Outsider

by Alison Ingleby

  “Shut it.” I glare at them. “Shouldn’t you lot be in school?”

  A small girl with matted blonde hair shrugs. “What for?”

  It’s a fair question. School is a bit of a half-hearted affair here in Area Four, both from pupils and the authorities. You don’t complain that all they’re teaching you is a load of crap, and they don’t complain when you skip class.

  As I round the corner of the street, a hand lands on my shoulder and there’s a familiar voice in my ear. “You were supposed to report back two hours ago.” His voice is mild. Perhaps it’s the Irish accent that makes him sound so laid back.

  “Well, since you knew where to find me, why didn’t you come and w—” I check myself hurriedly. I have no doubt he knows that I’ve spent the best part of the night and this morning asleep like a drunk in a back alley, but that’s no reason for me to admit it. “Get me,” I end lamely.

  “Never wake an angry woman, that’s my motto. I knew you’d come around eventually.”

  Great, now he’s mocking me.

  Murdoch leans back against the wall and folds his thick, stocky arms. “So, did you get the information?”

  I make myself look into his clear blue eyes. If you look away, they know you’re lying. If your eyes flicker, they know you’re lying. But if you’re confident, if you know the tricks they look for, it’s easy.

  “Sure, I got something, but yer not going to like it.”

  The words trip off my tongue before I can stop them. Oops. That was not what I had planned to say.

  He arches an eyebrow. “Okay then, so what is it?”

  “I got to the new leader. Had him right in my lap, so to speak.” Technically, I was in his lap, but the end result would have been the same. If I hadn’t screwed up. “They definitely have some involvement with them.” Murdoch nods, knowing I’m referring to the Brotherhood. “But we were interrupted, and then he zoned out on,” I take a deep breath, forcing myself to get the word out, “tronk.”All the best lies have a bit of truth in them.

  “Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

  For a second, I think he’s going to hit me and my hand’s halfway to my knife before I remember that I don’t have it on me. Damn this stupid outfit. His fist slams into the boarded-up window an inch from my head.

  “The previous gang leader refused to help them. Green-eyes wanted to avoid taking part in a leadership challenge, so he cut ’em a deal. Though, I’m not sure he’ll be in charge for long. All is not happy in Shankster HQ.”

  “And their contact in the Brotherhood?” he whispers, glancing around nervously.

  “I-I didn’t get that far.”

  Frown lines appear on his forehead. “I can’t work out if you know the truth and you’re just hiding it from me, or if you don’t know jack.”

  “If you told me what you wanted the information for, then perhaps it would be easier for me to help you,” I say sweetly.

  Murdoch’s gang is still a mystery to me. Since he approached me a month ago and blackmailed me into working for them, I’ve been trying to find out more about the Chain. But no one I’ve spoken to has heard anything about them. I don’t know if that’s better or worse than the rumours about the Brotherhood. People don’t talk much about them, either, but that’s out of fear.

  Murdoch’s face darkens. “That wasn’t part of the deal. You do as we ask and I keep your secret, secret.”

  “And help me find out what happened to my mother,” I remind him.

  He nods. “Sure, but you’re a long way from that. If you can’t even complete a basic task, we have no use for you.”

  My fingernails dig into the thin skin on my thighs. The pain helps to control the rising anger in my belly. “I’ve made contact. He’ll be more receptive next time. I’ll get him drunk. He’ll speak more freely then.”

  And where are you going to find the money for liquor?

  “If you go again, you go with someone. I don’t trust you on your own.”

  “I told you, I work alone.” Folding my arms, I meet his gaze. He looks away first.

  “Fine, but if you don’t have anything to report tomorrow, the deal is off.”

  He stalks away and I slump against the wall, closing my eyes. How the hell do I find out about the Shanksters’ link with the Brotherhood by tomorrow? What I’d told Murdoch was mostly rumour, I’ve got no way of knowing if it’s true, but I had to get him off my back somehow.

  For now, though, I have a more immediate problem. Getting home safe.

  “Aleesha?”

  My eyes snap open. The man in front of me is short, not much taller than me, with the left side of his head shaved and the remaining hair braided tight. A snake’s head tattoo pokes out the neck of his t-shirt. I breathe a sigh of relief. “Jonas, right?”

  He nods suspiciously. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I could ask the same of you. I wasn’t aware Jay or Dane had authorized any contact with the Shanksters.” I glance significantly at the graffiti-covered building behind me, but the gesture is too subtle for him.

  Jonas frowns and is about to reply when footsteps approach. I vaguely recognize the newcomer, a squat boy with greasy tendrils of hair, from the Snakes’ HQ. He squints at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Jay’s business.” Smiling sweetly, I add, “But I could do with a hand getting home.”

  Their muttered voices follow me as I walk down the street. I step carefully to avoid the shards of broken glass, metal and other hazards embedded in the filth that covers the road. Luckily, it’s been dry for a couple of days. If the streets were flooded, it would be impossible to see anything.

  My breath hisses through my teeth as I snatch my foot away from whatever has just stabbed it. Lifting it up, I examine the sole, trying not to fall over or hop around on the other leg.

  There’s a shriek from one of the hobies lining the street. I look up to see Jonas walking away from her. “Here y’go.” A pair of battered shoes are thrown in front of me. “We’d better go before she decides to get ’em back.”

  I yank out a splinter of glass and flick it away. The shoes look barely cleaner than the street, but they’ll have to do.

  “Thief!” the woman yowls behind us. I glance back, but she’s too scared to come and reclaim them. She waves twig-like arms, her skeletal frame tottering on swollen feet. I grimace as I slip my feet into the over-large shoes, wondering if foot rot will be another price I’ll pay for my weakness last night.

  “Come on, she’s just a tronk addict.” Jonas pulls at my arm.

  He’s right. The signs are there as the woman sinks back into the line of hobies: hollow cheekbones, a desperate gleam in her bulging eyes.

  That could be you if you don’t give it up.

  No, it won’t. I’m smarter than them.

  Are you really?

  Yes! I made it off the streets and I will stay off the streets.

  But what about the tronk?

  I’m giving it up, alright?

  The voice in my head falls silent. “As if I don’t have enough to deal with.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing,” I say, realizing I’d spoken aloud.

  I’m glad of the escort on the way back. Walking practically naked through Area Four in broad daylight is guaranteed to get you into trouble, but the boys manage to handle most of the attention. I dismiss them at the end of the road and walk the last fifty metres to Jay’s place by myself.

  Jay lives in two small rooms above a closed-up kebab shop. I guess it’s my home too — or as close as I come to having one — but it feels wrong somehow to call it that. Too permanent. It’s not bad as far as places to live go and way better than many I’ve stayed in, especially now the kebab shop is closed. The smell of the filth they cooked was enough to drive you mad.

  I key in the code to the faded green door. The room inside contains a large battered table and a couple of chairs. Jay is in the adjourning bedroom, humming some mindless tune.
He sounds like he’s in a good mood, at least. I push the button on the hotplate. The orange light doesn’t come on.

  “Electric’s off.”

  I turn to see him slouched against the doorframe, a slight smirk on his face. The black tattoos that wind around his arms darken his copper skin and his t-shirt is a little too tight over his shoulders.

  “Three days of sun and the panels can’t even give us an hour of electricity?” I mutter, jabbing the button again. Dammit, no water then. Reaching down for a bottle of Chaz, my hand finds only empty air.

  “Sorry, this is the last one.” He brings his arm out from behind his back and waggles the blue bottle gently so the liquid sloshes inside. A knot of anger tightens in my stomach. I grab the bottle from his hand and gulp down the contents. It barely wets my dry throat.

  “Any food?”

  “Do you even bother to collect your rations?”

  I don’t answer. What do I tell him? That I can’t collect the crappy government rations all citizens are entitled to, and that if I tried, I’d be arrested on the spot? That all this time he’s been harbouring an illegal?

  He runs a hand over his short dark hair and sighs. “Nothing here. There are still some bits left from the depot raid at HQ, though. We’ll head there later.”

  “Fine.” My stomach growls and I can feel myself getting twitchy. Hangry, Jay calls it. Angry because I’m hungry. Maybe he’s right. Or maybe anger is just part of who I am.

  “You look a bloody mess. Where have you been?”

  “None of your damn business.” I bang the bottle down on the table, the plastic making a satisfying crunching noise. “It’s not as if you were around last night.”

  But thank god he’s not in the mood for a fight.

  “Hey, I was just worried about you. I haven’t seen you all morning.” He begins to massage my shoulders, and the twitchiness subsides.

  “I was supposed to be meeting a friend at a party. They didn’t turn up, so I was about to leave, but they had …” My voice trails off. I don’t really need to explain any further, he can fill in the gaps.

  “A friend?”

  Ah, yes. He knows as well as I do that I don’t have any friends.

  “I don’t think you’ve met her.” I shrug nonchalantly. “She’s just a dweeb.”

  He seems to accept the explanation. “You should watch who you hang around with. You don’t need no dweebs when yer the boss’s lady.”

  I smile and stand on my toes to kiss him on the lips. “Not quite the boss yet,” I tease.

  He grins and pulls me in for a hug, planting a kiss on my neck before pulling back and holding me at arm’s length, his nose wrinkling.

  “Eeewww, you stink!”

  I grimace, realizing he’s right. “Yeah, I’ll have to ask the hobies to keep their alleyways cleaner.”

  “Well, it’s your lucky day. We have water! And I got it heated up before the leccy went off. Come on, I was about to jump in.” He flicks my long braid so it swings from side to side.

  “We have water?” I push past him and race for the bedroom. He laughs and follows, scooping me up and throwing me onto the bed. The bowl of steaming water is balanced on the wide windowsill; another bucket to stand in is underneath. Washing water is too precious to be wasted.

  “Me first!”

  Jay rolls his eyes. “Okay, but only ’cos you smell so bad.”

  I quickly strip and step into the plastic bucket. There’s even a sliver of soap. Heaven. I wash down fully before dunking my head into the water and scrubbing at my hair, which hasn’t been cleaned properly in weeks. It feels so good to get rid of the itchiness. When I’ve finished, the water is grey and murky.

  “Huh, so much for a clean wash.” Jay hands me a threadbare towel as I step out of the bucket. He tips the water back into the bowl.

  “It’s warm still, at least.” I dry myself quickly and dress. It’s good to be clean again. And wearing proper clothes that cover my body.

  While Jay’s washing, I return to the main room and use the tip of my knife to ease up the half floorboard in the corner. The fake wood is chipped and scratched. This old building used to have real wooden floors, having been built back when there was enough wood in the world to waste on construction. But the floors have long since been ripped up for firewood and replaced with this synthetic stuff. Nestled inside the void under the boards is a metal lockbox containing my secret stash of chits, spare food and — when I have it — tronk. Today, it also holds a small amulet threaded on a thin cord.

  “So, what you want to do for the rest of the day?”

  I whip around, but he’s still in the other room. Heart racing, I retrieve the amulet and replace the lockbox and floorboard.

  “Haven’t you got stuff to do?” I ask, walking back into the bedroom.

  He shakes his head, sending water droplets spinning over the bed. “Nope. Dane’s gone off somewhere and everyone’s kind of in limbo at the moment, so I have a free day.” He hesitates for a moment, looking at me. I don’t like that look. It means he has something planned. And that usually means trouble.

  “I thought we could go take a look at the Wall.”

  That was not what I had expected. “Why do you want to go look at the Wall? It’s just a waste of time.”

  Jay steps out of the bucket and begins to towel himself down. “Well, what would you rather be doing? Lying around here all afternoon or hanging out with your dweeb friends?” He makes a twisting motion with his hands. Loser. I can’t help but smile. And he’s right, there isn’t much else to do.

  “Okay then, we’ll go see the Wall.”

  A ray of sunlight lands on the small piece of green glass in my hand, sending speckles of jade dancing across the ceiling. After fastening the cord around my ankle, I walk over to Jay and wrap my arms around his warm chest, resting my head against his back. He smells of soap. Clean. The soap reminds me of my mother. Wherever we were, however little we had, there was always soap. I was always clean.

  He pats my hand. “Hey, let go, girl; otherwise, we’ll never get out of here.” But his tone is soft, teasing. This is the Jay I like. I just wonder how long he’ll stick around.

  * * *

  Area Four runs right up to the Wall, and half an hour later we’re sitting on a flat-roofed outbuilding, legs dangling into the street below. In front of us, almost close enough to touch, is the Wall: the barrier that divides London. In most parts of the city, there’s an empty area in front of it, where they knocked down all the old buildings. They call it the dead zone, ’cos if the Metz find you squatting there, you’re dead. But here, the buildings crowd in toward the Wall so it’s only a few metres away.

  It’s not a wall at all, really. At least, it’s not made of concrete or Plexiglas or metal. It’s just a shimmer of colours in the air. Bright, moving patterns of light. But it’s more lethal than any concrete or Plexiglas wall. It separates us: Outsiders from Insiders. Its beauty and colour is almost mocking, like they’re saying ’this is what it’s like Inside’. Just to remind us of our drab, grey surroundings.

  “Have you ever been on the other side?”

  I shake my head. What a dumb question. No one I know has ever been through the Wall.

  “I wonder what it’s like.”

  I’ve rarely seen Jay in this kind of mood. Angry and sullen, yes. Reflective and thoughtful, that’s just not really Jay. I sigh.

  “Pavements of gold and orchards of fruit, if you believe what Dane says.”

  He snorts. “Dane don’t know nothing. He’s never even tried to get past the guards.”

  “Well, he’d be stupid to try. No one can get past unless they want to let you in.” The only way to get inside the Wall is through the gates. There are three of them: East, North and West. The south side of the city is bordered by the swamps and the river, a mile of water that floods what used to be the southern part of London.

  We’re in the east of the city, but the East Gate is way up in Area Six. No one from Four ven
tures that far north. From what I’ve heard, Insiders can come and go through the gates as they please (not that any of them would choose to come out here) but as an Outsider, you can only get through if you have legit business Inside. They check your chip to make sure. As I’m not a legal citizen, I don’t have a chip, so there’s no way of me getting Inside.

  “They only have two guards on duty, right? It can’t be that hard to get past.”

  I snort. “Two on each side. And they filter you through those arches that scan your chip.”

  “Is that what they do? I thought they were just there to make the gate look more …”

  “Ornamental?” I supply.

  Jay frowns.

  “Impressive?”

  His face clears. “Yeah, that.”

  It can be frustrating being with Jay. And he’s pretty smart, for an Outsider. No wonder Insiders don’t want to mix with us. It would be tedious as hell. It’s a fact of life: Insiders are more intelligent than Outsiders. It’s designed that way. As an Insider, you get a hand up in the world from the day you’re born. I seem to be an exception to the rule. I’m smarter than most Outsiders I’ve met, even though I was born in Area Five. Which is well and truly Outsider territory. And as I’m an illegal, there’s no way any of the tiny cells that grew to become me could have been genetically enhanced. For some reason, my mother chose not to register my birth or even the fact that she was pregnant. According to the system, I don’t exist. I guess when it comes to intelligence, I’m just lucky.

  I glance at Jay. His head is slightly turned to one side and he’s gazing at the shimmering light. It’s his “thinking” face. I wait patiently. Finally, he stretches out his arm, fingertips only a few inches from the Wall, and looks over at me.

  “Really? I’m not going to be carting your dead body back home, you know.”

  He grins. “Loving girlfriend, aren’t you.”

  He shucks forward so he’s perched right on the edge of the roof. I glance down nervously. The drop into the alley isn’t too far — six feet, maybe — but if he falls, he’ll definitely hit the Wall.

  “Don’t be an idiot. Remember what happened to the guys at the raid when the barrier came up? They didn’t even scream. Dead in seconds.”