I should find Anna and Rehan…
I should set them free of this mess.
I start to pack. A flower falls out of my towel, somehow undamaged despite the smashed vase, and I take a moment to wrap it in a piece of tissue before pressing it into my pocket. Perhaps it’ll bring me luck.
Chapter Seventeen
Our words bounce around the room that was mine, for a day.
“She got away. I’m so sorry.” My voice is flat as I absorb how badly I’ve let Anna and Rehan down. “she’ll tell Forever about this location. You shouldn’t stay here.” Here in this beautiful old cottage where Anna has clearly lived for many years and that, now I know I have to leave it, I love, too. The messy living room with its cushions and piles of books. The splashes of texture in the paintings. The garden where weeds are flowers. The lake view from my window, which I’ve barely looked at yet. I pick up the pink scarf that Anna gave me, and shake broken glass from it.
Anna nods. “We’ll go somewhere safer. Don’t worry about it.”
Rehan agrees, “We should go now, at least from the immediate area.”
How can I tell them that Lia can lead Forever to me whenever she likes? And to anyone with me. I need to keep moving, she may know where I am, but she doesn’t know where I’m going. Which needs to be far, far away.
“You’re not safe with me.” My voice sounds funny, different. “Lia told me that she can find me. It’s part of her talent.”
They look at me like I’m insane. Then my mother says gently “I won’t be parted from you again.”
“No way am I heading off now,” adds Rehan. “She surprised me, but I won’t be so easy next time.”
They’re being kind. That makes it so much harder.
We argue as we pack our bags, adding food and bottles of water to the piles of clothes. Anna gives me an old backpack and claims to be excited about the opportunity to finally use her musty camping gear. It’s November. She’s pretending to want to camp in November, when even the zip tags on her backpacks are clogged with rust. I can feel the old walls of this house glaring at me, blaming me for destroying their sanctuary.
Rehan is all plans and maps, urging us on. He’s back in his element now, the planner, the rebel, muttering about pre-emptive attacks and KHH resources.
They can’t come with me. They can’t possibly come with me.
I’m hollow.
Forever wants me back, and I haven’t absorbed yet what that means. But Lia won’t come alone next time. I turn over the things she said, as my fingers fold cloth and my lungs take short, painful, puffs of air.
I pack, picturing Arlo’s haunted face staring at me through the garden. Forever is using my friends to hunt Vols. Not KHH, Forever know everything about KHH already, know every safe house, probably track every phone. Hunting ordinary Vols, wiping them out before the rest of the world ever hears of them. That’s why the museum guard and Anna had never heard of Vols. Forever wants to erase them, to use Vol like me and Lia to wipe out other Vol. Why?
I bite my lip until it tastes of metal.
Forever wants me back, but not before it’s used my disappearance to turn my friends into drugged assassins. And my friends want to help them, they think they’re rescuing me. Once Lia’s told them she can find me, they’ll all come. Forever is coming for me, and whoever’s with me. Like at the farmhouse. Like at the safe house. There are no safe places for me.
Forever wants me back.
Anna’s already said that she doesn’t have a car. Rehan’s shown me how to drive. All I have to do is get to the rental car, get away, then we’ll be separate and they’ll be safe. Stranded, but Keswick has buses and taxis and telephones and people. The car will give me just enough time to get away from them, and I’ve got camping kit, supplies. I’ve got Lia’s gun, I too can persuade strangers to help me. I’ll figure out the rest later.
So I pretend to give in. Come with me, then, I say. Why not. And we plod into the garden with our tents and bags and coats, then Anna is hesitating on the threshold, messing with the keys, dropping them, locking up, dropping them again, fussing at the cottage door while I help Rehan load the car. My last moments with my mother are flashing by too fast to see them, and I feel like she’s already gone. My chest hurts.
I don’t want to go. I’m looking away so they don’t see the tears I’m desperately trying to hold back, blinking furiously. I didn’t know Anna a day ago. I never heard of her a week ago. I will not cry over her. I will not.
Will she cry over me? Or will she hate me for leaving?
I blink harder, and tug at Rehan’s sleeve. Let’s get this over with.
“I saw Lia!” I tell him, pointing at the wall a hundred yards away. He sprints over to check it out, keeping his body in between me and the wall, and it takes me no time at all to slide into the front seat, slam the door and start the car. I use too much petrol, and the car leaps forward noisily while Rehan and Anna run towards me, shouting. I shoot jerkily down the road, faster and faster, I want them to know that they’ve been left, that they can’t catch me, I want this tearing separation over.
The road has disappeared and the steering wheel is moving in my hands of its own accord and the car bumps across some grass and into a ditch, where the engine stutters to a silence.
I stare at brambles through the cracked windscreen.
Rehan jogs over and peers in through my window. “Idiot.”
They don’t say much about my attempt to abandon them, but I feel awful, especially when it becomes clear that the car has no intention of coming back out of the ditch. We look at the bush that ate the front of the car.
“It’s better to change vehicles anyway,” offers Rehan cheerfully as he unpacks the car boot again. I wish he’d shut up.
We buy tickets for a coach North, Rehan chooses the destination based on the painfully circuitous route which the coach will take. It’ll make it harder for Lia to find me if I’m not moving in a straight line, he thinks. He’s probably right. I guess I need to learn to think like that, from now on.
We make a funny group at the coach station, sitting on piles of ancient camping gear. Anna is twitchy, jumping at every sudden movement, sticking to the walls and mostly staring at the ground.
“Anna? Anna?” A dog walker does a double take and strides over to us, her face lighting up with a huge smile. Anna briefly pretends not to see her, then gives it up and nods tightly. “You’re out and about again! But that’s wonderful.”
Out and about again?
“Are you back at the museum?” the woman continues. Anna’s head-shake and silence doesn’t put her off. “Very wise, one step at a time. Agoraphobia is a serious illness, you shouldn’t push yourself too quickly, short regular outings, that’s the ticket. But it’s wonderful that you’re getting through it!”
Oh, no.
The rest of the coach station is listening with interest. Anna is embarrassed and eventually manages to get rid of the dog walker by promising to bake a cake for some event or other. After the woman’s gone, Anna stares fixedly at the wall, and it’s clear she’s not going to discuss it.
Agoraphobia. My mother’s been – is still? – unwell. Mentally unwell. And we’re taking her on the run. Rehan’s eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head slightly.
Three hours and two bus changes later, we plod down the vehicle’s steps, into the early evening of Edinburgh. Despite myself, I’m excited to see it – I can’t quite get my head around the fact that I’ve left England. And so far, Scotland is impressive, beautiful buildings made of yellow-grey stone stretch up around us, lit by lamp-posts and twinkly lights. The wind smells of newness and rain – and food. I’m hungry. Anna is pale and silent.
We wander into the first restaurant we find that doesn’t mind our huge pile of luggage, and Rehan orders us pizza. Anna seems relieved to be inside again, and I feel awful.
The meal is awkward, Rehan and Anna making an effort to get along, but each competing for my attention. With every wor
d, they feel more like strangers. I miss my friends. I say less and less, sinking into my pizza. At least our mountain of bags is keeping the other diners out of immediate earshot.
And then the truce is over.
“We can find a nice cottage somewhere remote in Scotland – an island, perhaps – where they’ll never find Fern, and then you can get back to KHH,” suggests Anna.
“Lia can track Fern wherever she goes,” Rehan reminds her. “Fern needs to keep moving. Fast. As unencumbered as possible.”
“I know you believe in this Vol stuff,” Anna continues, and Rehan’s eyebrows shoot up, “but I never heard about that before today and I’m reluctant to bet my daughter’s future, not to mention my own, on the say so of that girl. She could have found Fern in any number of ways. Just followed her, even. Or followed you. Or maybe they can track phones.”
Rehan’s fingers are drumming quietly on the table. “Not my phone. Fern doesn’t have one. She doesn’t need to go remote,” he says, “just keep moving. She could bounce up and down motorways for years, as long as she doesn’t stay anywhere too long. It’s a shame she hasn’t got a passport...”
The pizza is dry, difficult to swallow.
“A houseboat,” Anna suggests triumphantly. “Settle down and keep moving.”
“What, up and down a canal? How easy would that be to track?”
“A sea boat, then,” Anna counters.
Actually, that does sound pretty cool. I picture Anna and me roving the sea, completely free. Then, despite myself, I picture the waves spinning up into the air as Forever’s helicopter descends. I can’t even escape in my daydreams.
“Do you know how to sail?” Rehan scoffs.
“I’m not aware that I actually need your permission in choosing where to house my daughter,” Anna continues. “In fact, it’s probably not a good idea for you to know.”
Rehan takes a deep breath.
“Can we talk about all this tomorrow?” I ask. “We need to find somewhere to stay tonight.”
“On it,” Rehan waves his phone. “This is central Edinburgh, there’s a billion places to stay. We could split up for the night…” he eyes Anna thoughtfully, “it’s only Fern who’s being tracked.”
“Please do,” Anna says.
“I’d really feel better if we stay together,” I suggest weakly.
Chapter Eighteen
Someone thought that it would be a good idea to paint the walls completely black and accessorize with chains of plastic beads. This, combined with the lack of furniture, the striped velvet bedspread, and a mound of cushions, make the room look like a cheap boudoir for vampires.
There’s a very strong smell of air freshener. My backpack and carrier bags huddle in the corner, intimidated by their surroundings.
Someone taps on my door, and I freeze.
“It’s only me,” whispers Rehan, and my heart starts beating again. I unhook the locks on the door, chains clanking and clunking. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he adds as he slips in past me, taking in my face. “I just thought we should talk on our own for a bit. Wow, nice room.” He grins. “Very Marie-Antoinette does backpacking.”
“Isn’t yours like this?”
“Nope, you’re special.”
I hate those words. A million years ago, he used those words to crack me open, make me fall for him. I sit on the bed, and Rehan plonks down next to me, the bed creaking under his weight.
The too soft mattress tries to lean us together, so we shift further apart, stiff as a Victorian couple who’ve just been introduced. I can smell summer trees, it must be that shaving stuff he uses. Cedar? Sandalwood? I don’t have the vocabulary yet for such things.
“We should talk,” says Rehan.
“Yeah.”
But we don’t. Instead, we stare at the wall on the other side of the room. Black. I think they painted it on top of patterned wallpaper, there’s kind of flower shapes lost in the black, if you look hard enough. If there was a clock in here, it’d be ticking loudly. But it’s just silent.
Rehan turns to look at me. “Are we really going on the run with Anna? She seems kind of fragile.”
I shrug. “Can’t just ditch her. Especially after Lia trashed her house.”
“She might still be safer there than with us.”
“I just met her.”
“I get it. It’s awesome that we found her. Kudos to Nevi.”
I nod. I don’t want to talk about Nevi. Or Anna.
“Fern—” He takes my hand. I let it lie in his. “Are we ok?” He tugs on my hand.
My eyes fall on the fluffy polar bear, peeking out of my backpack. And I think about how Rehan carried me into the safe house. Ran with me through the attics, while his father was left behind. The clothes, the car, the food. Taking me to Nevi, finding my mother. Trying to stop Lia, getting beaten up helping me.
But then my mind jerks me further back, to my bed at the Institute, where each night I poured out my heart while he offered up lies. Feel again the frost that dampened my knees as I crouched in the smoke, so desperate to help him, while he ignored me. Feel the bag’s fabric moving against my lips as I speak, the plastic digging into my wrists. Feel the farmhouse roof against my back and his fingers clamped over my mouth I struggle to scream, to breathe.
He’s said that he’s sorry. But I’m not sure sorry works for stuff like that, not sure it should work. And forgiveness isn’t something that I can just decide to do. I don’t know how. All this stuff that’s happened is done, can’t be undone. I’ll never again trust that easily, love that instantly. I can’t go back to being who I used to be. I think that I hate him a little for that.
I hate him more for killing that fake Rehan, the one I loved. I miss him.
“I don’t know,” I say. So cliché, but truth.
He huffs in frustration. “What do you want me to say?”
“Would you do it all again? Tell me all that stuff?” You’re such a special girl, Fern, I wish that we could be together. Wish that I could see your face for real. When will you be able to come outside? There’s so much that I want to show you.
“Well obviously I would’ve done things differently if I’d known that Forever set it up—”
“No. Not if you’d known then what you know now. Just – if you were in that situation again, with everything exactly the same, would you say all that stuff to me?”
I think that I’m falling in love with you, Fern.
He lets go of my hand. “What can I say—”
“Would you?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m not sure how to make us ok.”
A few moments pass.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks.
A little slice of fear stabs me at the thought of being on the run without him, trying to look after Anna, watching for Lia. I shake my head. “Maybe – we don’t have to be ok. We just have to get on with things. Plan the next few days.”
“Ok, then.”
“Yeah.”
“You could join KHH. Properly, I mean,” Rehan says.
I get up and wander around the room, flicking the chains of plastic beads that hang on the walls, as he carries on talking. “Not as an abductee, no cable-ties required. Help expose Forever, stop them killing Vol.”
I flinch a little at the mention of hand-ties. “I thought KHH was run by Forever.”
“My Dad was. It can’t all have been – I didn’t know, I’m sure loads of others didn’t know. I’ll work it out. Sort it out. Someone has to. KHH has money, equipment, places we can stay… You could really make a difference to the fight against Forever, help the Vol. There’s never been an insider before.”
I wish he’d shut up about KHH. And Forever. Just shut up. “I’m really tired.”
“It’s not even eight o’clock.”
“I’m tired.” I say flatly. “I’ve had seventeen years of Forever preparing me to be some kind of psychic Vol-assassin, and I can’t even drive a car fifty metres wi
thout crashing. You want me to be some kind of Vol heroine. I’m not even Vol. I’m the no-talent, remember?” I lean against the wall, wishing that he’d get off my bed so I can flop on it. “I just want to get to know my mother and get as far away from Forever as I can.”
“You don’t have to be some heroine or whatever.”
“But that’s what you want, isn’t it?” Forever wants me to be an assassin, Rehan is looking for a rebel, Anna wants me to be her lost little baby girl, my classmates treat me like a child… I don’t know who I am, but I am not any of those. I like stolen romance novels and dried flowers and the sea and people who are honest with me.
“Look, you can be whatever you want. Forever ruined my life. Killed my sister, probably also my Dad. I’m not walking away from that. You want to run away for the rest of your life? I don’t see it working out, but fine, it’s up to you. Must be nice having the option to walk away. Shame about your friends.”
“There’s nothing I can do for them.”
“Have you tried?”
Geraldine’s face pops into my mind, shaking her head, telling me I’ll never take anyone down. She’s right.
“Stop giving up. It’s not you,” Rehan says.
“And you know me so well.”
“I do.” He stands up and walks over, towering over me. I’m trapped between him and the wall. “Maybe it’s not fair, maybe I tricked you, but yes, I do know you. Maybe better than anyone.”
I hate that he’s right. “There’s nothing I can do,” I repeat, my breath hissing into his chest. I give him a little shove, to make him step back. He doesn’t. But he takes hold of my hands, when I go to push him again.
“You’re angry with me, I get that,” he says. “But you’re outside, making your own decisions, instead of on some scientist’s dissection table. If I’d have done things differently, maybe that would be different too. So yeah. I’m not sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. And you know what? I reckon you’d have done the same.”
A Girl From Forever (The Forever Institute series Book 1) Page 14