by Amy Lord
I was there when Elizabeth brought the message. She knocked on my office door as I was packing up my papers. The ‘missing’ poster sat on my desk like an accusation. I waved her inside, closing the door as she hovered in the middle of the room, backpack dangling from one shoulder. She unzipped her parka, her cheeks rosy.
Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out a scrap of paper and handed it to me.
‘From Caleb,’ she murmured.
I unfolded it and read the message. It only said:
Three days.
Be ready.
I looked at Elizabeth, my eyebrows raised.
‘Monday night,’ she said softly. ‘That’s all you need to know.’
Everything around me seemed to become still. I blinked away an image of the dead man, tried instead to picture Simon’s face; smell the scent of his skin, his hair. Three days; so close and yet, all that time.
I tucked the note into my jeans. I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eye; I might dissolve at any moment.
As she passed me on her way to the door, her fingers brushed against mine. ‘It’ll be okay.’ She squeezed my hand. ‘I’ll come for you when it’s time.’
Outside, it was beginning to snow. I drifted towards the window, pressed my palm against the cold glass. The main door to the building opened below me and Elizabeth jogged down the steps, tugging the hood of her parka around her face. Her feet left impressions in the dusty snow as she hurried away.
I shrugged my arms into my coat and wrestled my bags into a position where I could comfortably carry them. I paused, about to leave the room. Turning back, I screwed up the ‘missing’ poster and threw it into the wastepaper basket. I shuffled out of the office, switching off the light. There was no need to lock the door; that might imply I had something to hide.
The empty corridor stretched out ahead of me as I made my way to the stairs, spiralling downwards beneath the dull glow of the emergency lights. I stepped out into the quad in a halo of frozen breath, snow settling in my hair.
Elizabeth’s footsteps were already barely visible, but I made a game of them, treading carefully in her imprints to distract my mind from what was to come. Three more days.
Thirty-five
The explosion shocked me from a deep sleep. I sat up in bed, clutching the covers around my chest, my eyes wide in the darkness. It took me a moment to orient myself, senses crying out.
Light flickered behind the window blinds. I slid out of bed, the floor like ice under my hot feet. Carefully I tweaked one of the panels so I could peek outside. At the junction at the end of the street, a car had been overwhelmed by flames. They burned high, reaching up into the night. As I watched, three unmarked cars screeched to a halt around it, Authorisation Bureau soldiers tumbling out, picking their way across the debris littering the road. I could hear their shouts ringing along the street.
One of them began waving his arms and I could make out a dull rumbling sound. A tank rolled around the corner, a single soldier atop it surveying the area, weapon in hand. The men circled the car frantically, but they couldn’t get close enough. I could almost feel the heat singeing my skin. I leaned closer and my breath clouded the glass. All along the street I could make out curtains twitching as my neighbours watched the drama unfold. Nobody emerged from their buildings.
It took a long time for a fire engine to arrive. By then the flames had consumed everything; only a twisted steel skeleton remained, blackened by ash. Two policemen began to haul charred bodies onto the pavement. Four of them were lined up without ceremony.
Shuddering, I let the blinds fall back into place. A faint whisper of daylight was beginning to graze the skyline. I climbed back into bed, between my now-cold sheets, and knew I wouldn’t sleep again today.
*
There was no reason for me to leave the apartment, but after a few restless hours it was becoming claustrophobic. I had little to do but stare at the clock as the minutes swept slowly by, listening to the aftermath of the explosion in the street.
Every time I closed my eyes for a second I could picture the bodies laid out on the side of the road, burned beyond recognition, hands clawing at agonised flesh. I tried to stop myself from wondering about the source of the bomb, whether Caleb was responsible.
I had to get out. Scrambling into my boots and coat, chest tight, I decided to go and buy milk. I always needed milk.
As I ran down the stairs, boots thundering on the concrete, I wrapped my scarf around my neck, feeling as though I would suffocate. Outside, I turned away from the scene of the explosion. It was beginning to snow again; powdery white flakes floated to the ground, catching in my hair.
I walked for a while, longer than I needed to. I returned with a pint of milk, shivering from the cold, the tips of my fingers turning blue. The clean-up operation was now under way and the residents of my street had begun to slink from their homes, gathering in doorways to whisper with their neighbours.
On the street corner, a woman was wailing. ‘My son, my son.’ A uniformed woman was trying awkwardly to comfort her, to block her view of the charred metal shell where her boy had died. An eerie silence consumed the street as she crumpled to the ground, snow falling around her.
A group of men from the apartment block two down were smoking outside the fire escape. As I walked by, one of them muttered something to his friend. I caught nothing but the word, ‘Lumière’. It was all I could do to stop myself turning towards him in shock. I forced myself to keep walking.
A group of tenants were standing outside my building, more brazen than the rest. They had stepped out into the open and were watching the men at work as they gathered evidence from the blast.
I was about to sneak behind them into the building when a woman who lived on the floor below turned and noticed my approach.
‘Awful isn’t it?’ she inclined her head in the direction of the car bomb.
Before I could reply, someone else said, ‘Bloody deserved it though.’ A murmur ran through the crowd.
A man spat on the ground. ‘Fucking Authorisation Bureau.’ He caught sight of me, lurking at the back of the group. ‘It was one of their commanders in the car, you know. Couple of his lackeys and the driver got blown up an’ all.’
They all watched for my reaction. A chill skittered down my spine. Why were they all looking at me? Did they know I was working with Caleb? Or that Simon had been taken? Did they think I was a sympathiser because of the major? I rarely spoke to anyone in the building.
‘I…’ Unspoken words seemed to hang in the air. Very quietly, I said, ‘Good.’
A fleeting smile worked across the man’s lips. As I turned to walk inside, the woman from downstairs reached out and squeezed my shoulder. I could feel the imprint of her hand all the way up the stairs.
*
The weekend crawled by, each unoccupied minute stretching out into eternity. By Sunday night I was pacing a groove into the floor, nerves a tight, angry knot in my stomach.
It was late when there was a soft knock at my door. I opened it a crack to find Elizabeth, peering over her shoulder.
She pushed past me into the flat. ‘Quick, close the door!’
I complied, clicking the lock shut.
Her cheeks were bright with cold and her eyes shone in the dim light.
‘What’s wrong?’
She made a small, strangled noise. ‘I was coming to give you the rest of the details for your part of the plan, but I think someone was following me.’
I stopped breathing. ‘Did you see who it was?’
She shook her head, blonde hair framing her face. ‘I’m not sure…’
I stared at her intently. ‘Tell me.’
‘I think it might have been a member of the Authorisation Bureau.’
I closed my eyes for a second and said a quiet prayer. ‘What makes you think that?’
She thought for a second. ‘Something about the way they moved. They weren’t wearing a uniform but… I could still tell.�
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I nodded. ‘Okay, where were they? Did they see you come into this building?’
‘I don’t think so. I knew he was behind me for a while, so I ducked into a couple of shops, as though I needed groceries. The second time I cut out of the back door and doubled back on myself. It was streets away from here.’
I exhaled slowly. ‘Who knew you were coming here?’
‘Nobody, just Caleb. He sent me with the message.’
‘Right, okay. Well I guess you’d better tell me and then we’ll have to get you out of here. We can’t be found together, it would ruin everything.’
She agreed. Bending down, she unzipped one of her boots and pulled out a piece of paper. ‘Here.’ She held it out to me.
I snatched the note and read it quickly, twice. The directions were simple enough. Striding into the kitchen, I switched on the gas hob and held the paper against the flame. It caught light and I flicked it into the sink, watching to make sure it burned. When there was nothing but ash, I ran the tap to flush the remains away.
‘We’d better get you out of here.’
I was about to grab my coat when there was another knock at the door. We both froze, staring at each other, eyes wide.
Get in the bathroom, I mouthed, waving my hand frantically at her. She shot across the room as I ushered her inside. As I closed the door, I glimpsed her clambering into the bath tub and sliding the shower curtain across so that she couldn’t be seen if anyone looked into the room.
Pressing my face against the front door, I squinted through the peephole. Will was waiting in the corridor, his figure distorted: a giant head and skinny body.
With a sick feeling, I unlocked the door.
‘Will!’ I pasted a cheerful smile onto my face. ‘What are you doing here?’
He gave a tight smile. ‘Sister.’ I stepped aside to let him into my home.
He strode inside, hands folded behind his back, eyes roaming around the room. He walked to the window and pulled the blinds aside, shoving the toe of his boot under the bed sharply. He peered into corners, frowning.
‘Can I help you find something?’ I asked.
He glared at me. ‘Do you have something to hide?’
I stared back at him blankly. ‘What are you talking about, William?’
He hated being addressed by his full name. His bottom lip twisted into a pout. Sometimes I forgot he was still a teenager. ‘Don’t call me that.’ The facade of policeman slipped and he was a boy again, trying to make his daddy proud.
I started to get angry. ‘Why are you here? Is it money you want, again? You should go and speak to your dad if you’re that desperate.’ I marched to the door and held it open. ‘Now if that’s all, it’s late. I’d like to go to bed.’
I willed him to leave. Despite his time in the academy, Will was still a boy, unused to dealing with women. I had hoped that by ordering him around, I’d unnerve him enough to abandon his search.
A tight little scowl on his face, he took the bait and headed to the door. I’d never noticed before, but he was so much taller than me now. He sneered at me. ‘Don’t worry, I’m going. But you’ll be seeing me again soon, dearest sister.’
I ignored the urge to slam the door shut and kept my eyes trained on his back as he started down the staircase. I watched to make sure he was gone.
With a relieved sigh, I went back inside and shut the door, leaning against it, knees trembling. A small voice called, ‘Clara?’
‘It’s okay, he’s gone. You can come out now.’
There was a shuffling noise and a bang, then Elizabeth appeared, face pale. ‘Who was it? Were they looking for me?’
‘It was my brother. He’s been training to join the Authorisation Bureau. I guess they must have fast-tracked him through the academy or something.’ I plopped onto a chair. ‘He started to poke around out here as though he was looking for something, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it was you. Last time he was here he was pretty desperate for money. I think he’s on drugs. For all I know, he was looking for something he could sell.’
She didn’t look convinced. ‘Bit of a coincidence, him showing up like this, so late at night. He could have followed me here.’
I splayed my hands in frustration. ‘I’ve no idea, Elizabeth. I can’t exactly go and ask him.’
She pulled out a chair and sat beside me. ‘So… what do we do now?’
‘I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here. That wasn’t part of Caleb’s plan anyway, was it? Do you have any friends nearby who you can stay with? It would get you off the streets.’
She thought for a moment. ‘Yeah, I know someone a couple of streets away actually.’
‘Okay.’
She stood up. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve brought any trouble to you, I was just delivering Caleb’s message.’
‘It’s fine, how could you know?’ I stopped. ‘You don’t think…’
She looked back at me, as a cold feeling crept across my skin. ‘What?’
I shook myself. ‘You don’t think they know about the plan? Why else would they be following you?’
She frowned. ‘No… they can’t. None of us would tell them and there aren’t many people who know.’
I walked her to the door. ‘I hope you’re right.’
She stepped into the corridor. ‘I’ll see you soon, Clara. Take care of yourself.’
I squeezed her arm. ‘You get home safe, okay.’
She nodded. ‘See you.’
Her feet moved more quickly down the stairs than my brother’s had. I was about to close my door when a shrill scream rang out. Without thinking I ran into the hallway and downstairs, leaving the front door wide open.
The building’s foyer was empty. I didn’t stop moving, I ran out into the street, looking quickly in each direction. There was no one there. I stood in the middle of the road, moving in a slow circle looking in every direction; there were no signs of life.
Thirty-six
My instructions were to wait for Caleb on the corner of a street about fifteen minutes’ walk from the Authorisation Bureau headquarters. I knew I’d be there too early, wired with nervous energy, drawing suspicious glances, so I circled the streets alone until it was time. Every few steps I checked over my shoulder, paranoid that someone was watching me.
I hadn’t been able to sleep after Elizabeth left. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how. It would only endanger the plan if I tried to contact Caleb before the scheduled time. I spent the whole night on the floor of my flat, curled into a ball, staring at the front door, waiting for the soldiers to pour through it.
But they never came. The day passed by in a haze of anxiety; I imagined every possible negative outcome for the rescue, convinced myself there would be mayhem and death. As the sky grew darker again, I was violently sick. The meagre contents of my stomach stared back at me from the chipped porcelain of the bathroom sink like an accusation.
I washed it away, but I couldn’t wash away the sense that something bad was going to happen. Weak and trembling, I dressed as instructed, in dark clothes and sturdy boots, a hat and scarf ready to mask as much of my face as possible.
Then it was time to leave. I took one last long look around the flat, tracing my fingertips across the smooth cotton bedcovers, which were cool from a night without sleep. I closed the door, praying that the next time I crossed the threshold Simon would be with me, his hand in mine.
The streets were quiet. The faint covering of snow had melted, leaving behind only a grey slush. My feet grew damp as the water seeped through the cracked leather. As I waited for Caleb to appear, I studied the patterns the damp left on the material.
I didn’t hear him approach or see the place he materialised from. One moment I was alone, the next his hand was resting on my shoulder. I jumped at his touch, my breath caught in a gasp.
‘It’s just me,’ he said softly.
I put a palm to my chest and tried to smile, my face twisting into a grimace instead. Caleb ga
ve me a hug. ‘Are you sure you want to do this? If it’s too much, we can go on without you. It’ll work somehow.’
I looked up at him fiercely. ‘No! I have to be a part of it. I have to see Simon again…’ Something inside me tore; a rush of emotion hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I forced it away, forced myself not to cry. ‘I have to.’
‘Okay.’ Caleb took my hand. ‘Come on, the others are waiting.’
The nausea returned as I remembered Elizabeth. His hand in mine, I held him back. I took a deep breath, my eyes drifting off to the side, unable to meet his gaze. ‘There’s something I think you should know… about Elizabeth.’
He listened as I recounted the events of the previous evening.
‘I’m so sorry, Caleb. I should have protected her; I shouldn’t have sent her back out onto the street like that.’
He shook his head. ‘Clara, you didn’t do anything wrong. You couldn’t have let her stay with you; it would have been too dangerous. And we don’t know for sure that something happened to her. One of the others might know.’
I followed him around the corner. He moved quickly, heading for the door of an old electricity substation that was partially obscured by the branches of an overgrown juniper bush. He cracked the door open and slipped inside. Taking a heavy breath, I followed.
It was dark inside; it took my eyes a moment to adjust. The floor was littered with debris and wires hung loose from the ceiling. I could make out a flash of graffiti. A shadow broke away from the wall and came towards us. It was Zeke. As he moved he dislodged a chunk of fallen masonry; a rat escaped, skittering across my foot.