by Andrea Hicks
‘So, what’s the point of running. You’ve just said they’ll find me anyway. Maybe I should turn myself in.’
‘That would be silly.’
‘Why?’
‘Why should they make the decision about whether you live or die? Don’t you want a chance to save yourself?’
I close my eyes and hang my head. I suddenly feel incredibl tired. Then something occurs to me. ‘Can they kill me?’
I hear Cain’s frown rather than see it. ‘What d’you mean?’
I shrug. ‘My blood...it’s, well, sort of unusual, isn’t it?’
Cain throws his head back and laughs. ‘Yeah, you could say that.’
I pull a face behind his back. ‘Glad you find it so funny.’
‘I reckon that was the understatement of a generation.’
‘Yeah, well, I haven’t got my head around it yet. I’m still not sure what it really means.’
Cain sighs. ‘Nina... I told you...you have all the antibodies that any pharmaceutical company would kill to get their hands on.’
My eyes fill with hot tears and I swallow hard so I can speak. ‘Thanks.’ My voice comes out in a croak.
Cain sighs again. ‘Sorry.’
‘Forget it, but you didn’t answer the question. Can I be killed?’
‘I dunno...for certain. Maybe. Or maybe not.
‘For fuck’s sake, if you don’t know, someone who’s a scientist, how the hell am I supposed to know?’
We’re quiet for ages until Cain breaks it.
‘We can’t go to my place.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Luna’s there.’
‘Luna?’
‘The girl in the photo above my bed. I know you’ve seen it.’ If he knows I’ve seen the photo he knows I’ve seen the files and probably knows what I took from the boxes. ‘She came home yesterday morning for Christmas. It was a surprise. I didn’t know about it until she turned up on the doorstep.’
‘Who is she?’
He doesn’t speak for a while. ‘My sort of girlfriend.’
‘Is the “sort of” thing your idea, or hers?’
‘Hers.’
‘Right.’
‘We need to find somewhere else to take you.’
‘Don’t you trust her?’
‘Yeah, course I do, but I don’t think it’ll go down well if I take you home. How would you feel if your boyfriend brought a stranger home and said, ‘She’s staying whether you like it or not?’ And, she watches the news. If she’s seen your face on the bulletins it’ll cause hell on wheels. How will I explain that away?’
I chuckle. ‘Like that is she?’
He side-stepped my question. ‘There must be someone who’d hide you for a while.’
I puff out a breath. ‘Er, well, yeah, my Aunt Rochelle, my dad’s sister. I lived with her for a while when my mum died but it got a bit heated there with her new partner. He hated me which was why I left. She’ll be happy to see me, but he won’t.’
‘Where do they live?’
‘Battersea.’
Cain makes a swing to the right and I watch out of the small windows at the back of the van as Westminster Abbey disappears into the distance. It looks beautiful, and at any other time...
‘Postcode,’ Cain barks over his shoulder.
‘Um...’
‘Come on, Nina. I think we’re being followed.’
‘I think it’s SW11.’
‘You think. Street name?’
‘Lavender Hill.’
He kind of semi-looks over his shoulder. ‘You’re kidding, right?’
‘No? Why would I be kidding?’
He taps the postcode into the SatNav and then puts his foot heavily on the accelerator. I’m thrown to the back of the van, but I don’t complain. If he’s right about us being followed we need to get away because I’ve learnt if they can get a shot, they won’t hold back. I claw my way up one of the back doors to peep out of the window. There are loads of cars behind us; it could be any one of them. Turning across Chelsea Bridge towards Battersea, I notice some of the cars continue along the Embankment, but most follow our route. How will we know which one holds Cecily Cunningham’s men?
‘Cain, I don’t know how happy I am to go to my aunt’s. What if we are being followed? She’s got three kids, well children. Won’t it put them in danger? I don’t want to be responsible for that.’
‘We won’t go there directly, Nina. I’m taking us into Battersea Park. We’ll park up and see if anyone follows or parks up near us. It won’t be busy now. It’s getting dark and the weather is shit. No one will want to go out in this. If a car comes into the park, it’s probably because they’re after us.’
My heart floats up to my mouth. ‘Right.’
He drives along the Chelsea Bridge Road to the Chelsea Bridge Roundabout then turns right into the entryway that leads to the park gates. Thankfully they’re open, and he takes the van along the Carriage Drive skirting the park, pulling up next to the lake. It’s dark now; from the back of the van I can see lights twinkling from the houseboats on the Thames, shining like lasers across the lake. I envy the people who live there. Right now, I envy anyone whose life is their own and not wanted by people trying to use them or kill them.
‘Do you want to sit up front for a while,’ Cain asks.
‘Is it safe?’
‘It’s not a life or death question, Nina.’ He slides out of the driver’s seat and pushes the side door open. ‘Come on,’ he says, looking at me like he feels sorry for me. I walk quickly to the passengers’ side, looking nervously around me in case we’re jumped. When we’re both in the cab he turns to me and smiles. ‘I don’t want you to make any sudden moves or get scared, but a Merc has just pulled into the park.’ I gasp, my eyes on his face. He doesn’t look scared but...I am. ‘It might not be anything to do with us, but they’ve stopped just short of the entrance.’ He slides down in his seat and watches them in his side-mirror.
‘Should we not just go?’
‘Go where?’ I don’t have an answer for that one. There isn’t anywhere, apart from Rochelle’s which whoever they are, I’m sure they don’t know about.
Cain continues to watch them. It’s so dark now, the only illumination is from lights skirting the Carriage Drive
‘They’re getting out of the car.’
I draw in a breath. ‘Oh, shit. How many?’
‘Three.’
‘Why have they left the car?’
He turns his head to look at me then turns back, his eyes concentrated like a laser on the mirror, then quietly starts the engine. Within a nano-second, he rams it into gear and we fly off down the Carriage Drive. I turn in my seat, hanging onto the door to look out of the back window. They have guns, bloody great things that look like those rifles you see in Cold War films. As the van tyres slip on the gravel underneath, the men, all wearing joggers and hoodies, start to shoot, bullets ricocheting off the back of the van, which sounds like metallic thumps every time a bullet hits. I duck down into the footwell and scrunch up my eyes.
‘You won’t get hit,’ says Cain, as he turns the wheel to take the van around the lake and follows the Carriage Drive like a bat out of hell.
I put my fingers onto the seat and pull myself up, just a little. ‘What do you mean? How on earth can you know that?’
‘Bullet proof glass.’
My mind starts doing acrobatics. Bullet proof glass? Why would a carpentry van be decked out with bullet proof glass?
‘You have bullet proof glass in your van.’
‘Not my van,’ he gasps as he wrestles with the steering wheel. I peep through the side glass. We’re out of Battersea Park and careering through the dark streets towards Rochelle’s. It’s like the vehicle is super-charged.
‘Are they still behind us?’ He shakes his head and I stare at him. There’s so much I want to ask him but he’s concentrating, and I don’t think he’d tell me any way. ‘You lost them?’
‘Yep.’
>
‘How?’
‘My driving skills are excellent.’ His answer’s not enough for me and a little worm of something is crawling into my brain, but I decide to leave it.
We drive into a street near Rochelle’s, slowed down now, and pull up away from the streetlamps.
‘I won’t ask you which house it is. The less who know about your aunt the better.’
‘Even you.’
He pulls off his hat which ruffles his hair and I’m tempted to reach up to smooth it. He runs his hand quickly across it and he looks like the surfer-guy I first met at the facility. ‘If I don’t know I can’t tell anyone else, can I?’
I inhale a deep breath. I don’t know what to do now. I feel completely lost, side-lined, hung out to dry. ‘What will happen now?’ He shrugs, which doesn’t fill me with confidence. ‘Why did they shoot at us?’
‘You know why, Nina. They’re Cecily’s men. Agents don’t look like The Men in Black or James Bond, y’know. They’re ordinary looking guys you probably pass on the street every day. That’s the point. They’re not meant to stand out.’
‘Then how will I know?’
‘You won’t. Just keep yourself safe.’
I shake my head and screw up my face. ‘And I do that how?’
‘By not drawing attention to yourself. Don’t leave the house more than you really need to, if at all.’ I close my eyes and hang my head. ‘Look, it’s not perfect, but...if you want to stay alive it’s what you’ll do, even if it gets uncomfortable.’
I nod and do my best not to allow tears to fill my eyes. ‘And what about you. What are you going to do?’
‘Dump the van and go back to my place. Luna will be wondering why the hell I’ve gone out when she’s just come home.’
I give him a side-look. ‘And why did you?’
He blows a laugh out through his nose. ‘None of this is your fault. Cecily and the facility have handled the situation badly. She knows she’ll get slaughtered if it goes wrong and you get away. At the least she needs to have you in custody until she can decide what to do with you. She’s under the cosh and she knows it, and if I know anything about Cece, she likes her position and she sure as hell won’t want to lose it. Her girlfriend’s the same. They’re both hard as nails bitches.’
I press the lever down on the van door and go to slide out, then turn back. ‘Will I...see you...again. Ever?’
He shrugs again. ‘Who knows.’
Chapter 9
I’m nervous as I walk up Lavender Sweep into Lavender Hill. Rochelle’s place is halfway up, a tall Victorian house with long windows and steps leading up the front door. I wish she hadn’t painted the door fuchsia pink. It’s her favourite colour and it’s everywhere. I’ve heard people say,’ Oh yeah, she lives in the one with the bright pink door’, not really what I need right now. I’m also worried about turning up on her doorstep after more years than I care to admit. We’ve always kept in touch, you know, a phone call on birthdays, Christmas and New Year, and the odd text, but I haven’t seen her in ages. I feel kind of bad just turning up because I’m in trouble, although I’m sure she wouldn’t have it any other way.
The house looks the same, the fuchsia pink door is still pink, but it looks weathered and a bit flaky. It needs a lick of paint, and the garden is overgrown and unkempt. She always loved her garden, would even go out in the winter to tidy up, so I’m surprised to see it like this. The one thing I can say about Rochelle is that she makes me feel safe, even with the presence of the dickhead of a partner. Standing at the front gate I draw in a breath. Here goes. I go up the steps and knock on the front door. There’s a light on in the living room behind the drawn curtains and I hear voices. It’s Boxing Day. I pray they haven’t got visitors. The door opens a crack, then flung wide. Camille, Rochelle’s eldest daughter and my cousin, stands in the opening.
‘Nina?’ I nod and she holds out her hands. Camille is a couple of years younger than me and I remember her being the quiet one when I lived with the family. In front of me stands a sassy young woman with long shiny black hair and eyes fringed with long eyelashes. Her face is made up to the nines, and as I take her hands, I see her fingernails are long and painted. This isn’t the Camille I remember. ‘Nina. It’s so good to see you. Mum has been so worried.’
I take a step back. ‘Did she see the news?’
Camille nods. ‘We all did. What the hell’s going on?’ She pulls me into the hall and shuts the front door. ‘Are you in trouble.’ I nod. ‘Mum will be relieved to see you.’
She walks me down the hall and into the living room where Rochelle is sitting with Levi and Jacob who have grown beyond anything I could have imagined. They’re teenagers, tall, strapping guys with long legs splayed out in front of them. As we go in Rochelle turns her head and when she sees me she gasps.
‘Oh, my God. Nina. Oh, my God. Oh, my God, I’ve been so worried. Where have you been? How has this happened?’
Camille laughs. ‘Let her get in, Mum. She’s half-frozen to death.’ She squeezes my arm. ‘Are you hungry? Thirsty?’
I nod. ‘Yes, to both.’
‘I’ll get you something.’
Camille goes into the kitchen and Rochelle helps me off with my coat, then wraps me in her arms. She’s put on weight since I last saw her, and she looks older...is older. Her voice breaks with emotion when she speaks. ‘I’ve been out of my mind with worry, Nina. You know, you’re like one of my own kids. I couldn’t imagine how scared you were.’ She pushes the hair back from my face. ‘You know they burned down the flat?’
Levi and Jacob sit in another sofa and I sink down next to Rochelle. ‘When you say burned down, do you mean...absolutely burned down? Gone?’ She nods. ‘We went to have a look. The whole block of four. It began in your flat, so luckily everyone else managed to get out, but it’s unliveable. The other residents have been rehoused.’
‘Who did it?’
‘Maybe some of the protestors. Some of them were saying you were going to save the world. But then there were others who wanted you found and imprisoned.’ She swallows and looks down. ‘At the very least imprisoned.’
I shake my head at how illogical it all seems. ‘They kept me for three months in a government facility called Plan Bee.’
Rochelle’s eyes widen. ‘Why?’
‘They tested my blood every few days, did some...minor surgery, I don’t know. It was horrible. And then one of the scientists helped me escape.’
Rochelle’s eyes narrow into flints. She’s a canny woman. She knows that if someone helped me there was a reason behind it. ‘Why would they do that?’
‘I still don’t know. I went to see the head of the facility, probably one of the most stupid things I’ve ever done, and she said I was on a list of traitors they wanted to get rid of because I was a threat to national and international security. I was lucky she didn’t arrest me there and then, but she said her guys would do it. She was so confident I didn’t stand a chance. I got away, and Cain, that’s the scientist who helped me, was waiting with his van. They shot at us but we managed to get away. He drives like a rally driver.’
‘A van? Against what?’
‘A Merc.’
‘No way.’
Camille returns with a plate of turkey, roast potatoes and all the works, and a big glass of beer. ‘Get that down you. You look like you need it.’
I smile my gratitude. ‘Thanks, Camille. This looks great.’
‘Mum’s finest.’ She sits in the chair opposite and stares at Rochelle, a kind of pointed look. Rochelle returns it and I begin to wonder if I’m not welcome.
‘I won’t stay, Aunt Rochelle.’
Her face is like thunder. ‘You fuckin’ well will. Where else you gonna go?’
I shrug and shake my head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘There you are then.’
My turn to look at her pointedly. ‘What about Paul?’
‘Yeah, what about Paul.’ I nearly choke on my food as his voice comes fro
m the door. He was clearly standing in the hall listening to every word being said. ‘Do I get a say in any of this?’
I feel Rochelle tense then relax as she straightens her shoulders, ready to square up to him. ‘Actually, Paul, you don’t. This is my house, and Nina is part of my family. She’s staying here until she doesn’t need to. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Well...Nina? Looks like you got yourself a billet. Hope you’re not going to bring any crap down on our heads. We’ve got these three to think about.’
This was what I was dreading. This man, if that what he can call himself, this moron, this molester who thinks what he says goes in a house that doesn’t belong to him yet has the power to make the rules. I cannot even describe how much I hate him. But he’s Aunt Rochelle’s partner, and he lives here. I must remember that, as if I’m going to be allowed to forget it.
‘So, who is it who wants you dead? I’m guessing they’re prepared to do anything to find you. And you said they use shooters.’
Suddenly I’ve lost my appetite. The turkey and potatoes I’ve eaten turns to acid in my stomach. ‘If I think that’s going to happen, I’ll leave.’
He nods slowly and sits next to me, too close, his scrawny thigh touching mine. And he stinks of nicotine and alcohol. ‘Good, although you didn’t answer the question. Who’s after you?’
‘The government, a facility called Plan Bee.’
‘You must be valuable to them.’
I stare him right in the eye to show him I’m not scared of him. ‘Hardly, if, as you say, they want me dead.’
He nods slowly again and purses his lips. ‘I hope they don’t know where you are because Rochelle and I have to put the kids first.’
‘We’re not kids anymore,’ says Levi. ‘I don’t have a problem with Nina staying.’ He looks at Rochelle. ‘And isn’t taking care of Nina what Uncle Tate would want, would expect from us?’ My heart quickens. Tate. My dad. I haven’t heard his name mentioned in years.
Paul turns on him. ‘You don’t have an opinion, boy, and neither does your...Uncle Tate, the non-existent brother who never shows, and yet is spoken about as though he’s a king who lives down the street.’ He looks at Rochelle as he says this. The room becomes heavy with unpleasantness and I wish I hadn’t come here, if only because I’ve caused trouble for Rochelle, Camille and the boys.