Ice Diaries

by Lexi Revellian

  Ginger swallowed a final mouthful and got to his feet. “Randall said a turbine blade got shot. We’ve only got two spares. Let’s hope the next visiting psycho has better aim.”

  “Thank you,” said Morgan, reaching for a slice of toast.

  “No offence, but a couple more like Mike and we’re buggered. I’d better put a padlock on the door so no one can get up there. I’m off now to change the blade. And I don’t suppose you finished clearing the snow … ? Never mind, I’ll do it. Make yourselves at home.”

  When Ginger had left, we carried on working our way through the plateful. I started brooding and didn’t want any more. Morgan noticed and got stern with me, as if he was still a soldier and I was too.

  “You’re not to get down about it, Tori – it won’t achieve anything, and we’ve got stuff to do. I need you fully functional. The main thing is, we survived. It’s like an army operation, you support each other, do what you have to and get back alive. Then it’s over. Don’t let it get to you, leave it behind and move on.”

  He was right. I nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “And finish your breakfast.”

  Sue appeared in the doorway. “I’ve come to get the dishes,” she said. “You’re still eating, don’t mind me, I can wait.”

  She perched on the end of the sofa, darting surreptitious fascinated looks in my direction. I felt awkward chewing in the spotlight of her gaze, knowing the reason for her sudden interest lay above us, cooling fast. No longer hungry, I lowered my half-eaten piece of toast, and avoided her eyes. Then I started eating again; Morgan needed me fully functional. Chewing doggedly, I saw a patch of blood on my trousers below the knee and crossed my legs to hide it.

  “The snow looks like it’s easing off,” Sue said. “Will you be going today?”

  “Yup,” said Morgan. He crammed the last of his toast into his mouth, stacked our plates on the tray and handed them to Sue. “Thanks,” he said dismissively.

  She fussed about a bit, tidying the table, ran out of things to do and had to go.

  “Maybe she was hoping we’d tip her.” Morgan got out Mike’s key ring and swung it round his finger. “I’ve got the keys to five sleds here, the Polaris, Eddie’s, Hong’s, Mike’s and Serena’s. What shall we do with them?”

  “You said you’d give Serena hers back.”

  “I did.”

  “That’ll leave us with four …” An idea came to me. Morgan read my mind with disconcerting ease.

  “Oh no, Tori, you can’t be serious. You’re not thinking of taking that bunch of losers south with us?”

  “Why not?”

  “What are you like?” His eyes crinkled and he began to laugh, then he grabbed me and kissed me, toppling us sideways on to the sofa. We were still horizontal some minutes later and thinking of moving to the bedroom when a man came through the doorway, young and skinny with a skimpy beard and veiled eagerness in his eyes. We broke apart and sat up.

  “You must be Tori and Morgan. Hi. I’m Scott, from Buzz Weekly, that’s Strata’s news sheet, I expect you’ve seen copies of it round the place.” He produced a camera. “D’you mind?”

  While Morgan and I exchanged glances, the camera clicked. I ran my fingers through my hair, Morgan shrugged. Scott took a few more photos of us from different angles, then some shots of the tracks on the window, whistling under his breath.

  “This is a big story,” he said with relish. “I reckon the paper’ll run to eight or ten pages this week, and I’m hoping to bring it out this evening instead of tomorrow morning. This is the biggest news since the food poisoning outbreak. Bigger, no one died then.” He dragged a chair over so he could sit opposite us, put away the camera and got out a notebook and pen. “We’ve never had a killing before, and now two. Everyone’s talking about it, so I want to get the story out while it’s hot. You’ll get a free copy, of course. Two copies. Now, can I just ask you a few questions?”

  “I’ll give you a statement,” said Morgan, his voice flat. “Mike tried to shoot me, Tori came to help and was attacked by Hong, she stabbed him to get away and saved my life. Randall shot Mike and pushed his body off the roof. Now I’m afraid we have things to do.” He stood.

  Scott’s eyes widened and he spoke faster. “Can you tell me why Mike wanted to kill you, and how it felt, being unarmed facing a man with a gun?”

  Morgan shook his head. “Sorry. C’mon, Tori.”

  I got up and followed him out of the room, Scott pursuing us. “D’you know where he got the gun? Had he tried to kill you before? When are you leaving Strata? If you could give me a few personal details, a bit of background, how long you’ve been together … it would literally only take a few minutes.”

  This seemed harmless enough, but he’d be bound to pursue it further, and I really didn’t want to discuss what had happened with a stranger. I didn’t want to discuss it with anyone. Morgan ignored him and kept between us. While we waited for the lift Scott tried to change our minds. “I want to help you guys. This is your chance to get your side of the story out, to get public opinion on your side, to tell people why Randall shouldn’t turn you away from Strata.”

  “Randall can do what he likes. We were leaving anyway.”

  “So he did tell you to go?”

  Morgan glowered at him. “Fuck off.” The lift arrived, its doors opened and Morgan ushered me in.

  Scott called, “How do you feel, Tori, knowing you’ve killed a man?”

  He tried to step into the lift after us, but Morgan swivelled and grabbed his lapels, yanking him forwards and up until their faces were only inches apart. He growled, “She feels a hell of a lot better than you will if you ask one more dumb-ass question.”

  Scott paled. “Okay, okay.”

  Morgan let him go and he backed away. The lift doors closed. Morgan was still scowling. “Douchebag.”

  I took his hand and squeezed it. “Where are we going?”

  “To raid Mike’s flat.”

  Ice Diaries ~ Lexi Revellian

  CHAPTER 30

  Goodbye to Strata

  We got out of the lift on the sixteenth floor, and Morgan went to a door and knocked. After a moment, footsteps approached on the other side.

  “Who is it?” Mac’s voice.

  “Morgan.”

  Pause. “What d’you want?”

  “Spare parts.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes.” Another pause. Morgan rolled his eyes. “You might as well open up. I can bust this lock.”

  Mac opened the door and stood unfriendly in the doorway, eyeing us. Behind him was the living room and a glass wall with a view of the Shard and a smaller cluster of City buildings including the Gherkin. I realized the fact that I could see them meant the snow was tailing off; we’d be able to leave.

  Mac turned away. “Mike’s bedroom’s that one.” He jerked a thumb towards a closed door. Through the other bedroom door were signs of packing; a rucksack and things laid out on the floor.

  “Leaving?” said Morgan.

  “Aye.”

  “Alone?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then you’ll only want one trailer. Where are the rest?” Mac stared at him through narrowed eyes. Morgan said impatiently, “They’re no good to you. I won’t take yours. How could I anyway, you can’t pull two trailers with one sled. Here, have the other key to your Yamaha.” He sorted through Mike’s key ring, slid one off and held it out.

  Mac grunted and took it. “Inside a flat in that council high rise, round the far side.”

  He retreated to his room and shut the door as though he wanted nothing more to do with us. We went into Mike’s bedroom. It was very orderly, except for the box of spares which had clearly been rifled by Mac, and the parts he didn’t need strewn over the floor. Morgan sorted through them, then put most back in the box. He found the Semtex under the bed – less than before, Mac must have helped himself – and laid it in the box with the parts. The detonators took some time to find. Mike ha
d hidden them in the chest of drawers, the space behind the bottom drawer. While we were searching we came across the ammunition for the Glock.

  “Might as well have it.” Morgan put the cartridges with the other things and picked up the box. “Let’s go.”

  “Aren’t you going to look for the gold?”

  “I’d forgotten.” He glanced around; there was very little furniture in the room, and we’d been through it all looking for the detonators. We went into the bathroom. I opened the mirrored cupboard; it was crammed with packets and bottles, painkillers, antacids, laxatives, cough medicines, eye drops, ear drops and antiseptic creams. There were several types of earplugs and various prescription drugs; antibiotics, sleeping pills, morphine and Viagra. None of them any help to Mike now. I helped myself to the more useful stuff. Meanwhile Morgan had lifted the lid off the cistern to reveal a small backpack.

  “That’s not all of it,” I said, remembering the huge heavy rucksack he’d arrived with.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He took the bag back to the light and tipped its contents on the floor. Pirate gold, glittering in the sun; coins, torcs and enamelled Celtic buckles, a fabulous Gothic chalice, modern jewellery sparkling with precious stones, all tangled up together and spilling over the carpet. Treasure; not a film prop, the real thing. Impossible not to say, “Ooh …”

  He rummaged around, then picked up a gold and pearl necklace, Victorian, with pearls set in each link and pendant flowers. “How about this?”

  I smiled. “It’s lovely. For me?”

  “Yes. I want you to have something special. Pick out what you want, rings, earrings, whatever. I’m leaving the rest. I think you were right, it’s dead weight. We don’t need it.”

  I chose a fabulous Celtic torc bracelet, thick twisted gold, then saw another more elaborate one, like knotted rope. They were heavy and had the unmistakeable rich colour of nearly pure gold. I put one on each wrist. “Which do you like best?”

  “Take both and decide later,” said Morgan.

  I added a ring with Alexander the Great’s head on it, one with a red seal and a third with a fabulous amethyst. After that a mourning ring, black enamel on gold, and a necklace with beads, Roman or Victorian, I couldn’t decide. Morgan smiled at my childish glee sorting through the loot.

  I wore one of the bracelets and pocketed the rest of the jewellery I’d chosen. Something occurred to me. “What day is it?”

  “Monday.”

  “That means it’s Sunday Nina Time, and it’s Toby’s christening today.” I looked at my watch; it was only quarter to eight. I felt as if we’d been up for hours. “We could go.”

  “Why not? We’ve got to collect the Polaris, if Mike didn’t torch it.”

  Mac had gone by the time we left the flat. We found the trailers where he had said they were, hitched them to the sleds and brought them round to the front of Strata. We got our stuff together ready to go, then went to the Hall. There were only a handful of people around compared to the night before, but every single one of them stared avidly at us. Word had spread. Serena was huddled on a sofa in the corner, her possessions at her feet and a blanket around her shoulders, drinking coffee. With no make-up and her hair tied back she looked young and waif-like. Morgan handed her both keys to her sled and told her the spare parts were in Mike’s flat. I gave her what was left of the greenies Ginger had given me, which we wouldn’t need.

  Her face brightened. “Thanks, that’s awesome.”

  I said, “You’ll be able to move back into the flat. Mac’s leaving too, he told us. He was packing.”

  Serena nodded. “I heard about … what happened on the roof and everything. Scott told me, he wanted background stuff on Mike. I couldn’t believe it at first. It must have been dreadful for you … Are you leaving now?”

  “Yup. We’ve just got to find Randall before we go,” Morgan said.

  “Then back home to Toby’s christening,” I added.

  “Ooh, can I come with you?” Serena’s eyes were hopeful. “I’d love a break from here. And I want to keep out of Randall’s way for a bit in case he’s blaming me because I was sponsoring you and there was trouble.” She looked like someone’s kid sister. It seemed odd I’d thought her sophisticated when we first met, and Morgan had her down as a schemer. We’d been misled by her surface gloss, I suppose.

  “Of course you can,” I got in quickly before Morgan could say no.

  “Fab. Shall I show you where Randall’s flat is?” She glanced at the greenies in her hand. “I’ll just get a sandwich on the way.”

  While she was being served at the counter (no queue this early) Morgan suggested he went alone to collect the gun. I agreed, relieved; I didn’t want to see Randall again. I told him I’d wait where I was in the Hall. I’d been there only a few minutes when someone sat beside me on the sofa and roused me from my thoughts. David. At first he said nothing, just gazed at me, his expression sombre, even doom-laden.

  Mildly irritated, I said, “What?”

  “I have to ask you … when I went to the turbine room with Randall, the first thing we saw was Hong.”

  I looked away. He was going to talk about it, and I didn’t want him to.

  “I did what I could to stop the bleeding, but even if I’d had the right equipment I think it would have been too late. Mac left once he was dead. He didn’t say much to me. I heard two shots and Randall came down from the roof.” David hesitated. “I asked him if you were all right and he said you were. Then he told me that while I was trying to save Hong Mac said you’d stabbed him. Look at me, Tori.” Reluctantly I met his gaze. “I can’t believe it. Whoever did it knew exactly what he was doing, a long cut to the femoral artery. You couldn’t do that by chance. It was Morgan, wasn’t it? You were covering up for him in case Randall shot him too.”

  I shook my head. “Mac was there. He saw what happened. Morgan hasn’t killed anyone. It was me. I didn’t mean to. Pure bad luck – or good luck depending how you look at it.”

  David saw I was telling the truth; he sighed and his shoulders slumped. “I was so sure. I couldn’t believe you’d …” He let the sentence trail away.

  We sat quietly side by side for a bit, then he broke the silence. “So you’re going south with him and I won’t see you again.”

  “Yup.”

  His hand reached out and grasped mine. “I mind that.”

  I pulled my hand free. “You’ve got Katie and Tessa.” Haven’t we had this conversation already?

  “I’d rather have you. I think back to that year we had before all this started … we should have stayed together, gone looking for our parents together. I know I shouldn’t say this, but I keep getting this crazy image of us riding a snowmobile, going south.” He paused, his remembered greenish eyes looking deep into mine. “Why not? We could, you know. Just leave everything and everybody behind. Run away, just the two of us, and start again.”

  No point explaining how I felt; he lost me the day he made love to Katie. And I did not approve of his proposal to abandon little Tessa. He hadn’t a hope of persuading me, but that wouldn’t stop him trying. So instead I said, “How much do you know about sled engines?”

  “I’m a doctor. You know I’m hopeless with anything mechanical.”

  “Not like Morgan, then. He’s a whiz with engines. The sled’s more likely to need fixing than I am on a two thousand mile journey.”

  As I’d hoped, my pragmatism left him speechless. I looked towards the entrance. Morgan came round the corner, his eyes searching for me; familiar and heart-warming, bringing a smile to my face. I stood.

  “Good luck, David. I hope everything works out for you.”

  I crossed the room towards Morgan and whatever the future held without a backward glance, resigning David to Katie and the past.

  The three sleds zoomed across the fresh powdery snow, sunlight dazzling our eyes. I rode Mike’s sled. I remembered the time I’d seen and coveted the ACE at the Gherkin, never expecting it would one day be mine. T
hree trailers bounced behind; Serena had brought hers and all her possessions, I felt sure, just in case Morgan relented and let her go south with us.

  Before we’d gone far I slowed my sled, turned and stopped for a last fleeting view of Strata. Ginger had got all three turbines working again; their blades turned briskly in the southwest wind. Everything was back to normal.

  I thought about Randall. The summary justice he’d dealt out had shocked me, but in a land without law you could make a case for it. He was responsible, among other things, for the safety of the residents, for keeping the peace in Strata; Mike had shot him and tried to shoot Morgan; wherever he went he would cause trouble for someone. Randall had courage, the way he had faced Mike armed with the Glock. Then after being shot he’d done the exact same thing with Morgan – and told us to leave, when if Morgan had taken it amiss he could have thrown Randall off the building. I was sorry he didn’t approve of me; sorry to be persona non grata in Strata.

  The silly rhyme made me smile, and suddenly my spirits lifted. I’d been fretting about the faint buzzing in my ears but now I resolved not to worry about it. I could hear perfectly well in spite of the tinnitus; it was mild; I told myself that even if permanent it was not a big deal. We were alive, Mike was no longer a threat, we had snowmobiles and I was going to see my friends. Morgan had noticed I wasn’t behind him; he circled and came to fetch me.

  I turned and followed him towards what I still thought of as home.

  Ice Diaries ~ Lexi Revellian

  CHAPTER 31

  Toby’s christening

  I wasn’t sure of the time of the christening, nor the venue. When we climbed the stairs to Claire and Paul’s no one was in, so I guessed it must be happening at Archie and Nina’s. As soon as we got to Shakespeare Tower I leaped from my sled in order to arrive first, pausing in front of the terrace to take in the scene before they saw me. Everyone stood around in Nina’s living room, dressed in smarter clothes than usual. Greg wore a cream cable-knit sweater I hadn’t seen him in before. Archie had put a white cloth over the table beneath the carved crucifix, and placed a silver bowl of water (the one Nina had floated flowers in for her dinner party) between two candles. Claire was in the centre of the group, holding Toby wrapped in a white baby blanket. For some silly reason my eyes filled with tears.