by Andrea Hicks
‘It isn’t. And the kitchen’s been cleaned and sanitised. She won’t know a thing about it, except to think what a good little girl you are, that you cleaned up so efficiently before you left.’
‘She’ll wonder where he is though, when he doesn’t go home from work.’
‘No. She won’t.’
‘Why?’
‘A note has been left, matched to his absolutely terrible, infantile handwriting, telling her he’s decided to do the right thing and leave her in peace. Short and to the point.’
‘And Dylan?’
‘Safe. Complains a lot about the food he’s being given which is probably because it’s healthy and not full of MSG, and not particularly happy with his accommodation, but then I hope you agree with me he doesn’t deserve to be.’
A warm wave of relief floods my body and I sink down onto the sofa. ‘Thanks.’
‘At last.’
‘Sorry?’
‘You said thanks. It’s the first time.’
‘I didn’t...I wasn’t sure...about you. It’s hard to trust someone you don’t know.’
‘Do you trust me now?’
He laughs when I don’t answer.
For the first time in months I feel I can relax a little. The apartment is warm, cosy, and I feel as safe as I’ve felt for a long time. In some ways I trust Luna and Emilio more than I trust Cain right now. He’s so mercurial, so changeable, I don’t know where I am with him. I’m hoping Luna is the one who’s in charge, lets him think he’s the boss when in reality she pulls all the strings. I’m hoping it’s the case. Even if it is there’s still a blot on the horizon, and regardless of how I’m feeling right now it’s not going to go away. Cain wants me to kill Cecily Cunningham and it’s so far out my comfort zone I can barely think about it.
I wrap the gun in a tea-towel and stick it in a drawer. He said it’s an untraceable firearm and the one he wants me to use. Do I want to kill her? No, I bloody well don’t. The poor woman’s just had a
tsunami-sized bout of flu for God’s sake.
How can I kill someone? Why should I do it, take someone’s life? When I saw Paul lying spread-eagled in the kitchen with half his head spilled across the floor it was horrendous, disgusting, not...disgusting, not sure it’s the right word. Repugnant. That’s it. That’s the word. It means sickening, hideous, nauseating. One of our lecturers at college like to use it when talking about the working classes through history. People like me, the bastard. The thought of shooting at someone, of being present when their life is leeching out of them because of something I’ve done is...is gross.
The biggest problem I have is that I’m a wanted person. If a member of the public recognises me they’ll turn me in. If I thought someone was a threat to national security and I just happened to notice them on the bus, I’d be on the phone right away. Of course I would, because it would be irresponsible not to. Plus, the fact that I’m aware there’s a mammoth-sized reward on my head means that anyone who does turn me in will receive a monetary compensation. precisely why Paul sent a message to a government email address because he thought he would get a hand-out. A flare goes off in my brain. He contacted a “government” email address, so how on earth did Cain get to know about it? There it is again. That kernel of mistrust of Cain that I cannot get across. How did he find out that Rochelle’s stupid husband contacted the government, or whichever department the email address was for, to discuss me? Damn it. I wish I’d taken more notice of the email address. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe it was a decoy set up by Cain and whoever it is he works with. Or maybe Cain has a sympathiser at MI5.
I crawl onto the bed and curl into a ball. My head is ready to explode trying to work out who to trust, who not to trust, and how the hell I’m going to get out of shooting Cecily. It’s unthinkable. I’m done. I’m not thinking about it anymore.
Chapter 12
When I wake the room is in a kind of half light and I’ve dribbled saliva on the duvet. I’m still curled up in a ball on top of the bed and I’m freezing. I must have slept the night through like this, but no matter. I slept well. I pull the phone off the bedside table. Seven-thirty. And I’m hungry. Cain said he didn’t know when I would be able to eat again, but I know.
I wipe my soggy cheek and chin on the back of my hand and slide off the bed. In the kitchenette there’s a miniscule fridge and a small hob. No oven, but there’s an ancient microwave and a veggie steamer. Someone likes to eat healthily. Not me. In the fridge is everything required for a full English, so in the pan it goes.
I have a strange feeling about today. I’ve heard people talking about a certain time in their lives being a watershed moment and I think today might be it for me. I don’t know why, just instinct I guess. Cooking breakfast is therapeutic. I’m trying not to think too hard about all the stuff I learnt yesterday from Cain and Luna, because I have this sense that I’m missing something. There’s a hole in everything I now know, a huge gaping void. The thing is, I’m almost sure my sub-conscious has worked it out, it’s just not bothering to tell me about it. There’s something pecking at my head, apart from the obvious, like having funky blood and that seemingly the whole world is looking for me. It’s like a distant memory, a spiral of smoke, a trail of dust, a doorway just out of reach, but I’m sure it’s connected to what’s happening now. If only I could recall it, I might get a handle on things.
I bolt my breakfast then wish I hadn’t. I’ve got into the habit of rushing things, eating in particular. It’s because I know that wherever I am I’m probably in danger of being discovered, so I get things over and done with in case I’m interrupted. I’m just wiping the last morsel of bread around the eggy tomato sauce on my plate when Luna lets herself in. She looks how she did when I first met her, ice-blue contacts, false eyelashes and the blonde wig. The way it all changes her appearance is staggering.
‘Hey,’ she says when she sees me. ‘Making yourself at home I see.’
I start, my mouth full of bread. ‘It’s okay, isn’t it?’
‘Sure it’s okay. It’s why you’re here sweetie. Did you sleep alright?’
I nod and take a gulp of coffee. ‘Very well. It’s a comfy bed.’ She laughs and after dumping a Bag for Life on the bed, unloads clothes and some small packets of stuff. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s for you. Some different clothes, and hair dye.’
I stare at her, horrified. ‘Hair dye. I don’t need hair dye.’
‘Yeah, you do, Tesoro. Cain wants you to change your appearance. It will give you a better chance of escape when you’ve done the deed. They’re looking for a mixed-race girl with a head full of dark-brown curly hair pulled into a top knot. No one will recognise you when I’ve finished. She pulls a pair of hair-dressing scissors out of the bag and snips the air.
‘No way. Absolutely no way.’
She sinks down on the bed and sighs. ‘Look, Nina, you must understand your life has changed. The old life is gone, it doesn’t exist anymore. Everything you knew from before you must forget. You will get a new appearance, a new name. Nina Gourriel will no longer exist so there’s absolutely no point in you looking like her.’
‘But...it’s not fair, not right. I didn’t choose this. I’m Nina and I want to stay being Nina. Please Luna, don’t cut off my hair.’ She sighs and closes her eyes. I don’t think she wants to do it either. ‘Why can’t I wear a wig...like you?’
‘Why d’you think? There’s no way all that hair is going underneath a wig.’ She throws a small box to me. ‘Start practising.’
I pick it up and roll my eyes when I see what’s inside. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly.’
The contacts make my face look so different, lighter, more Caucasian than I thought I would ever look. My skin isn’t dark, not black like my dad’s, and mum was fair skinned with dark-blonde hair, but when I get the contacts in it’s transformative.
‘The colour suits you.’
‘Green eyes. The green-eyed monster.’
<
br /> She lifts her eyebrows. ‘You’d better be. We’re not doing this for fun. Now the hair.’
‘Luna...’ I cry, holding my hands up palms facing her.
‘Okay, okay, keep your shirt on, I won’t cut it, but I must use this or Cain will flip.’
‘This one’s a straightener, and this one’s a colour remover. I’ll remove colour in streaks, then dye them pink and blue. You’ll fit in great around here. Everyone has rainbow hair.’
‘So my hair will be straight with pink and blue streaks.’
She nods. ‘Yep. And cool your beans. It’ll look fabulous I promise.’
I shrug and sit in the kitchen chair she pulls into the tiny bathroom. ‘It had better. Even I’ve got some standards.’
Three hours later it’s done. She turns me to face the mirror in the bedroom and I’m astonished. The girl whose reflection stares back at me, is not me. No way is she me. Her face is longer, more mature, with fuller lips and accentuated cheekbones. Her skin is translucent, like coffee laced with cream. Her eyes sparkle like emeralds. Her hair is straight and reaches to her waist and cascades down her back, the pink and blue streaks lightening the whole effect, making her look almost iridescent.
Luna stands back with her hands on her hips. She looks pleased, satisfied with her handiwork. ‘Like it?’
‘I...it’s not me.’
Luna sits on the bed and laughs. ‘Course, it’s you, Tesoro.’ She leans back on the bed. ‘Who else would it be?’
‘I feel faint.’ And I do, because this person is unrecognisable. And yet...and yet, it is me.
Luna laughs again. ‘Well, you need to get used to her, and fast. She has work to do.’
I’m instantly brought back to the room. In all the bewilderment over my appearance I’d conveniently forgotten why it was necessary to change the way I look. My reflection dims and I bow my head. ‘Luna, I can’t kill a person. I’m not a killer.’
She grabs my hand and forces me to sit next to her, her eyes boring into mine.
‘Some home-truths I think. It’s time you grew up and realised that the world you knew of silliness and immaturity is over...gone and forgotten, at least, you must forget it, Nina. Cain has been+- soft with you. I told him he was too easy-going with you, indulgent almost, and that it would not serve you well.’ She sighs, her gaze softening. ‘If you don’t get rid of her...and her girlfriend, they will kill you if they get hold of you first. You are on a list of wanted and dangerous and it doesn’t usually end well for those who are unlucky enough to have their names on it.’
‘But I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘It doesn’t matter what you have or haven’t done. Lots of people do nothing wrong but they are wasted because they get in the way. You’re in the way. Why do you think the other Bee Bloods have been sent across the globe? It’s to protect them.’
‘Have they killed?’ She nods and I gasp. ‘All of them?’
‘No, but some.’
‘Who? Who would they need to kill?’
‘Certain members of The Chamber of Eugenics have been assassinated because they got too close for Cain’s liking. They are a rogue department of MI5 that controls all human life, and they are the ones who want you dead. Cecily Cunningham and her girlfriend, Police Commander Deveraux are part of the chamber, but Cecily’s handlers don’t know it. Simone Deveraux is high up in the ranks, almost the top person. We’ve even infiltrated them with an informant to cast doubt on Cecily and Deveraux, but she got nowhere. The handlers wouldn’t listen and she ended up in the Thames, minus her life, seemingly on Deveraux’s orders.’
‘And they want you dead too?’
‘Yes, for all the reasons we explained to you before.’
‘Deveraux sounds like a problem.’
‘She is, a big one. Cecily Cunningham, for all her power and tough mouth, is in thrall to her. She worships her. Deveraux is pulling the strings. She’s the one you should go for first. Once she’s gone Cecily won’t know what to do. She’ll be weakened by the loss of her lover and the fact that she has no one to tell her what to do. That’s when you’ll get her.’
I swallow and nod. ‘And I’ve had to change my appearance because...?’
‘Because she and everyone else will be expecting the old Nina. When you show your hand she’ll know it’s you because she’s spoken with you before, but no one else has. Don’t forget there are some things about ourselves we can’t change, at least not in an afternoon, like the way you move, the cadence of your speech. Deveraux will expect a young girl with enormous hair to be confronting them, not the girl sitting next to me now. And you’ll be on the run again, don’t forget. You’ll still be on the run, but your new appearance will throw them, which is why you must be certain you’ve got them both. Don’t fuck this up, don’t leave before they’re both dead, and don’t for one second think they won’t kill you if they get the chance. They’re too comfortable at the Chamber. Unknown to the government, all Cecily’s expenses are paid by them. She’s worth a fortune. Neither she nor Deveraux will want you to mess that up for them. And they have a job to do, which is to keep the population as low as possible, and they don’t mind who they get rid of to ensure it.’
I get up and walk across to the mirror again.
‘Are we criminals? Don’t we all want the world to continue, to keep the population balanced so it survives?’
Luna joins me at the mirror and reaches for my hands. ‘We’re just trying to save ourselves, Nina. That’s all. They have ways of ensuring the population remains balanced but they don’t want to invest. Just think, our blood could stop people suffering all over the world. No pain. No devastating illnesses. No disability. Just productive lives led until old age then a peaceful death. Why would that be so bad?’
‘Won’t the food run out?’
She smiles and leans her head to one side. ‘Only because they want it to. It doesn’t have to be like that. It’s suited them up to now not to deal with the bee devastation problem because it keeps us under their control. Everyone is scared. You’ve read the news about what will happen when our bee population dies and we have to find a way of pollinating crops. Do you think they can’t do that already? Do you think they can’t save the bees?’
‘Can they?’
‘Yes, without a doubt, but they choose to keep the methods a secret. It was all working fine until we came along. They could control the population and keep us all where they wanted us; with fear...fear of the end of the human race, fear of losing our loved ones.’ She pushes my hair out of my eyes, then pulls me to her and hugs me. ‘You and I are the same, Nina. I don’t know why or how, but I do know we’re in danger through no fault of our own.’ She pushes me away from her and looks hard at me. ‘We have to stop them hunting us, the government, MI5 and the pharma companies, and then we have to make sure that everything they’ve done is made public, the killing of innocent people, the hiding of pollination scientific research and of how to save the bee population. Someone must begin the change, and that someone is you.’
‘Who told you all this.’
‘Cain, of course.’
Chapter 13
Luna has gone and I’m alone again, although not quite alone. On the bed next to me is a gun, not the one I took from Cain’s because he says it’s traceable now Hikaru knows I had it, but a different weapon, a semi-automatic, smaller so it can be easily concealed, and a burner phone. Luna relieved me of the phone Cain gave me. The burner phones are disposable, preferably one use then chuck, not exactly environmentally friendly, but Luna says it’s imperative they’re untraceable. I’m to use this one for exactly twenty-four hours then get rid, and I must contact Cain before I leave the flat. Just a text. Presumably, they expect me to kill Cunningham and Deveraux before then. I’ve thought and thought but there’s no way out. I have to do it. It’s them or me.
It’s the early hours and I’m sitting on the bed hugging my knees to my forehead. A couple of hours ago it suddenly hit me that I’ve been accepti
ng all this stuff, the funky blood, the incarceration at Plan Bee, Cain springing me from the facility even though he’s a scientist working on the very thing I was there for, and now...well, what about now?
I open the drawer of the bedside cabinet and grab an old pen and a magazine from the coffee table and write everything down in a timeline in one of the margins, from the moment I passed out at the café to now. Where did everything change? Okay...it’s a no-brainer, it was when they discovered my blood wasn’t what they expected, but what about after that? I’ve spoken to three people since I left the facility, Cain, Cecily Cunningham, and Luna. Cain and Luna would have me believe that Cecily wants me captured and killed, but I only have their word. Cecily was less than friendly when I visited her at her apartment, but what had she been told about me? Had Cain told her I was a danger to her? Is that why she threatened me with arrest and death if I didn’t leave her apartment? And why didn’t she arrest me? She could easily have overwhelmed me. Doesn’t she have a weapon? Surely she does? This woman is a tough cookie. I don’t get it.
I turn my attentions to Cain and Luna. They’ve told me that Luna has the same blood as I do, but does she? How can I know for certain? They’re adamant that Cecily Cunningham and Simone Deveraux should be taken out, but if Cain is to be believed they are as much a danger to Luna as they are to me, so why hasn’t she tried to kill them, bearing in mind she says she has killed already? She and Cain didn’t know anything about me until recently, and they made it sound as if all this has been going on for some time, perhaps without realising they’d let it slip. When Luna spoke about being part of a trial into cystic fibrosis it didn’t sound recent. Something’s wrong. I can feel it in my gut. Mum always told me that whenever I was uncertain about something, considering it with my head or my heart was a waste of time because they never gave you the truth. They were influenced by emotion and personality which were unreliable, that only your gut told you the truth, and right now it’s telling me I’m being played.