All The Things You Have To Burn (Grey Corp Book 1)

by Abbey, Kit

  Chapter 51.

  A few hours that felt more to William like years passed with no sound but the constant humming of the lights. The sudden click, click, click of heels on the concrete floor was like thunder, and William sat up quickly.

  It was Rowan, in red heels and a short dress.

  “Aren’t you cold?” William asked.

  Rowan shrugged. “Here,” she said. She tossed a sandwhich, wrapped in shrink wrap, followed by a juice box. Apple flavour.

  William knew he should be hungry. He wasn’t.

  “What have they done to me?”

  She ran an idle finger up and down one of the bars.

  “Madeline took your powers away.”

  “Are they’re gone forever? Can I have them back?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” William wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself, for all the good it did. “So, that’s my punishment then? For letting Daisy get away?”

  He’d been able to Illude for barely a year, and yet right now he felt the absence of his power keenly, like a man looking at the bloody stump where his hand used to be.

  “No,” said Rowan, “that’s not your punishment. That was just to make sure you’re not able to pull any tricks and escape your punishment.”

  “Escape my… Is this my punishment then? This cell?” William could feel himself growing slightly panicked, “is it always going to be this cold?”

  Rowan rolled her eyes. “Calm down, idiot. This is a holding cell. They’re just keeping you here until the time comes.”

  William wanted to scream. He was cold and scared and miserable and he wanted to pelt Rowan with rocks or dead mice until she gave him a straight answer. He eyed the sandwich and juice and considered throwing those at her, but was pretty sure that while he was not hungry now, he would be later.

  “And when will that be?” he asked, trying to stay calm.

  Rowan shrugged. “I’m not up to date to date with the lunar cycle. I guess it can’t be any longer than a month right?”

  William threw his juice at her.

  “Hey,” said Rowan, “I didn’t have to bring that down here for you, or the blanket.”

  She kicked drink back into the cell.

  “Well why did you then?” yelled William. “I wouldn’t even be down here if it wasn’t for you! This is your fault! You could have let me go!”

  Rowan’s face darkened and she knelt down to the same level as William. “No, you listen to me,” she said. “This is your own damn fault, you hear me? You let the well go. What did you think would happen? A slap on the wrist? A stern talking to?”

  “Do you keep calling her the well so you can pretend she’s not a little girl?”

  Rowan scowled.

  “You could have let me go,” repeated William.

  “And then I’d be the one in there instead of you, and you’re not worth it you little shit. Don’t you dare try and act like it’s my fault you’re in there, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

  William scrubbed at his eyes with a dirty hand. “I couldn’t let you take her away from her Mother, I just couldn’t do it.”

  Rowan shook her head at him, “well maybe that makes you a better person than me, or maybe it just makes you an idiot.”

  “My money’s on idiot,” muttered William.

  Rowan stood up, and dusted her knees with her hands, even though they hadn’t touched the floor.

  “When the punishment is over,” said William quickly before she left, “will they give me my powers back?”

  “When the punishment is over,” said Rowan, “you’ll be dead.”

  Chapter 52.

  Days passed, possibly even weeks. William stopped looking at his watch; each time the hour hand passed by the twelve he felt a little worse.

  Rowan didn’t return, but Francis Filk did hobble down a few times to poke more food through the bars of his cell. None of it was of quite the same standard as the sandwhich Rowan had provided. A cold meat pie (still frozen in the middle), a plate of congealed custard, a jar of vegemite. But after his initial loss of appetite William found that he was ravenous, and he ate it all.

  He tried asking Filk questions, but the bespectacled man had either suffered a recent and tragic accident which had left him deaf, or was a world class champion when it came to ignoring people. He wouldn’t even talk about his sword collection.

  It wasn’t long before William ran out of ways to pass the time. He counted the chips in the walls, the cracks on the roof, the stains on the floor. He sang Bob Dylan songs to himself until he lost his voice. He tried to remember the words to nursery rhymes he hadn’t thought about in years, he tried to remember the names of all the characters on Home and Away, (which had been Janet’s favourite show). He made up haikus and limericks, he practised the alphabet backwards until he could recite it as fluently as forwards, he used his hands to bang out a drum solo on the bars again and again. He practised handstands and back flips and front flips. He paced, he did sit ups and push ups and star jumps and cartwheels.

  And sometimes he did nothing. And it was in these times that he felt the absence of his Illuding powers, like a frozen vice closing slowly around his lungs, like a cold eel swimming through his veins. It overshadowed whatever worry he felt about his upcoming punishment, like a comet growing slowly bigger in the sky it overshadowed everything.

  He tried to avoid doing nothing.

  Chapter 53.

  “Wake up, Mr. Black.”

  William woke up. Mr. Grey stood outside his bars, starring down at him with an unreadable expression.

  “Hey,” said William from his place on the floor, “where’s Nobody?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for just me.”

  William stood up. The sight of Mr. Grey all alone was deeply unsettling. He just didn’t look right without his twin, it was like looking at half a person. He found that he didn’t really have anything left inside of himself to devote to being curious. He knew that Mr. Grey’s presence here meant his punishment was now less a thing of the future and more a thing of the now, and it was this fact that every part of him was fixating on. Despite the cold of the cell William found he had begun to sweat.

  “You must feel terrible, Mr. Black,” said Mr. Grey. “By all accounts, having one’s powers removed is excruciating. Most are driven insane by the experience. You could, I dare say, construe that as a compliment to your strength of mind and will.”

  “You could, I dare say, fuck off and die,” said William.

  Mr. Grey smiled at him. “We are not heartless,” he said, “not at all. We understand that you are young, Mr. Black, and as such susceptible to bouts of, shall we say, less than wise decision making. We understand that the transition from the life of a civilian to the life of an employee if not always an easy one.” Mr. Grey began to slowly pace in front of the bars. “We understand that a lot was asked of you, with little information offered. We understand that you have undergone a lot lately, what with Mr. Jones’ unfortunate actions. We understand that Rowan was not, perhaps, the mentor we would have hoped for. We understand these things Mr. Black, we do.” He stopped pacing and turned to face William. “Your Illuding abilities Mr. Black, they really were quite remarkable. This is why we are willing to offer you a second chance.”

  William blinked. “A second chance?”

  “Indeed.” He paused, and William made an impatient noise. “All we ask is that you apologise for your actions and aid us in recovering the well, and in keeping it recovered.”

  He paused again, staring intently at William. “If you do these things, Mr. Black, your powers will be within your control once more.”

  “Wait, what?” William stepped up to the bars, “you can give them back?”

  “Indeed.”

  “But, but,” William gripped the cell bars, his knee suddenly weak, “Rowan, she said that it couldn’t be done. That once they’re gone, they’re gone. I
can have my powers back?”

  “Miss Jameson-Smith,” said Mr. Grey, “does not know as much as she would have the general populace believe.” He reached through the bars to rest a slim hand on William’s shoulder. “Yes, William, you can have them back.”

  William wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion that was swelling inside of him. Relief? Panic? “All I have to do is help you get Daisy back.”

  “The well. Yes.”

  William’s grip on the bars tightened, as every other part of his self weakened. “It’s not right,” he said, quiet and pleading, “she’s just a little kid. It’s just… It’s not right. What you want to do, it’s not right.”

  “Perhaps not,” said Mr. Grey, “but it is what’s best for Grey Corp.”

  “I can’t do it,” said William. The space inside of him where his powers had been was cold. The cell outside of him was cold. The look Mr. Grey gave him was cold. William shivered.

  “Returning to the fold, and helping to uncover Daisy is option number two, Mr. Black,” said Mr. Grey, “option number one is a slow and painful death. Are you sure you want to choose that way?”

  “I think your wife had the right idea by killing herself,” said William.

  Mr. Grey’s face darkened, and William stepped hastily back. He slammed his hand once, twice against the bars and then turned and stormed away. William watched him go. He was cold

  Chapter 54.

  The next day Horace and Rowan drove him out of the city. The journey was made in silence. William let his head loll back against the seat. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the sun felt glorious against his skin. Signs of civilisation became fewer and soon they driving through dense bushland. They finally came to a stop in front of a very old looking brick building. It had only one room, and no roof, and a door of dull steel.

  Rowan waited in the car while Horace pulled him roughly from the back and pushed him towards the building. He could hear birdsong and no traffic.

  “You deserve this,” said Horace, looking as though he was considering spitting at William’s feet.

  “You’ll understand if I don’t agree with you,” said William.

  Horace decided not to spit at William’s feet. He spat in his face instead, and without another word he unlocked a door, which was shockingly thick and heavy, and pushed William inside. The door made a very finite sound when Horace closed it.

  The floor was broken concrete. Bright green shoots pushed up through the cracks. Scratched into one wall was a line from a Pink Floyd song, and leaning calmly against the other was Caspien Jones.

  They regarded one another.

  “So they tell me my punishment is death,” said William.

  Jones made no reply.

  “Are you going to kill me?”

  The sky overhead was growing dusky, and Jones looked up at it for a moment. Then he sat down, leaning back on the wall.

  “I am, yes,” he said.

  “Oh,” said William, who wasn’t sure if the frantic feeling in his chest heralded tears or laughter. “Well maybe you’ll do it properly this time.” He lent back against the wall and wondered if it was shaking, or if he was.

  “I’m surprised,” Jones eventually said, still looking at the darkening sky and not at William. “I thought Mr. Grey would offer you a second chance.”

  “He did,” said William.

  Jones eyes snapped away from the window. He stared up at William.

  “Then what are you doing in here?”

  William shrugged, clenching his shaking hands behind his back.

  “I told him to shove it.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I couldn’t do what they wanted me to!” shouted William. Seized by sudden anger, which was at least a step up from fear, he turned and kicked the wall. “She’s just a little kid, Grey Corp has no right to take her away from her mother!”

  “It’s not that bad,” said Jones. “Grey Corp will give her the kind of life her Mother couldn’t have begun to offer.”

  “No, but-”

  “When they find her again, and they will find her again eventually William, you realise that? When they find her again, she will receive the finest education, the finest medical care, the finest everything.”

  “What good would that do her if she’s dead?”

  “The boss doesn’t want her dead, you fool. A dead well is good for nothing. Assuming the kid isn’t as stupid as you are, she’ll be safer within the Grey Corp fold than without.”

  “Maybe he won’t kill her,” said William, beginning to pace the short length of the room, “maybe she’ll kill herself. Maybe you’ll kill her!”

  “What are you on about?”

  “She’s just a little kid, she won’t be able to hide it!”

  “Hide what? What are you talking about?”

  “Her powers!” William slammed a hand against the wall. “She’s like me, she can Illude in minds.”

  Jones abruptly stiffened, and stopped leaning against the wall. “What?”

  “She has powers like mine,” said William. He looked down at his fist and saw that it was bleeding. Something seemed to leave his body with the blood, and with a sigh he slumped down to the cell floor, leaning limply against the wall in contrast to Jones tense pose. “She does, I’m sure of it. And I think Rowan knows.”

  “She hasn’t said anything,” said Jones. It seems to William that he was trying very hard to keep calm.

  William shrugged. “Maybe she doesn’t remember, I did smack her in the head right after. But she, Daisy I mean, she was in my head. She knew things she couldn’t have known. She knew how my sister died, and she knew about your buddy Jude.”

  Jones clenched his jaw.

  “You’re certain about this,” he asked, his voice soft but intent.

  “Yes,” said William.

  “And Rowan knows it?”

  “Yes,” said William.

  “Damn it,” said Jones quietly. He stood up, and paced the length of the cell four times. And then he exploded. “God damn it all to fucking hell!” He slammed his fist into the cell wall, much harder than William had not long before. The only damage to the wall was a small stain the colour of Jones’ blood, but this didn’t stop him from punching it twice more. William scooted back as far as he could, until his back was pressed against the stone. “Fuck!” Jones punched the wall again, and then kicked it for good measure. He raised his first once more, but spared the wall another beating. He shut his eyes, and took a few deep breaths. He relaxed his fist and ran his fingers through his hair, streaking the silver with red. “Fuck,” he said again, but mildly this time, like a man commenting on the weather.

  Jones turned away from William and studied the cell wall, and then he looked out the window for a bit. “It’s nearly dark,” he said.

  “Is that what’s important right now,” said William. It then occurred to him that the sunlight steadily seeping from the room might well be the last sunlight he would see for the rest of his life. Suddenly the position of the sun seemed very important indeed.

  Jones looked down at him. “Could you find her again, do you think?”

  “Who, Daisy?”

  Jones nodded.

  “They took my powers away,” said William.

  “It can be undone,” said Jones. “If you had then back could you find her?”

  “Damn it, I’m not finding her for Grey Corp!” William climbed to his feet. “You may as well just hurry up and kill me already, because I’m not going to do it, ok! I’m not! I saw what happened to the last person with powers like mine, and I won’t help them do that to someone else! I…” William scrubbed furiously at his eyes, and his voice grew small. “She’s just a little kid. So just hurry up and get it over with, ok?”

  He found that he could not stop his eyes from darting frantically over the walls of the room. He wasn’t sure if he was looking for some kind of escape, or just avoiding loo
king at Jones, but either way he couldn’t stop.

  “Grey Corp will find her with or without you,” said Jones, “it will just take a bit longer without.”

  “Then what do you care if I can find her or not-”

  “You could find her first, before them.”

  William’s eyes stopped their hyperactive movement, and feeling very still he said, “not if I’m dead.”

  Jones looked at the sky, and then back to William. “If you weren’t dead, you could find her first.”

  It took William a moment to get the words out. “And then what?”

  “And then we hide her from Grey Corp.”

  “She’s already hidden.”

  “No,” said Jones, “not well enough. It might take them years, but Grey Corp will find her again. They will figure out a way. And if Rowan does know that she can Illude inside minds, they will stop at nothing. I know people, people who will be able to keep her from them permanently.”

  William pressed his hands into the wall behind him. He could feel the engraved lyrics under his fingers, and he could feel the last of the sun’s warmth pressing against his skin, and he could feel the frantic pulse of his heart.

  “How do I know this isn’t just trick?” he asked, almost pleading, “I can’t trust you.”

  In a few steps Jones spanned the length of the cell. William pressed himself harder into the wall. He tried to look away, but Jones grabbed him roughly by the chin and held his head in place. “Have I not been keeping your secret for months?” he asked quietly.

  “Not because I asked you to,” shouted William, trying and failing to pull his head free. “You were the one who forced me to keep it quiet!”

  “And aren’t you glad I did,” his tone not rising to match William’s.

  “You’re hurting me,” was all William said.

  Jones sharply released him. He rotated his shoulders and stalked to the other side of the cell.

  “We are out of time,” he said. “Are you going to help me find the girl or not?”

  William rubbed the back of his head. “Promise-

  Jude toyed with the hem of his shirt. “If something goes wrong tonight, promise me you’ll look after Rowan.”