I steal a glance at Eve, whose determined gaze is fixed on the waterway ahead of us.
‘Bram, are you getting this?’ A voice crackles in my earpiece.
‘I hear you! Saunders, is that you?’ I scream over the wind.
‘Yeah, I’ll help guide you out. Just follow my directions.’
We zoom around the inner floodways of the Tower watched by thousands from the walkways above.
‘Focus, Bram, these floodways weren’t designed to be sailed down. There are obstacles everywhere,’ Saunders says, as I clip the side wall.
‘No shit!’
A drone appears to my right, tagging me with its targeting laser. Two more seconds and I’ll be stunned.
I lean into a left turn that’s almost ninety degrees, and send a wave of salty water over the concrete bank. It engulfs the drone, bringing it to the ground.
Saunders cheers. ‘That’s one less to worry about. We’ll take care of the rest. You just steer that thing.’
‘What about the Interceptors?’ I ask. ‘Where are they?’
‘We lost one in the clouds; the other is gaining on you,’ he says.
I take a look over my shoulder and see the red flashes of the Interceptor’s lights. It’s close on our tail.
‘There’s another left coming up,’ Saunders says in my ear. ‘Take it. It’ll lead you to a tunnel.’
‘Once we’re through that we’re in Central, right?’ I ask.
‘Right, but it’s a tight squeeze.’
‘How tight?’
There’s no response.
I see the turn approaching and throw the hydrofoil into it at full throttle. This is no time for playing it safe.
The Interceptor turns hard, cutting the corner until it’s flying alongside us. Through the window I see a Final Guard at the controls. He signals for me to stop.
Idiot.
He lurches the vehicle towards us, trying to ram us into the wall. I grip the brakes, slowing us down for the first time so that we sink back into the water.
‘Don’t slow down!’ Saunders screams. ‘They’re on your back!’
I feel the presence of the drones looming behind us as I twist the throttle again. We accelerate hard and slip beneath the Interceptor.
I keep the hydrofoil darting from left to right, never giving them a still target. They won’t fire lethals at us, not with Eve on my back, but there’s plenty of weapons in their arsenal to incapacitate us without harming her.
A fizz of energy electrifies the water to our left.
It’s a near miss. Very near.
‘Bram, the entrance is coming up!’ Saunders cries. ‘Straight through there.’
‘I see it. Shit, that is tight!’ I shout.
The Interceptor rushes around for another pass. It’s faster than we are and gaining on us. The drones move aside to give it room. The guard drops the hover vehicle down into the floodway, speeding inches over the surface.
‘Watch your heads on the way in!’ Saunders cries, as we approach the entrance.
I dip my head below the wind and Eve follows my lead. The Interceptor pulls up just in time as we glide into the narrow, pipe-like entrance. The sound of crashing drones echoes along the dark tunnel as they smash into the perimeter wall behind us.
‘We made it!’ I cheer into the blackness. Eve keeps a grip on me as we sail through the tiny water-outlet and I can’t help but smile in the darkness.
Eventually the tunnel ends. We slip out of it into the river of Central, into the outside world. The hydrofoil bobs in the flowing waters as I glance up and down the river.
No one.
I glance back down the outlet and see nothing but black. Nothing followed us.
‘Did you make it through?’ Saunders crackles to life in my ear.
‘Yeah, I’m out,’ I reply.
‘We lost connection for a moment in the tunnel.’
‘Nothing followed us.’
‘We’re about half a mile from you, on our way,’ he says.
‘Okay, hurry.’
I see a small wooden jetty, the perfect place to ditch the hydrofoil and transfer into the Freever pod. I go to twist the throttle of the hydrofoil – but my arm won’t move.
I lift with all my strength but I’m stuck, rigid.
Paralysed.
REMAIN CALM, the automated voice announces from above.
YOU ARE BEING RESTRAINED.
4
Michael
I have her.
I don’t believe it. She’s right there in front of my eyes.
Eve.
This is my shot. My redemption. Bringing our saviour back to safety.
REMAIN CALM, the automated announcement booms from beneath the Interceptor. The instruction is meant for the fugitives below but I take it on board too. Remain calm, Turner.
I steady my breathing and grip the steering column as I hover over their heads.
I’m going to be a hero. Michael Turner – the saviour of the saviour.
REMAIN CALM.
… Right.
I glance at the rigid figures on my display, their red bodies glowing hot against the blue chill of the river.
‘Facial recognition,’ I command, and the onboard scanners emit a low hum. My thumb lingers over the talk-back, ready to call for backup, but I’m desperate for confirmation first. I can’t screw this up. I have to be sure.
ONE HUNDRED PER CENT MATCH – BRAM WELLS, the onboard assistant says.
It pauses.
‘And? What about her?’ I ask, my heart pounding.
A piercing buzz erupts in the cabin. An alarm.
UNREGISTERED VEHICLE APPROACHING FROM THE SOUTH.
No, not now!
I swing the Interceptor around, still holding my prisoners in paralysis below. I slide my door open, raise my rifle with one hand and lower the Interceptor until I’m alongside them.
Her face is obscured by his at this angle, but her long hair flows out behind, frozen in a gust of wind that no longer exists.
I drift forward into his eyeline. My jaw tightens. I remember the last time we met.
He can see me.
This must be killing him.
An engine roars and the river rocks beneath us as a boat approaches. No, not a boat – some sort of glass craft, custom-built by the look of it. The front section reflects the water as it cuts through the current. The rear is covered by some sort of canopy, hiding whatever, or whoever, is aboard.
It’s on top of us quicker than I realize and something explodes out of it before I can react. A shot. Something connects with the bonnet of the Interceptor and the reactor engine cuts out.
WARNING. ENERGY LEVELS CRITICAL.
The Interceptor loses power and my stomach is in my mouth as I plummet towards the river. My rifle falls to the floor as I use both hands to grip the lifeless steering column helplessly as the emergency system kicks in and I’m slammed into my seat. Air blasts from below, cushioning the fall and preventing me from crashing into the water.
The system steadies the Interceptor but it’s a dead machine now, hovering a foot above the river on backup power.
I reach for my rifle.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ a voice calls from across the water.
I pause and slowly turn my head to see the glass pod bobbing up and down in the river next to Eve and Bram’s hydrofoil. Eve and Bram are stretching, their paralysis lifted.
‘Hands where we can see them, if you don’t mind,’ he says – one of Bram’s accomplices, pointing a weapon at me. Not just any weapon, an EPO rifle like mine. Thieves. Two more men appear from under the camouflage canopy and join him on the hull. For a second I catch a glimpse of what’s at the back of their glass pod: a man, strapped into some sort of harness, his face obscured by a strange mask. The canopy falls and I lose my line of sight.
‘Who are you?’ I ask.
No reply.
‘Who do you work for? Freevers?’
‘It appears th
at way, doesn’t it?’ the man says, with a smirk, nodding at Eve while keeping his finger on the trigger of the rifle aimed at my head.
‘Where are you taking her?’ I’m stalling for time rather than expecting answers.
Laughter bursts from within the pod.
‘You still can’t see it, huh?’ The guffawing buffoon snorts from behind his rifle. ‘Oh, please, can we show him, boss?’
Bram stands on the hydrofoil. Eve remains seated.
‘Boss?’ I say. ‘You’re in charge of this lot?’
Bram steps across to the pod with the help of his comrades. Three on the hull, plus Bram and the masked figure – too many to fight alone … You should have called for backup first, you idiot.
Suddenly I notice Eve is staring at me. Our eyes lock for a moment.
‘Eve …’ I call, my voice catching slightly in my throat. ‘Eve, do you really trust these men?’
She doesn’t reply. She just stares.
‘Turner, right?’ Bram says to me, as the hydrofoil ebbs and flows on the tide between us with Eve not saying a word. ‘Who’s she meant to trust?’ he asks. ‘The people who’ve kept her locked up her whole existence, or the people who just opened the door for her?’
‘Well, I don’t see her walking through it,’ I reply. Eve is still sitting, staring at me. ‘Eve, don’t go with them,’ I say to her. ‘We can protect you.’
‘Turner … Michael, isn’t it?’ Bram asks.
I nod.
‘Michael, you are one of the few people in this world to have met Eve in person. To have spoken to her, face to face. But you went further than that, didn’t you? Tell us, Michael, did Eve ask you to put your hands on her when you dragged her, screaming for her life, into that lift? Is that what you call protection?’ he says.
‘It was a mistake, the biggest of my life, and I’m trying to make amends for it now. I would never harm you, Eve, and that’s the truth.’ I’m still speaking to Eve, not Bram, and I mean it.
But it’s Bram who replies. ‘Mistake or not, it happened, and I know more than anyone the effect Eve has on you once you meet, once you’ve seen her … touched her. You’ve not stopped thinking about her, have you?’ he says, shaking his head in pity. ‘Obsessed, like all the hundreds who came before you and failed at protecting her.’
‘It’s not like that,’ I say, through clenched teeth. I glance at my rifle, just a few feet from my hands.
‘You’d be dead before you felt the metal,’ snarls Bram’s accomplice with the gun, following my eyes.
One of his men leans in and speaks into Bram’s ear. Bram nods in response.
‘Time to go. Say goodbye to Eve and forget her. She’s not yours to protect any more.’
The pod’s engine growls to life. They loop around and sail away along the river in the direction they came from …
Leaving Eve sitting alone on the hydrofoil.
What the hell?
‘Eve?’ I say, struggling to understand what just happened.
They left. Without Eve.
‘Eve!’ I call, as the hydrofoil she’s sitting on rocks in the wake of the departing pod.
I lunge for my rifle. Something’s going on. I scan the area quickly. The river is dead.
Just the two of us.
Me.
And.
Eve.
My heart begins to race. Remain calm, I order myself.
Eve suddenly moves.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask, lifting one foot from the dead Interceptor and taking a look at the murky water between us. The gap to the hydrofoil is big but, with the surge of adrenalin tingling in my veins, I know I can make it.
‘Stay there, I’m coming over.’
But then I see her smiling.
It grows into a laugh. Not a happy laugh, a mocking one.
I hold on to the doorframe, heart pounding.
Eve disappears before my eyes. Then she flickers back into existence. My mind connects the dots and I realize I’ve been fooled. We all have.
She’s not the real Eve.
She’s a damn projection.
The man in the back of the pod wasn’t wearing a mask. It was a visor, a pilot’s visor. That thing must have been broadcasting her projection inside the EPO perimeter wall.
Eve begins to flicker again, her signal dying as the pod sails out of range.
Before she fades completely she blows me a kiss with one hand and gives me the finger with the other.
Then she’s gone.
5
Eve
I’m over someone’s shoulder now. Still covered, still in darkness. Yet their handling of me has softened. They have me. I’m theirs. They must know I’m not going anywhere.
My body bobs up and down as my grunting captor moves, seemingly through water. With each movement there’s a splash as they dart left and right.
My heart thumps – adrenalin getting me ready to fight, to run, to do something. But I’m clueless. I’m unsure whether to continue to kick and scream as before, breaking free so that I’m out in public where it might be safer, or whether it’s best to submit to their will. I don’t know who I’m with. I don’t know what their intentions are. I also don’t know what the reaction of the crowd around us would be if I showed myself now.
I am lost.
I’m unequipped to be here.
‘Attention, citizens of Central,’ a voice booms.
I snatch a quick breath while we come to a stop. Even though the material around me muffles the sound, I recognize the voice instantly. Vivian Silva. It’s hardly surprising that her presence is felt down here too. I doubt I’ll ever be free of her.
The crowd around me are silenced.
‘We have experienced a catastrophic security breach,’ she states, her voice as cold as ever. ‘Eve, your precious saviour, is among you and her life is in severe danger.’
The screams of anguish, despair and disbelief startle me.
Vivian continues to speak, silencing them.
‘Our last hope for the human race cannot be harmed,’ she tells them. ‘She cannot be damaged. She cannot be allowed to escape. To be taken.’
I feel the body of my captor stiffen.
For a moment I wonder what will happen, but the answer depends on why I’m in this position in the first place. Was I spotted and taken on a whim? Is this part of a plan? Is it my security team who’ve managed to get hold of me and are subtly trying to take me back – returned like a piece of stolen property?
The hold on my body becomes tighter as tensions spike around us. Voices murmur words of suspicion. Theories start to circulate.
Without warning my foot is grabbed and pulled, and I yelp with fear. There’s a scuffle around me, pushing and shoving, before my foot is released and I hear the brutal sound of flesh impacting on flesh, followed by a groan and a heavy splash.
From far away I hear shouting, the declaration that someone has spotted me.
I take a deep breath as I hear more of the flying objects from before pass overhead, waiting for them to make my whereabouts known and for the crowd to discover me properly.
But the pandemonium doesn’t come, at least not to where I am being held. Instead I hear voices in the distance. I can’t distinguish exactly what’s being said, but it seems it’s the distraction needed. I’m moved from one shoulder to the other, my capturer preparing to continue moving, and I don’t fight against it. I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to. We start moving away from whatever seems to have gripped everyone. Dodging through crowds, marching through what sounds like water.
I do not fight, kick, scream or protest. I play my part. I tell myself that, whatever this is, it has to be better than being unprepared in front of thousands of people. In reality, I’m terrified.
‘We’re nearly there,’ the voice mutters, presumably to me.
I’m shocked – not at the reassuring nature of the words, but at the voice itself. It’s female. Even though I’ve spent my life surrounded by the Mothers, the
sound of a female voice here is a surprise, and a strange comfort. Over the years, the Mothers shared glimpses of their lives out here and hints of what had led them to join me in the Dome. Vivian’s descriptions of what life would be like for them if she were to expel them into the world below were horrific. Yet here is a woman, a strong and capable one, leading me away from my previous ‘care’.
My body is turned and lowered.
‘Have you got her?’ she asks someone, as new hands find me. My cover billows enough for me to see the corner of the boat I’m being lowered into, along with three pairs of sturdy black boots, all soaked. ‘Steady now,’ she instructs. ‘Straight to Ben!’
I sit, the floor beneath me rocking from side to side as they work quickly, darting across the deck. An engine revs into action, my body lurching forward with it as it moves. Eventually the pace becomes steady. We chug along calmly, water rolling in our wake.
I’ve never seen a boat in real life, much less been on one – although even if I thought I had, I’d be questioning the experience after recent events.
A boat.
I’ve read about them in books, seen clips of them in action. Yet the feeling of the wind pushing against me as we go, the rush to the senses, it’s nothing like I imagined. Even hidden, unable to see clearly, I’m aware of the beauty in it.
‘Eve,’ the woman calls loudly, so I can hear her over the wind, the engine and the water. She places a hand on my knee and crouches lower so I can see her creased, freckled face peering below the bottom of the veil. Not kind and soft, like Mother Nina’s, but strong and likeable all the same. As our eyes meet for the first time she sighs, relief flooding her features. ‘We won’t be long now.’
‘Where are we going?’ I ask.
‘Somewhere they can’t find you,’ she replies, her eyes darting up to the Tower we’re moving further away from.
‘Who are you?’
‘All will become clear,’ she mutters. ‘But I need you to stay under there a little longer. Eyes are watching and we don’t want to arouse suspicion.’
‘But why have you helped me?’ I ask. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘We want nothing,’ she says, one side of her mouth curling into a smile. ‘We wanted only to give you your freedom … You’re free, Eve.’
The Eve Illusion Page 3