New Reality 2: Justice

by Michael Robertson

  As Gina continued looking around the flat, she nodded. "Yes, please."

  It was impossible to stop her bottom lip shaking as she dropped the tea bag into the mug.

  Gina walked over and put her arms around her. "There, there, darling. Everything's going to be okay."

  "No, it's not. I can't make you any fucking tea."

  "That's okay."

  "No, it's not." She paused to collect herself. "I can't make you any tea because I threw Jules out of the window at the old place."

  Although she looked like she was trying to suppress it, Gina smiled. "He was an annoying little shit though, wasn't he?"

  She wanted to laugh but Marie cried harder than ever.

  ***

  After Marie had stopped crying, Gina said, "Come and live with me."

  "What?"

  "Come and live with me. I have the space and the baby needs to be somewhere better than this."

  There still hadn't been a kick. Marie shook her head. "No, it's fine. I need to make this place a home. I need to have somewhere for Frankie to come to when he gets out of New Reality."

  "When he gets out?"

  "Yes, I'm going to find a way to get him out, if it kills me."

  "How?"

  "I'm still going to find out what Doug's hiding from the government. When I do, I'll have the fat prick over a barrel."

  Gina placed her gun on the worktop with a heavy thud. "I'll do everything in my power to help. I'm going to leave this here for you. Make sure you carry it with you at all times."

  Gina then removed a large torch from her inside pocket. "I thought you could use this too. It's pretty gloomy out there. I need to get going now, Marie. Will I see you Monday?"

  Marie nodded and bit back her tears.

  After Gina left, Marie picked up the gun and stared at it. It was heavy and cold. The horrible object was now an essential part of her life.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  As Marie watched Frankie on the screen in front of her, she yawned again. With each passing moment, her head felt heavier and her eyes watered. She'd have to move away from the screen at some point.

  Huddled in a cold doorway with an old blanket wrapped around him, Frankie sat staring into space and shivering. Not only had they taken his child and partner, but they'd taken his home from him. How long would it be before they took his sanity too?

  Another yawn took a hold of Marie and, even after rubbing her eyes, the image of her lover on the monitor remained blurred. The first couple of nights in the Single Mum's block had been rough. Last night a scream fell down the centre of the tower block and woke her up. The thud of the woman hitting the ground ran through the building and she felt it as she lay on her thin mattress. It was hard getting back to sleep after that. How long would it be before she was leapfrogging the railings and hurtling towards the hard floor herself?

  A shove crashed into the back of Marie's chair and she smelled fried meat. Why hadn't she noticed him sooner? She whipped her headphones off and spun around. She needed to focus more. It just wouldn't do to have the stupid idiot sneaking up on her.

  As Doug picked at his teeth with the long nail on his little finger, he looked past her at the screen. "So you're watching him then?"

  Although Marie's mouth opened and closed, no words came out.

  "Don't worry; it's fascinating to see how we can break a man. I'd be watching it all day if I were you. This is a lull period where we let him pull himself from the gutters—literally—before we destroy him again."

  As she stared at the vulgar man, Marie remained silent.

  "Anyway, dear, we have another tour starting in five minutes and I want you to come with me again."

  "But what about…?" She pointed at the screen while looking up at Doug.

  "Don't worry; we're not going to do anything until tomorrow. Are you worried about missing out?"

  "I am. I want to see the rat get what's coming to him." Just saying the words tore at her heart. "But I don't want to miss another tour with you. The last one was masterful."

  Doug stood proud and looked around the room as if he was making sure everyone heard her comment.

  This was the opportunity she'd been waiting for. Doug was going to fuck up, and she was going to be there when it happened.

  ***

  Another week and another inch added to her expanding girth and Marie felt it pressing on the corset as they walked towards the prison's entrance. It wouldn't be long before she was too large for it; this tour had to count. Marie wouldn't be here much longer, and she had to find something to blackmail Doug with. If they kept pushing Frankie, he wouldn't last in New Reality. If she was going to give birth to a dead baby, she needed him at her side.

  When they arrived at the prison's front gates, there were two council workers waiting for them. Thankfully, it was two men; the last thing Marie needed was any more time with Florence.

  With his usual broad grin and his loud and obnoxious voice bordering on shouting, Doug held his fat hand out. "Doug Rixon; pleased to meet you."

  The smaller of the two men took his hand. "John Balmy and this is Samson Smythe."

  What were they, a comedy duo or something? On another day, Marie may have smirked but there wasn't much to smile about at the moment, no matter how ridiculous these men's names were.

  "Florence was so impressed with the tour you did for them, she insisted we come and look too."

  After winking at Marie, Doug's smile broadened. "And I was mightily impressed with Florence, John. Fine woman!"

  "Quite."

  The silence hung awkwardly and everyone seemed aware of it except Doug, his usual shit-eating grin wrapped halfway around his head.

  Finally, John said, "The tour?"

  "Of course," Doug said. "Step this way."

  Like before, Marie took up the rear, following the party through the large front doors into the first ward. It was the best place to be. If she kept her head down and let Doug do all the talking, she could focus on the ward and no one would pay her any attention.

  ***

  Once they were inside, the reek of disinfectant was as strong as ever. She may have been watching the men, but Marie zoned out from their conversation and removed a kirby grip from her long hair. She then dropped it on the floor and kicked it so it was close to a wall. No one would see it there.

  When the men set off, she followed them, smiling every time one of them looked around at her. For the rest of the time, Marie searched the occupied beds and looked for Frankie.

  When they were nearly at the end, there was no Frankie, but the man with the tattoos was in the same bed as before. Didn't they get that someone so identifiable could give the game away? Or was it a genuine mistake last time? Were there multiple wards? Was it a simple error that landed them on the same one three times in a row? The odds were longer than the unemployment queues on the estate, but it was possible.

  Marie looked up to see the three men had made it to the other end of the ward and were waiting for her to catch up.

  ***

  Once they were in the food room, the loud whir of churning sludge made it impossible for Marie to hear Doug. Hypnotised by the giant whisk that slowly turned the liquid—which looked more like a huge vat of semen than it did food—Marie was hit with the memory of the chalky taste. If Doug made her drink it again, she was going to vomit it all over his shiny shoes. That would teach him.

  After a minute or so, Doug handed out gas masks and moved on to the place where they incinerated the nappies. There was a mask for Marie this time, and when he pulled the door open, a blast of stale heat shot out. Despite the mask, the air still left an aftertaste of burned plastic on the back of Marie's tongue.

  After the council workers had gone in, Doug held the door open for Marie to follow.

  Instead, she removed her mask and twisted her face. "This thing isn't working. I'll stay out here."

  A heavy shrug and Doug followed the men in, letting the door close behind him.

&nb
sp; By herself in the large feeding room, Marie looked at the host of doors surrounding them. The muscles in her legs twitched, urging her to go through one of them. Any one of the doors could reveal Doug's secrets to her; she might even find Frankie.

  Before she could move, the door to the incinerator room slid open, and Doug emerged with the two officials. They brought the smell of burned excrement with them.

  Doug followed the same routine as before. Once they'd removed their gas masks, he spun the outside of the room and led them out into another ward. Marie took up the rear once again.

  Now they'd left the room with the vat of food in it, Marie could finally hear Doug—not that she wanted to though.

  "Once you've seen one ward, you've seen them all. We have several of these large rooms, housing all of the inmates in our care. Every ward looks exactly the same."

  When Marie's eyes settled on the bald man with the tattoos, she bit her tongue. That's because they are all the same, aren't they, Dougie? What are you hiding, fat man?

  Doug led them down the room. "Would you like to see more wards with inmates in them? I mean, the only reason would be so you could get a bit more time away from the office, but I'm game if you are?"

  Say yes. Go on, put the fat bastard on the spot and say yes.

  When John spoke, Marie physically sank.

  "No thanks, Doug."

  "Dougie, please."

  "No thanks, Dougie. I can see why Florence was so impressed the other day. I too will file an outstanding report. What you have here is truly remarkable."

  On their way out of the ward, Marie looked over to the skirting board and there was her kirby grip, lying exactly where she'd kicked it. Before her time ran out at Rixon, Doug would be letting Frankie out of New Reality. When Marie had the missing piece of the puzzle, Doug would be doing exactly what she told him to do.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  After work, Marie sat on the bus stop wall and watched the other people gathered there. Furrowed brows and vacant stares said more about returning to the estate than a million words ever could. Too caught up in their own worries, none of them seemed interested in her.

  It gave her the opportunity to slip her hand into the bush behind her. While keeping her eyes on the people, Marie found the cold metal barrel of the gun. It wasn't sensible to leave a gun lying around, but it was even less sensible to try and take the thing into the prison with her, even if there was a risk of someone finding it and dusting it for prints.

  When she'd brought it close enough to the wall, she lowered her bag behind her and transferred the gun into it from the flowerbed.

  Just as she'd finished, the bus rounded the next corner. She stood up and brought her bag with her.

  The hard hiss of the air brakes made Marie jump and she yelped. Her face flushed when a few of the commuters stared at her. Spot the newbie! She returned their attention with interest and each one of them turned to face the bus when the doors opened. If she was going to live on the estate, she needed to hold her own.

  Marie kept her focus on the dirty floor as she walked up the aisle. Just before sitting down, she glanced up to see every pair of eyes on her.

  When she slid onto her seat, her corset forced some of the air from her lungs as it wrapped a tight grip on her ribcage. A tug on the laces at the front and she breathed out as the corset loosened.

  Despite the hot and dusty environment, she enjoyed the fullness of her breath and stared straight ahead. All she wanted to do was get home without any grief. Was that too much to ask?

  She then undid her corset a little more and rubbed her stomach. There was still no movement from the baby.

  ***

  A good five minutes passed, and although Marie had looked ahead the entire time, she couldn't ignore what she saw in her peripheral vision. When she turned around, she stared back at the ratty old crone. Most of the other people were going about their business, but this woman was twisted with hate and she was directing it all Marie's way.

  The first thing Marie did was slip her hand into her bag, her pulse settling when she gripped the gun. She stared back at the woman again. A quick draw and squeeze of the soft trigger would halt that stare in an instant. That would kill the nosy bitch's curiosity.

  Marie continued to untie her corset. She lived in Single Mum's block; she didn't need to hide her pregnancy here.

  "You're a drain on the system."

  Did she really just say that? As Marie stared at the woman, she didn't reply.

  "Bringing another life into this city while claiming welfare."

  A quick glance showed that everyone had returned their attention to Marie. "Wait a minute, love, but aren't you heading to the estate too?"

  "And?"

  Marie let go of the gun and jabbed her index finger at her temple. "Are you thick or something?"

  "Don't call me thick."

  "Make it harder for me then. We're all a drain on the system, you fucking idiot. That's why we're on this bus. I'm sure no one on here's heading back to the estate through choice. And I'm sure no one is paying rent to live there."

  When the woman didn't reply, Marie shook her head and looked at the other passengers. Most of them had already looked away.

  Then she saw the men at the back and her breath caught in her throat. There were four of them. Broad shouldered and silent, they sat there unmoving. They looked like four reapers who had come to collect. Suddenly, the ratty woman and her ill-informed opinions were much less important. She couldn't hurt Marie like these men could.

  Marie turned back to face the front, removed her corset and stuffed it into her bag. She then slipped her hand in again.

  Her grip on her gun was sure. Hopefully, her aim would be as true.

  ***

  The rest of the journey continued without incident. The ratty woman continued watching Marie, and Marie pretended to stare back at her. But it was the men in her peripheral vision that had her attention now. Unlike the other passengers on the bus, they just sat there, all four of them, staring directly at Marie.

  ***

  When the bus stopped, Marie focused in front of her and stepped from the vehicle. After the whoosh of the closing doors, she turned around. Fuck it! The four men were the only other people to have got off the bus. Now she saw them on their feet, Marie trembled. The smallest of the men stood at least six feet tall. They held far enough back for their faces to be hidden by shadows. Not that she needed to see their features; she already knew they were staring straight at her.

  For a second, none of the muscles in Marie's body worked and her tight bladder ached. Then—as if a pulse of electricity had surged through her—she jolted to life, spun on her heel, and darted into the first alleyway.

  The sounds of their heavy boots played a staccato against the pavement behind her as they followed.

  It was hard to be quick with her pulse as frantic as it was, but Marie held onto her rapid breaths and made it around the first corner. At that moment, she was out of their line of sight, and they started speaking; the syllables of their deep voices barrelled down the alleyway after her like cannon balls.

  "Do you think she'll scream?"

  "Like a pig."

  With the sound of their laughter chasing her, Marie pulled her gun from her bag and flicked the safety off.

  "I bet Lance shoots his load first. He's such a fucking virgin."

  She rested her finger on the trigger.

  "Although, when we cut the last one, it seemed to have the opposite effect on the boy. I think I even saw him cry, eh, Lance?"

  "Fuck off."

  The men laughed again, the tormenting cackles mixing with the stomping boots in the echo chamber that was the tight alleyway.

  Another sharp turn and Marie glanced behind. They were still following her, but she couldn't see them at all. Now where was her block? She couldn't get lost now.

  "But seriously, this one looks like a tidy ride."

  Marie kept a hold of her gun, her hand shaking o
n the trigger, and she broke into a gentle jog, her pulse sounding in her ears.

  "I think we should take her back to your place, Goliath."

  "Why my place?"

  "You've got those old pipes at yours. We could tie 'er to 'em."

  When she rounded the next bend, Marie found herself in the shadow of the huge, ugly block that she now called home.

  One final glance behind and she sprinted to the door, kicked it open, and darted into the darkness. She hid in a shadow just inside the doorway.

  The enclosed space threw her own rapid breaths back at her as she watched the door, her gun at the ready.

  It seemed to take an age, but when it was finally opened, Marie raised her weapon. "Stop fucking following me!"

  A tired looking mother with a toddler put her arm across the front of her child and stared at Marie.

  "Sorry. I was being followed, and I thought you were them. Sorry."

  The mother dipped a gentle nod at her, uncovered her child and walked away.

  Was this what estate life was like? Someone pointed a gun at you and you barely battered an eyelid. How could she raise a child in this?

  Marie watched the door for another minute or so. When no one else came in, she lowered her gun and set off, zigzagging through the used nappies on the floor.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Knock, knock.

  Marie stared at the back of her door. Was it the men? Did they know where she lived? Had they followed her home?

  Knock, knock.

  On her way to the door, she lifted the gun from the work surface. Before she moved any farther, she twisted it to the side to make sure the safety was off.

  When she got to the door, she pinched the back of the lock, the shake in her hand making it rattle as she held onto it.