by T. S. Simons
Sighing, I recognised the truth in this. 'Likely Aberdeen, and that is a long way. Come on then.'
Spotting the shed in which I had been kept captive, I shuddered, the memories threatening to consume me. I knew they weren't there. Exhaling fiercely through my teeth, I kept walking, purposefully. Splitting up, we strained our eyes in the darkness, fighting to see the contents of the feral sheds. The stench hadn't waned; it was still unbearable and precisely as I remembered it—the reek of fear and death. I avoided the sheds with the vats, heading towards a larger one. I found an old, rusted van inside, but I knew even from looking that it would take forever to start—time we didn't have.
'Here!' Illy called, and I followed her voice to a small lean-to at the side of the house, now fully illuminated in the dawn light.
As expected, the batteries were flat, and the bikes covered in dust, but they appeared undamaged. With our hospital gowns flapping, exposing our naked arses to the wind, we pedalled as fast as we could down the main road.
My stomach lurched at the low humming of a drone on approach. Looking up, I estimated we were less than a kilometre from the dock. I could see the marine blue of the water in the distance as it met the pale blue sky.
'Come on,' Illy urged, panting as she spurred up. 'For goodness' sake, Frey. Move!'
Drugged, weak and in agony from my second surgery, I pedalled as fast as I could, trying to keep pace with Illy. She accelerated, and I lost sight of her. Turning the final corner, the blinding whiteness of the Eurydice ahead of me, I dropped my head and pushed my legs to pump the pedals. Dropping my bike beside hers on the dock, the wheel still spinning, I clambered across the passerelle and felt the shudder as Illy started the engines, and I dragged it up. Thank goodness we had refuelled upon arrival, our quick escape from Auckland Island motivating that decision. We weren't expecting a warm welcome, but even we could never have envisaged we would depart like this.
'Do you want me to shoot it?' I called down the stairwell to Illy, where I could see her manoeuvring the vessel out of its berth. I doubted the accuracy of my aim in my current condition. Normally I was an excellent shot, but right now, I could barely lift my arms.
'No point. They have seen us. They will be after us.' I sensed the panic in her voice even from down the stairwell. 'Those electric cars aren't fast, but they will be on their way.'
'There is no time to disable the other vessels!'
I looked around the marina, panicked. There were a lot of sailing yachts. Nothing as fast and luxurious as the Eurydice, but plenty of motorised vessels. They could give chase.
'Do you know if they use any of the boats here regularly?' I stumbled halfway down the stairs to see Illy as she stood at the bridge. 'If there is one that they use, I could try to shoot it and hit the fuel tank?' Even as the words left my mouth, I doubted my chances of success. Fuel tanks differed in location, and I didn't know the make of each vessel.
She nodded grimly and started to say something, but paused as a light illuminated her face.
'Go back up and keep watch. Bellow if you see anyone. Scream like you have never screamed before.'
She disappeared back into the windowed bridge, and I could see her using the radio.
Watching the bank closely, I saw no movement. The drone hovered above us, and I tipped my head to the side to get a better look. One clear shot was all it would take. Maybe the flare gun? The flares were expendable. No one was coming to save us.
'Hold on!' Illy called.
I sat on one of the white deck chairs as Illy masterfully manoeuvred the craft out of the marina and headed east, picking up speed. Still feeling woozy, the drone lurked ominously overhead, and I wished fervently that I had bothered to shoot it down. It was just annoying now, buzzing around like a blow-fly. The thought made me smile, thinking of summer picnics in Australia, constantly harassed by flies. The yacht shifted to full power, roaring with the sound of the water swooshing past. I jolted in surprise as Illy placed a hand on my shoulder and handed me a life jacket.
'Who was on the radio?' I asked, slipping the jacket on, noting that Illy was hurriedly putting hers on too.
'Tadhg. Then Jake. Do it up. Properly. Now.'
Of all the people I expected, that wasn't it.
'What…? Did you encrypt…?'
'Watch.' She pointed towards the marina as she zipped up her jacket, the white boats fading rapidly from view as we sped away. 'Hold on to the railing. As tight as you can. Link arms with mine. Head down and keep your mouth closed.'
I scarcely saw the rush of motion. The impact of something hitting water. Hard. But the image of enormous boats flying in the air like paper aeroplanes, and the massive wave heading towards us I will never forget. Interlinking our arms, and dropping our heads, bracing for impact, we clung to the rail as the force of the surging wave struck us and tipped the Eurydice sideways. The force left us hanging from our hands as the water roared past us. Digging my fingers into the slippery rail, I fought to keep hold, my weakened muscles starting to give. The vessel teetered for a moment, and I closed my eyes, knowing we would capsize. I sent out an apology to my children. To Louis. I'm so sorry, I thought as his face flashed before my eyes. Just as I thought I could hold on no longer, the vessel creaked and righted itself, landing with an almighty splash back on her hull. Every piece of furniture was sent flying. Chairs landed in the water. Windows shattered as objects hurtled against them. As I recovered my wits, I saw Illy hanging under the rail. Grabbing hold of her lifejacket and a handful of hair, I dragged her back under the railing. Unable to stand upright on the sopping deck, we dropped, sitting there as we caught our breath.
I had a massive lump forming on my forehead where it had struck the metal rail. Touching it gingerly, I glanced back towards the marina to see the calmness after the devastation. Broken pieces of jetty, boats and debris floated on the surface. Some had already begun washing ashore. The drone was circling above the water's edge, assessing the damage.
Tilting my head slightly to look at her in the early morning light, I asked, 'Tell the truth. How much of that was for Luca?'
'Most of it.' She grinned as she sat beside me on the deck, looking across at me. 'God, he would have loved watching that. But strategically, a show of force and proving that we have allies means they are unlikely to pursue us. I mean, would you?'
Suddenly everything overwhelmed me, and I let my head fall back on the wooden deck with a thwack.
'Frey. I know you are exhausted, but I need you. You can't collapse yet. You can soon, I promise. But not now. Wipe your face. We can't get water in our eyes or mouths.'
Wearily, I lifted my head and took the towel out of the waterproof canister she handed me, stashed under her jacket. Not now, I repeated. As exhausted as I was, I was not ready to die.
'Time for a white flag?' I asked, desperate for a rest after hours of keeping watch. 'They aren't pursuing us.' The agony was making me nauseous, feeling like someone had slashed my stomach open, my face and head throbbing in sympathy.
Tadhg had maintained secure radio contact with us for a short time. An hour after the destruction at the harbour, he advised that he had intercepted Clava's communications to Auckland and other nearby communities. A few had seen the missile fired from Newgrange. Clava had reassured them all. It had been an accident. Everyone was fine. Tadhg and Jake had been watching us via satellite. In time it became clear that they had no intention of following us or firing upon us.
'I can't.'
I looked at her curiously. 'Ils, this isn't your battle. This is mine. I understand you want to avenge Luca's death, but I can do that. I need my son back. But you don't need to be here. You can drop me in Edinburgh, and I can keep going. Go home. Be with your girls.'
'Did I ever tell you how my parents died?'
'I gathered it was tragically. But not the specifics.'
Illy sat on the sofa opposite me and stared off into space, seeing something. She was in a place that wasn't here, unab
le to speak. Just as I was about to check that she was alright, she spoke.
'They had taken me to a nightclub with my high school friends. They dropped me off, kissed me goodbye, and were driving home, after making me promise to call them if I needed a lift home. I was a few weeks past eighteen and didn't have my licence. It was booked, but I hadn't taken the test, as my birthday fell in the week of my final exams. They stopped at an intersection, waited for the light to turn green. They pulled onto the main road and were wiped out by a drunk driver. He had broken up with his girlfriend and sunk a bottle of Jim Beam. Then he thought he would go out and get more. Didn't even see them. Didn't stop to render assistance. Our car flipped and rolled down an embankment. They died there. All the while, I am dancing the night away with my friends, oblivious that my life had forever changed.'
'Oh, Illy. I am so sorry.'
'I arrived home at 3 AM, and they weren't there. At first, I thought the car had been stolen. Then I realised the house was empty. I panicked. Rang all their friends. Every hospital. Then the police showed up at the door. It has been a long time. But it stays with you.'
'Is that why you don't drink much?' I asked curiously.
'Partly. But mainly as it impairs your judgement. In case you haven't noticed, I am a bit of a control freak.'
'Did your parents know you had been accepted into the military?'
'No. At that point, I was going to be a lawyer.'
'Really?'
'I knew I was good with words, and I wanted them to be proud of me. I had already been accepted into Arts/Law. That party was my celebration, before I took on my summer job to help pay for it.' Illy turned and vomited her breakfast into the North Sea.
'I have never been so seasick,' Illy muttered as her head returned from over the rail for the third time that morning. 'Then again, maybe it is anger consuming me. The blazing desire to confront that gutter-dwelling fuckwit. That keeps me going.'
'It could be one of the medicines they gave us.'
Illy thought about that. 'Possibly. Nothing I can do if that is the case. Getting it out of my system is the only course of action.'
'Back to what I was saying, do you want to go home?'
'No. What I want is to finish what I started. I want to see Angus' face when I confront him. I want to know why. Why did he kill Luca? Try to kill Cam. Take Louis. I need to know. I never had answers from my parents' death. I went to the trial, but the guy didn't even remember getting in his car. I felt so empty. There were no answers to my questions. This time I need closure.'
Illy's looked terrible, her usually creamy complexion tinged green.
'Do you want to stop for a day or so?' I asked, concerned equally for her, but also for the head start Angus had on us. Thanks to our detour, he had nearly two months on us.
'No,' she mumbled, but I suspected she did.
'Look, let's pull into the nearest dock and let your stomach settle. I feel nauseous with all the drugs they pumped in me too. An hour is not going to make much difference, is it? After all, it has been weeks since we left home. Clava aren't after us. Tadhg is watching. An hour or two isn't changing anything.'
'Maybe…' but I could tell she wasn't convinced.
I chattered away, trying to distract her from her seasickness. 'Ils, do you think he might take Louis to Auckland? I mean, if this is retribution for what we did?' I didn't want her to think I blamed her. I genuinely didn't. But I had spent the past weeks regretting blowing up that lab. Perhaps I should have just injected Kat and left quietly? Was this payback? Had Luca died because of my sister?
'It is certainly possible,' — Illy considered — 'but I think unlikely. He had no real ties there. If he doesn't want to reside on a yacht and live a transient life, he needs to be in a protected community if he is going to stay anywhere for a period, especially with a child. That limits the options significantly. He lived on Lewis, then with you. He is Scots. He was more likely to head to Clava. But there is no reason to believe that part of what they told us was a lie. If he was there, he would have dropped by to be a twat and act superior. He couldn't help himself. As for, is this payback, well, possibly? But why take Louis? Why not just kill Cam and Luca?' Her voice glitched slightly on the name. 'There was no need to take Louis. I watched the footage a dozen times. He planned it. He took Louis deliberately. It wasn't a spur-of-the-moment action.'
'You watched it a dozen times?' I echoed numbly. 'Why?'
Illy was silent for a while, then responded in a husky voice. 'Initially to see what had happened. I couldn't believe he was gone, that a man so full of life had been suddenly obliterated. I saw his face, the shock kicking in. I watched him fall—the blood pooling around him on the concrete dock. Then, when I watched it again as you packed, my training kicked in. I rewound it and watched to analyse what had happened—focused on the detail. The facial expressions. The body language. I have seen far worse, you know.'
'But he was yours,' I whispered. 'It is different.'
'It is. But after a few times, it wasn't about me anymore. I needed to read Angus, trying to learn what I could. His motives. Make sense of what happened. He didn't intend to harm Louis. That was obvious. Taking him, or someone, was why they were there. Louis was terrified, but Angus didn't threaten him. Louis fell to his knees, sobbing over Cam. Angus made no aggressive overtures towards him. He had holstered the gun and dragged him to the vessel. It was only when I saw it the first time, when I came to tell you, that I lost it.'
'Hearing you scream like that chilled my blood. I have never seen you distressed. Even when the pregnancy was complicated, and we thought you might lose the girls.'
'Control is an important skill in the military. And analysis.'
'What about Nate?'
'Nate was an interesting one. It was plain from his body language that he knew this was the plan. But he didn't partake in it. The only time he even got off the ship was to help Angus carry Louis. Louis was hysterical, and it took both of them to drag him aboard. But they didn't hit him or intimidate him, and no one was watching. So while I don't know Angus well, I have to say I don't think the intention was to harm Louis. Retribution for Auckland, maybe. But I saw nothing to show he planned to hurt him.'
'That is a relief. Why didn't you tell me sooner?'
'Because keeping up our spirits was the most important thing while we were there. If I started talking about what had happened, you would focus on that, and fret about how much time we had lost. Not focus on getting away. On that note, what did you say to Ashton to make him release us?'
'It is the strangest thing. I don't really know. I told him about your children and mine. I sensed a shift, so I pushed it. I couldn't even see him in the dark, but I just felt it, if that makes sense. Especially when I spoke about you and your girls.'
'You have always had amazing instincts. Carl and I dated for a short time.'
'What?'
'We had known each other since Melbourne. But we were so busy at that time assessing candidates and saving as many people as possible that we never had a personal conversation. Everything was about logistics, candidates. We spent some time together in the early years, on Auckland. Nothing serious, a few dinners. A movie or two.'
'What happened between you?'
'It was around the time that we learned about the mass murders on Gibraltar and Great Barrier. I offered to go, to help, and I was shut down fairly abruptly. I realised he would always be more committed to the project than me, so I quietly broke it off. I doubt he ever worked out why. I certainly never told him outright. I just stopped being available. He wasn't that great with subtle communication.'
'Well, that part is probably true, being committed to the project. So why did he release us? He doesn't have children of his own, does he?'
'Not that I know of. But what I know is that Carl was found as a baby, only hours old, wrapped in a filthy blanket, in the women's toilets of a train station in central Brisbane. A woman went to the to
ilet on her way to work and found him. He told me it was all over the news. The police looking for his mother, for witnesses. But like all news, it petered out eventually, and no one ever came forward. He went to a foster home, and after a few months, he was adopted by a childless couple, both academics, who nurtured his passion for science. He was given a wonderful education, raised in a loving home. But he never stopped wondering who his birth parents were. Where he came from.'
'I think I used the word orphan. I just didn't think about it.'
'Well, that would have resonated. He never got over it. He told me once that his early work in genetics, mapping genomes, was to try to track down his own history. He had a book of the newspaper clippings about himself as a baby, copies of the police report and the television stories. He would forensically analyse each photo, the blanket, the location, just to see if he could find something that the detectives missed.'
'And did he? Ever find out where he came from?'
'No. It affected him more than he let on. I can imagine it is a very lonely and isolating feeling.'
'I thought there was something in his tone when he spoke to you.'
'Maybe. He always liked me. But I was already having doubts about the project. He wasn't someone I could confide in about those doubts, so it was easier if I broke it off.'
'Did you like him too?'
Illy's sigh was so deep that I felt it reverberate through my bones. 'I did. I really liked him. He is a kind man. A good man. Intelligent and self-deprecating. Breaking it off was hard. I was so desperately lonely. People had partnered up, spending more time in couples. I questioned myself a hundred times. Me and my bloody ethics.'
'I've told you it was loneliness that finally made me make a move on Cam,' I confessed.
'The way he tells it, you two had this amazing love at first sight story. You knew each other before that night at the springs?'
'We shared a dorm but barely saw each other. They designed it that way. Different roles and different shifts. They didn't want people who worked together to live together, and they deliberately rostered us differently in the early days so we wouldn't be on top of each other. Then one night, he had a migraine, and he couldn't get the pain tablets from the packet.'