have learned that a girl descibed as a close friend of the missing boy has been admitted to hospital in what is believed to be a suicide attempt. The girl, who can't be named for legal reasons, was admitted late this afternoon. Doctors have described her condition as serious but stable. She was found after a friend became concerned after talking with the girl online. The girl, who attends the same school as Mark, blames herself for the boy's disappearance, and has made several posts online begging for forgiveness. Police haven't released information as to her connection to events leading up to Mark going missing. Police don't believe the boy has been kidnapped, but are not ruling out that posibility."

Macie was shocked. She hadn't expected to hear of somebody taking the news of her disappearance so badly. If it had been a family member, then she would have understood, but a schoolfriend? That was suprising. There was only one person who fitted the bill: Silvia.

The newsreader finished reading the weather and handed the broadcast back over to the main host.

"I'm guessing there is a lot more going on here than what has currently been revealed," the presenter commented. "I don't claim to know what the reasons are, and I'm not going to trivalise them by accusing anybody of overreacting. However, I do find it very sad that these teens should feel such drastic acions are the only solution to their problems. Now, I understand that speaking to a family member may not be a possibilty, especially as I get the impression that tensions at home may have been a contributing factor. However, speaking to a teacher, or other sympathetic adult, might have been a possibility. If not there is always Childline or the Samaratines."

Macie scoffed at the idea of speaking to her teachers. They had done nothing to help her when things kicked off at school. They were all too quick to wash their hands of the debacle. Nobody had said it directly, but the inference was that the child had brought the problems on himself. At least that was the way Macie interpretted the situation.

"Mark, if you are listening, please make contact. I know it's a long shot that you can hear me," Graham, the presenter, spoke, "I know you often listen to this station, although probably not at this time of night. Mark is actually one of the lucky few kids who have recieved a cool ride to school thanks to our breakfast show. It was about two years ago."

Macie smiled at the fond memory. It had been a cool surprise arranged by her late grandmother. She had been suffering depression at the time. Macie was having a hard time fitting in, and her grandmother had thought it might help raise her popularity with the other kids.

It had been a fun journey in a luxury car, taking the scenic route around town for half an hour before arriving just as school started. It had brought some attention to her, and the bully's backed off for a little while.

It hadn't lasted. The snide comments returned the following week. The disconnect between body and soul wasn't pronounced, but the other boys had started to notice subtle mannerisms that singled him out as being more feminine in behaviour. It wasn't until later that Macie realised exactly why she didn't fit in.

"Mark," the radio once again attracting her attention, " I know it must seem that the world is against you, but never lose hope. You are never alone. There is always somebody else facing similar problems. There are people out there who care. I don't know what your relationship is with the girl in the hospital, but the fact that she is so depressed over your disappearance means she must care."

Macie shook her head. She was finding it hard to accept that Silvia felt guilty. The calous way she had outted him and had fun doing it was in stark contrast to the circumstances being described.

"I say this not only to Mark, but to anybody else out there who has lost hope or who is without anywhere to go. The is always a safe haven, you just need to know how to find it. I speak from experience. Before I made it to the top of the charts, I was a jobless loser, unable to hold employment, busking to earn enough to live. I even spent a few weeks living in an old beat up Ford Cortina. It took a beating from my cousin while I was high on some very questionable substances before I realised I needed help."

There was a long pause. Dead air, a rarety on most radio stations, before the disc jockey continued, "You don't have to go home. You don't even need to speak to your family. Just make contact, either with the police, or even call us here at the station. You don't have to suffer alone."

The solumn mood was suddenly broken by the distict opening beats of 'Never gonna give you up' by Rick Astley. Macie couldn't help but laugh. It was probably the most inappropriate song that could be played, but at the same time the message in the chorus was oddly fitting.

~o~O~o~

John ejected his laptop from its docking station and slipped it into his rucksack. Having just finished reading the last news bulletin for the night, he was ready to head home. He waved to Graham through the glass partiton of the sound studio. He was at his desk in the main office. The open plan space had desks for over a dozen people, and was surrounded by three different sound sudios used while presenting. He had just emerged from the smallest of the three, used for reading the news and weather.

The only other person in the building, Jaquie, was sitting across the room. John was about to head out the door when he heard her call, "Oh shit, wait up."

John turned to see the middle aged women looking distinctly shocked. Graham, watching his companions through the window, saw Jackie jump back and turn white. After queing up 'We Built This City' by Starship, he poked his head out the door.

"I think Mark has just made contact," Jaquie stated, regaining her composure. The two men dashed across to see what the woman was pointing at on her monitor.

A single line of text had popped up into the inbox of the text messaging system. "Tell Silvia I forgive her. Can't believe I've just been rick-rolled - M. P.S. Play me something to help me keep warm." By itself, it might have been overlooked. The fact it also popped up on the Twitter feed is what caused the commotion.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, John flicked through to look at his own copy of the Twitter app. "It's got to be him, unless his account has been hacked."

Graham grabbed a post-it note and a pen and scribbled down the phone number the text had come from, "Get on the phone to the police. They should be able to find out the location of the phone from the mobile network. I'm going to try something Risky."

John threw his coat over a chair and pulled his laptop back out as Jaquie dialed the police.

~o~O~o~

"Something amazing has just happened," Graham's distintive voice cut in at the end of the song. "We think we may have just received a text message from the missing boy, Mark Jones. Mark, I'm now texting you back from my own private phone. I want you to speak to me, either on or off air. If I have to run non-stop songs for the rest of the night, I'll do so."

Macie looked at the sillouete of the phone in her hands, illumintated from the dim light from the controls on the radio. She had switched it on just long enough to hit Silvia's Twitter feed before sending the text message to the station, copying it to her own Twitter and forwarding it to Silvia. As 'We Didn't Start The Fire' came to an end she turned the phone back on. As soon as she hit the button to dial the radio presenter was interupted by the sound of a rining phone. Pulling one of her earphones out so she could hear both the radio and the phone, she raised the device to her ear.

"Excuse me one moment," Graham stated to the audience before setting the next song playing. Answering the phone he asked, "Hello, Mark?"

"What's the matter, afriad I might swear on air?" Macie nerviously enquired.

"I'm more worried about being hoaxed," Graham answered, "The are some very sick people out there. We are also not far off from the pub closing time, and you wouldn't believe some of the late night drunk calls we get here."

"You want me to prove who I am, I understand that. I'm Mark Nigel Jones, birthday fifth of September, and I live at--".

Graham listened to the person on the phone. It wasn't so much what he was saying that convinced him. Few people would have known all the details being given, some of which he had no means to verify. The press had been given a few peices of information that were not to be made public for the specific reason of verifying identity should the child choose to make contact with the media. Given that the child was known to be a loyal listener of the station, they had been given extra information specifically for if the boy chose to make contact with them.

It was shakyness in the voice due to the cold and the background sound of falling rain and wind that sent a chill down the man's spine. Graham had been involved in prank calls before, on both sides of the equation. Most people wouldn't think to fake the background noises. The cold induced stutter would also be hard to fake.

Looking at the computer monitor in front of him, he switched to the weather feed. Rain was falling over around half of the county, which wouldn't help narrow down the location of the child. The main concern was the temperature charts. Some places, away from urban areas, were registering only five degrees centigrade, and the temparature was likely drop further. The rain was due to stop in the early hours of the morning, and it would only take a single degree drop in temperature for ice to start to form.

While a lot of people associate zero as being the point where ice forms, Graham was aware that ice can start to form at higher temperatures, even it doesn't become solid until it cools further.

Graham had turned his headphones up as high as he could, listening for any clue to the childs location. The lack of distinguishing sounds was telling by itself. The only sound being of the rain was the only thing noticible. The child paused and shuffled, causing the plastic sheeting to rustle.

I message poped up on the computer screen. "Police on line and tracking, keep him talking."

Graham replied with a thumbs up to the woman in the outer office.

The track was only around thirty seconds from ending when Graham asked, "So, do I queue another track, or would you like to go on air? I don't know if you want to talk in private, or if you have a message for broadcast."

"I'm past caring, either way," came the answer. "I promise not to swear or hang up if you do."

The song came to an end leaving dead air. Macie paused wondering what was about to happen when she heard the voice of the presenter coming to her both over the phone and from the earphone of the radio.

"So Mark, tell us bit about yourself. I'm sure a lot of people are curious why you have disappeared. I am certainly interested in the reason."

"Yeah, well," Macie slowly replied, "despite the news reports and the pathetic performance by my mother earlier, my friends and family know exactly why I'm upset. They seem to be keeping the reason a secret from the media. I'm obviously an embarressment to them."

"Are you saying that your mother's appeal wasn't genuine? She sounded worried to me," Graham cautiosly stated, not wanting to upset or contradict the child.

"Worried about what the neighbours might think," Macie snorted. "I have yet to hear the one word form her that would possibly make me change my mind and come home."

"Sorry is the hardest word," Graham made a guess, knowing there was likely an argument involved.

A faint laugh came down the line, followed by a coughing fit. "Well, that would be a nice thing to hear as well, but that isn't the word I'm after."

John and Jackie exchanged worried glances as the youngster started to cough again. The child did not sound healthy. Outside at night in the rain at temperates not far from freezing was not a good position to be in. Pnemonia was a distinct possibility.

The newsreader called up the notes he had made earlier in the day after interviewing one of the fellow students. Quickly he forwarded the file to Graham. The read receipt poped up a couple of seconds later, indicating the message had been opened. The thumbs up through the window confirming the email was being read.

"John, our newsreader, has just forwarded me something interesting," Graham stated, "you are right, there is more information here than what we have broadcast. From what I am reading here, I don't think it was withheld to save your parents embarressment. I think it may have been to protect you. I have a description of an incident Friday morning at your school, given by David O'Donnell."

As Graham read the name out a high pitched beep was transmitted over the air. The only person hearing the name being Macie.

"I can imagine what a troglodite neandathall like him would have said," Macie replied, "It takes words of more than one sylible to explain my problem. The language he and his freinds were using about be on Friday are not transmittable, not even at this time of evening."

"Its well past the watershed, I don't think we will get too many complaints if the odd f-word slips into the conversation. If anybody is listening who may be offended, consider yourself warned." Graham was taking a risk, but it was late enough that he didn't have to worry about maintaining a family friendly transmission.

"Well, 'faggot' was certainly used several times on Friday," Macie replied, "and I can see why you wouldn't want to say anything that may infer something about my sexuality."

"We are always careful when approaching personal details. I may be slightly biased as I work in an industry that seems to attract an above average number of homosexuals. I'm not sure that is truely the case, but the entertainment industry certainly has that reputation. It is certainly more acceptable than it used to be, or at least more tollerated. I went to school in the late seventies, early eighties where accusations of homosexuality were used as common insults and nobody would dare admit to such a thing, even if it were the case. Such insinuations can be hurtful no matter what your orientation, either being uncomfortable being labeled something you are not, or making a hostile environment if you did want to come out. If you are not looking for appoligies from your parents or friends, I assume some form of acceptance?"

"They won't take me seriously," Macie whispered, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Who wont?"

"Mum and Dad."

"I think it is safe to say that you have made your point by running away."

"It would have taken just one word in her appeal to prove that, but she didn't use it."

"What did your mother need to say? She seemed upset and may not have been thinking straight and missed something."

"Macie."

"Who's Macie?" Graham asked softly.

"I am, I'm transgender, not that anybody care's or takes me seriously."

"It may seem that way, but there is at least one person that cares. Me!" Graham stated, "and I think a lot of people are going to be taking you seriously now. Your parents may just need time to accept you as their daughter having seen you as a son for so long."

"Time is something I don't think I have anymore," Macie replied in a flat tone.

"Macie! Why do you say that?" The worry was obvious in the presenters voice.

"I don't think it'll be long now, I'm not even cold any more. I don't have the energy to shiver, and I've lost feeling down my left side. I don't want to die, but I think I may anyway."

Graham exchanged worried glances with the people watching in the office. The childs voice was failing fast, what had started out at a reasonable volume was now closer to a whisper.

"Macie, please, its not too late, just tell us your location and an ambulance can be with you in minutes," Graham pleaded.

"Fifty two point five nine three seven--." All three people at the radio station immediately grabbed pens and started to scribble down what they assumed to be GPS co-ordinates.

~o~O~o~

"Help is on the way, Macie," Graham stated, "John has just put a message on my screen to say both an ambulance and the police are racing to you. Can you describe exactly where you are?"

Graham waited for a reply, but the only sound was that of the rain. A feeling of dread crept over him.

"Macie, can you hear me?"

Turning the volume up on his headphone he could just make out the sound of shuffling. Coughing and a strange whiring sound broke the silence.

Graham quickly flicked through the track listings on his screen. He needed something to fill the dead air and convey a message of hope. Spotting a song by a relatively unknown artist with the title of "Never Give Up", he took a chance and queued the song to start playing(https://youtu.be/1O7JkEcm-fY).

Jumping from his seat, Graham opened the door and shouted accross to his colleague, "How far out is that ambulance?"

"About six minutes," Jaquie replied. "One of the paramedics is actually listening to us on their phone. How is she doing?"

"She's breathing, I think, it's hard to tell above the rain."

"I've been looking at the co-ordinates on Google Earth," John stated, "We may have a problem. There isn't enough decimal places to get an acurate position. A couple of hundred metres is as close as we are going to get, and that covers several fields."

"Are there any buildings or shelters nearby?" Graham asked. "I think she is using plastic bags for cover, but I don't think she is directly in the rain, as I can hear dripping on plastic in addition to the rain."

"There is at least two buildings and about twenty pig shelters nearby, assuming they haven't been moved since the photo was taken."

"I can't hear any animal noises. Its possible she's in one of the buildings," Graham replied. "I'll queue up another song. As soon as I can hear sirens I'll cut live. We might be able to guide them in by sound."

~o~O~o~

In what seemed like the slowest few minutes of his life, Graham listened to the sound of the falling rain over the still active phone call.

At first he though he was imagining it, as the sound of the siren faintly came through the earpiece.

After aroung half a minute the noise was getting noticable louder. Hitting the button on his control board, he switched the tranmission, cutting the song and once more transmitting the phone call live over the air.

"I can hear sirens approaching," he stated. "I know the guys in the ambulance are listening, if you are hearing the echo of your own siren, you're getting close."

The siren cut out, restarted, cut out again, then started back up again. Graham immediately realised the driver was testing that it was his siren that was being heard.

The sound grew steadily louder as it approached. Graham immediately noticed the sudden change in pitch.

"Stop!" He cried, "Doppler effect, you've just gone past where she is."

~o~O~o~

Slamming the breaks on, Dave brought the ambulance to a stop, selecting reverse he backed up the road a short distance.

Fred jumped out from the passenger seat and scrambled to the nearby gate. The entrance to the field being the only break in the hedge at the edge of the road. Dave did the same for a gate on the other side of the road. Becky opened the back door of the ambulance, but stayed inside, ready to jump out with the medical supplies.

"See anything?" Fred called over.

"Not a thing," Dave replied, "we are going to need some help."

"Macie!," Fred bellowed as loud as he could manage.

"We can hear you in the distance," The voice of Graham came through Fred's earpiece. His phone tuned into the radio station. "Keep shouting, I let you know if you are getting louder."

After relaying the message to Dave, Fred went half way into the closest field and shouted again. The message came over the radio that the shout was further away. Rushing to the other side of the road, the two men ran half way into the field.

"You're getting louder," Graham responded.

"Over there, a light," Dave shouted, spotting a faint glow coming out of a barn in the next field.

Not seeing a way into the next field, the two men ran back to the road and drove the ambulance up to the next gate.

After climbing over the gate Dave and Fred approached the barn.

"Here, give me a boost up," Fred requested. With Dave's help he was able to pull himself up so that his eye level was above the floor level. "She's here, he yelled."

With much effort, Fred pulled himself into the barn. Macie was led seemingly unconcious against the far wall. The wind up torch was positioned to shine out the door, and was what Dave had spotted. The light was begining to fade as Fred knelt down next to the child.

"Macie, my name is Fred, can you hear me?"

The child didn't respond, but he could feel the warmth of her breath on the back of his hand. Her breathing was shallow but present. Pulling the small oxygen bottle from his back, he opened the plastic bag containing the face mask and slipped it over her head to help her breathing.

Her phone was still on. As he worked he spoke loudly so that Graham and his listeners could hear, "OK, we've found her. She's alive but not concious. We'll take it from here."

"Thank god," the relief in Grahams voice evident to all listening. The live transmission was cut off and the sound of music once again filled the airwaves.

A police car arrived a few minutes later. Amongst the equipment in the back of the car was a ladder that allowed the others access to the barn. With the help of the fireman that turned up with the request for further assistance, the child was lifted down to the gound, onto a stretcher and to the waiting ambulance.

~o~O~o~

Epilogue - 2 months later.

Macie looked at herself in the mirror for the third time. The car was due any minute. She nerviously fiddled with the bottom of her skirt. She would be one of the few girls wearing one in the cold weather.

Today would be marked by a series of firsts. This would be her first day back at school since running away. A serious case of pnumonia had kept her in hospital for a month, the first two weeks being spent in intensive care.

Once well enough, the school had started to send her catch up work while she made it back to full fitness. Given that she had outed herself on local radio, the was no point trying to go back to school as a boy. It had taken a while to make the arrangements for her return, but they were now in place.

This would be the first time she went to school as a girl.

Looking out the window, she saw the brightly painted car pull up outside. It wouldn't be the first time she had been taken 'A cool ride to school', but it would be the first time as a girl, and the first time the station had taken the same person twice.

She was slightly older now than most of the students given the treat, but that didn't bother her given the circumstances.

She knew that the car would be coming. What she didn't expect was the person doing the driving. Instead of the usual woman, a grey haired man emerged and approached the house. She wasn't certain who it was until he greeted her.

As soon as he spoke Graham was wrapped in a large hug by the young girl.