Ice Diaries

by Lexi Revellian

  “At Strata where we are now it’s not like here. Everyone lives in the same block of flats, like a commune. It’s amazing, they’ve got electricity, there’s three wind turbines on the roof. They’ve got a guy there who’s a whiz at mechanical stuff, he got them going. People get together in the Hall – they’ve knocked down walls in the flats at snow level to use as a communal area, with a bar and a shop, loads of sofas and tables, a ping pong table and a darts board. Stalls with stuff for sale, too, and a notice board. A bit like a cross between a market, a pub and a village hall, and it’s almost always got power, even when there’s none to the flats. Everyone hangs out there. We spent a lot of time in the Hall so Mike could get to know people. They all think he’s such a good listener, but that’s because he’s on the lookout for anything he can use to his advantage. It’s sad really, seeing them fall for it.” Serena took a long pull at her wine, and I topped up her glass. “Anyway, the evening of the day we arrived David came in looking pissed off, got himself a stiff drink and joined us. He’d been taking care of Tessa all day. I got the definite feeling him and Katie had had a row, and he was sort of seething like he needed to offload on to somebody. And of course there was Mike, all sympathy and concern.”

  Somehow when David was here I hadn’t got round to telling him about Mike forcing me and Greg to stand outside; the revelations about his new family had sidetracked me. I should have told him what had happened after Nina’s party, instead of making generalized assertions he could dismiss out of hand.

  “David told us about seeing you, and I could see why he couldn’t let off steam to Katie. He said he was worried about you, thought you were making a big mistake yada yada. Went on for ages. Though if you ask me, what really bugged him was you getting it together with another guy – he’s one of those people who expect their exes to remain celibate forever in memory of them.”

  I almost laughed. Looking back, he’d been like that about his girlfriend before me, but it hadn’t registered at the time, I’d been so madly in love with him.

  “Because no way was he going to admit that, he really laid it on thick about the danger to you with Morgan being so deceitful and unreliable and thuggish.” Morgan stirred and she shot a quick look at him. “Sorry. That’s what he said. And you can imagine Mike agreeing. I didn’t say anything because he would just have told me to leave. So they spent ten minutes trashing your character, then Mike said what a pity it was when Tori was such a lovely girl, if headstrong. David agreed. He got quite maudlin, though he hadn’t drunk that much – Mike of course was totally sober. He said he was afraid it was all his fault for introducing Morgan into your community, however indirectly and inadvertently, and he felt duty bound to do something. So finally he said he’d been thinking of going back to confront Morgan, and what David told him had made up his mind.”

  Morgan said, “When’s he coming?”

  “I don’t know. At that point I forgot to keep quiet and said I didn’t see what it had to do with either of them who Tori slept with, and Mike said he thought it would be a nice idea if I called in on Jen to take a look at her tie-dying. So I left and they went on talking, thick as thieves. That was six days ago, and it’s been a whiteout ever since. As soon as I could I came here to warn you.”

  “That was very kind of you,” I said. “Thanks.”

  “You needn’t thank me, what I’m afraid of is Mike’s going to dump me and take you south instead and I’ll be stuck forever living with a load of time-warp hippies.”

  “I wouldn’t go.”

  “He might not give you a choice.” This struck me as melodramatic; I didn’t see that he could compel me. She went on, “I could tell he fancied you, even before this week. It was after the dinner at Nina’s, when you were wearing that corset and all the eye makeup. It was like he saw your possibilities. And he got a buzz out of you standing up to him. Don’t know why, I have to agree with him the whole time or he goes all icy on me. It’s bloody unfair. He kept going on about what a waste it was, you mouldering here at subsistence level, you deserved better. I got sick of the subject. Anyway, I’m worried about what he’s going to do to Morgan.” She turned to him. “He went ballistic when he realized you’d taken his Semtex after everything else. He offered to sell some to one of the House Committee at Strata, and when he unwrapped it to show the man it was plasticene. The man laughed like he thought Mike was trying to fool him and Mike was furious.”

  Morgan gave a quiet snort of amusement. But I didn’t laugh. I’d known this was a self-indulgent mistake, annoying Mike for the sake of it. Immature and asking for trouble.

  “Not your smartest move,” I said.

  “Who says I was trying to be smart? Just the thought of the look on his face makes it worth it.” He smiled infuriatingly, as if enjoying a private joke. “Anyway, let him come. I can handle Mike.”

  “Better if you didn’t have to.”

  He shrugged. I scowled at him. There was a brief silence, broken by Serena.

  “And I should have said, he’s got a gun.”

  Ice Diaries ~ Lexi Revellian

  CHAPTER 22

  Fire

  Morgan sat up, not smiling any more. “Where the fuck did he get a gun from?”

  “A man in the flats. He did a deal on the quiet with him, swapped it for the Lynx. So you can see he’s really serious. We’re all wondering who’s going to get left behind now we’re a sled short. Everyone’s getting paranoid about it. Mac said Mike will shoot one of us. I think he was joking.”

  I wondered if she knew David had been offered a sled, presumably BJ’s. Morgan said, “What kind of a gun is it?” Serena looked blank. “Is it a rifle, a shotgun, a pistol?”

  “It’s small, like a revolver. Modern-looking. He wouldn’t let me hold it. He did say the name … it had a number.”

  “A Glock 17 or 19?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Which?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Morgan said to me, “The police use Glocks. They’re semi-automatic. Fantastically reliable, work when they’re filthy or freezing, won’t go off if you drop them. Just point and shoot – pulling the trigger deactivates the safety catches.” He turned to Serena. “D’you know what magazines he’s got? How many rounds?”

  “The man gave him some boxes of ammunition. I don’t know anything about them. They went down to the car park so he could show Mike how to fire it.”

  I said, “What does semi-automatic mean? Is that like a machine gun?”

  “Machine guns are belt-fed. Glocks have a high capacity magazine with fifteen or more bullets, and you get two with each gun. You can just keep firing till you get lucky.”

  “Maybe we should get out of here. Now.”

  “On the other hand, Mike’s a novice. He’ll have problems hitting anything more than a few metres away. A bullet’s small and a human’s big by comparison.”

  “I’m not totally reassured by that.”

  “Oh, I’m not thinking of staying to give Mike some target practice. We’ll vamoose. I’d rather take a chance on crashing the sled.”

  Serena had been looking from one of us to the other, biting her lip. Now she said, with a casual air but sounding strained, “I know it’s a bit of a cheek asking, but I don’t suppose you’d let me come with you? I’ve got the snowmobile, and I’d much rather go south with you guys.”

  My heart sank. I didn’t want her with us, but sensed her desperation and it seemed terribly selfish to refuse. Morgan’s reaction was instant and decisive.

  He shook his head. “Sorry. We’ve got all our gear packed and ready to go, enough for us two, and you haven’t even got a trailer. You’d hold us up. Plus I don’t want the responsibility.”

  “That’s okay. Just thought I’d ask.” Her voice was flat. “I’d better be off then, before the weather gets any worse or Mike misses me. Good luck. Hope you make it south.” She got to her feet. “Can I use your bathroom before I go?”

  “Sure.” I felt dreadful
ly sorry for her. As soon as the door closed, I said quietly, “I feel mean. She did come to warn us. You don’t think we should take her?”

  “No, I don’t. It’s simple: would she help or hinder us to get south? We’ll have our work cut out as it is avoiding Mike and making the journey. We don’t need delay while she gets her kit together, and we don’t need her. The only possible reason for taking her would be to stop her telling Mike we’re still here, and that won’t matter if we go now.”

  “Are you always this ruthless? If I got ill or injured or we quarrelled, would you leave me behind?”

  “Of course not.” He smiled. “You and me are buddies.”

  “Buddies?” I raised my eyebrows. “Buddies?”

  “Damn straight. I watch your back, you do the same for me. Get ready to go. He could arrive any minute. If Serena made it here, so can he.”

  I rushed round collecting things and putting them in backpacks. Everything we needed for the journey was in the trailer hidden north of Old Street with the sled, except for some stuff we used on a daily basis. I tried not to forget anything.

  Serena reappeared, smiled faintly at us, crossed to the door and slid it open. Morgan helped her heave the trailer off the sled. Three inches of snow covered it.

  He checked her petrol gauge and said she’d got plenty, then told her to keep her compass at south southwest and she wouldn’t get lost. I hoped he was right. The snow fell thicker than before, and the moon, had we been able to see it, was only a sliver.

  “Will you be okay? It’s almost dark.”

  She turned on the engine and the headlights. “I’m more worried about getting back in without anyone noticing.”

  “Good luck.”

  She zoomed off through the gloom and the snow, a fast-receding glow of light. I turned to go inside, hearing the engine grow ever fainter.

  Another twenty minutes and I reckoned I’d got everything. I dressed in my new layers for the journey. I took the letter from my mother out of the wooden box and put it in an inside zipped pocket, deciding against taking the photo of David on Kos. I packed a pen and my diary, and chose two paperbacks, The Big Sleep and About a Boy. It dawned on me I’d been contented here, almost happy, more so as time went on; having always longed to get away, now the time had come I felt nostalgia for what I would leave behind.

  I said, “Are we off?”

  “As soon as I’ve made sure no one’s lying in wait for us out there. If Mike was only waiting for the snow to lighten, and Serena went round in circles, they could be here already. We’ll go upstairs for a better view.”

  Morgan went and moved the bed away from the unused front entrance. I unlocked the balcony door so Greg would be able to get in. I went to put out the candles, and he told me to leave them burning. I had a last look round the home I was about to abandon forever, then joined Morgan in the hallway. He opened the door gently, listening in the blackness, switched on his torch and shone it both ways. We slipped into the corridor, closing the door behind us. I followed him towards the stairs and up a couple of flights, into a flat two floors above mine. Its lock was missing – I’ve broken into all the flats at one time or another. Before entering he switched off his torch. So did I. I shut the door while he went through the hall to the abandoned living room, its air cold and smelling of damp plaster. He crossed to the window. Nothing was visible beyond the glass except darkness and swirling snow. Visibility was maybe fifty or a hundred yards. I shivered. We’d be driving blind through this. The headlights wouldn’t help much.

  I said, “If Mike’s outside we’d never know.”

  “No, but it cuts both ways – he’ll have trouble spotting us. I can’t see anything out there.” He suddenly said, “Did you see that?”

  “No, what?”

  “A light.”

  We both stared into the murk. Nothing. “What sort of light?”

  “Small, white. A torch. Someone’s out there.”

  “It could be Greg, though he mostly comes in the morning.”

  He slid the door open, and moved on to the balcony, keeping down. I joined him, my feet sinking into eighteen inches of snow. Crouching low, I peered between two panels whose glass was opaque with snow. Minutes passed. Snowflakes collected on me, and I brushed them clumsily off my eyelashes with my glove.

  I whispered, “Why don’t we just leave further along if there’s someone here?”

  “One more minute. I’d sooner know who it is, where they are and what they’re up to. Don’t want to bump into them.”

  Then I saw it, the quick flare of a flame and the dim shape of a man. His arm moved fast. Something flew through the air, there was a crack and flames flared up beneath us; a ball of fire, a yellow glow and black smoke. A Molotov cocktail, thrown at my flat. A second one smacked into the glass, and the fire belched higher.

  “Let’s go.” Morgan headed out of the flat fast and I followed. A louder explosion; an enormous wall of orange light lit us on our way. Morgan ran along corridors to our right, down stairs at the far end back to snow level and into another flat. “Wait for me here.”

  “I’m staying with you.” It’s always a mistake in Doctor Who when two people split up.

  “Okay, but don’t get in my way.” He opened the balcony door, vaulted the rail and raced towards my flat through the deep fresh snow, with me running more slowly after.

  The glare from the wall of flames all along my windows illuminated a man alone, hood up, snow blowing about him. He stood by a car roof top box full of cans and bottles with rags poking out of their tops, lighting then hurling them steadily one by one towards the conflagration. He’d moved on to big plastic containers without wicks that exploded into flames five storeys high when they hit. There was a stench of burning petrol and the smoke blew in my eyes and made them sting. Behind the fire’s roar you could hear cracks as the double glazing shattered. Inside, all my painstakingly collected firewood and kindling, a year’s work, waited to catch fire. I imagined how upset Greg would be when he discovered my flat a burnt-out shell. Anger flared within me. Bastard.

  The man saw us and turned. It was Eddie, his face a swollen mess, with purple patches under both eyes and a white dressing over his nose. His expression changed from simple absorption to alarm. He grabbed a bottle and clicked a lighter. Morgan kept running, even when Eddie threw the bottle at him and it flared on the snow and set light to his clothes. He smashed into Eddie, barrelling him to the ground. Eddie screamed as Morgan punched his face with an audible crunch, making me wince. I remembered what Morgan had said about watching his back, and scanned the darkness, glad not to watch the fight. Just the noises made me feel sick. I couldn’t see anyone. Eddie went quiet; when I looked I saw him curled unmoving in the snow. Morgan stood, slapping at his jacket.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He crouched and went through Eddie’s pockets till he found a key on a ring.

  “Is he dead?”

  “No. Just not very healthy.” He got to his feet, grabbed the trailer’s rope and headed back the way we had come, his sleeve still smoking. I followed him, shaking.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Mike’ll be in the corridor outside your flat with the others, waiting for us to be forced out by smoke. We must have just missed him. We’ll skirt round the building, pick up the sled and get away before he susses out we’re not in there.”

  That sounded good to me. I was relieved Morgan had decided to walk away rather than creep up behind Mike and take him by surprise. I didn’t want him to beat up anyone else, nor did I want anyone to beat him up, and if I never saw Mike again it would be too soon.

  The soft snow in our faces and underfoot made the going heavy work, but it was a comforting reflection that every step took us further from Mike. I quickly lost my bearings, but Morgan seemed to know which direction to take. By the time the building loomed into sight my legs were aching from keeping up with him. He slowed to take stock of his surroundings. It was so quiet I could hear o
ur breathing. I turned and looked all round. The conflagration wasn’t visible as it was on the south side of Bézier, away from us, but thick grey smoke mushroomed above the roof. Nothing moved, and though it was now snowing less, our tracks were being obliterated even as I watched.

  “I’m thinking we should wait here till the snow stops. Camp if we have to.” For the first time, he looked undecided. “Unless we go really slow, we could bump into something under the snow and wreck the sled. Then we’re buggered.”

  This idea did not appeal to me. I was itching to get away. “Mike made it here all right. And if we go now while he’s at my flat he won’t see us. He’ll start looking once he knows we’re not there. This snow could go on for days. And it’s less thick than it was.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Okay, we’ll head north slowly and do a big circuit to the east.”

  He set off again. I hoped he was right thinking I was right – I might be wrong. There was no going back to my flat.

  Where we’d left the sled was a little below snow level, with drifts making a slope down to the concrete floor. Morgan left Eddie’s trailer outside, and we stepped between scaffolding poles into the wide empty space, our boots sounding on the frozen surface and echoing from distant walls. There was a musty smell of damp cement. It was too dark to see anything. I stamped my feet, brushed snow from my clothes, took off my gloves and had reached inside my pocket for my torch when Morgan’s face was suddenly spotlit. I looked in the direction the light came from and it moved to shine in my eyes, blue/white and dazzling.