CHAPTER TWELVE
The car came to a sudden halt and Amelia was roused from her sleep. She removed the cloth from her eyes, then stared at the house before her. She had seen images of such magnificence only on television and the Internet. For a long time, she remained in her seat, still and unable to move.
“I don’t have all day,” James said. His voice cracked through her vacant thoughts.
“Where are we? Is this the Central? Why am I here?”
“Stop, please.”
She wanted to grab the man and shake the answers out of him. Crushed by his silence, she followed him and looked around in awe. Houses lined one side of the road, each house occupying the equivalent of three houses in Area Eleven. On the opposite side of the road were acres of land with decorative gardens.
“Amelia!”
James was becoming impatient with her very existence. In the short period of time he had spent with her, he had come to dislike her. Of course, he simply did not understand what it was about her that made him agitated. As she walked towards him with her curly brown hair blowing against the cool sun, she smiled at him. He flared his nostrils with distaste and sighed loudly.
“I don’t like you either,” Amelia whispered as she walked past him.
If he had any doubts about it before, they all disappeared. He loathed her.
They walked towards the large gates that led to the house. In the middle lay a pathway made of cobblestones and on either side, fresh flowers blossomed. Amelia had never seen anything like it. Unable to refrain from her sudden desire to touch them, she reached over and picked a flower.
“I just couldn’t help myself,” she said before James could object. She brought the blossom to her nose and inhaled a delicate aroma.
“What are they called?” Amelia asked.
“Wildflowers.”
“Are they always this beautiful?”
James paused for a moment and then said, “I guess they are.”
He walked on ahead, expecting Amelia to follow. But she stood there, turning and twisting each petal with morbid curiosity. It was too much for her to take in. She had never imagined she would ever touch a wildflower. Never did she imagine she would be in such a beautiful place. Suddenly, she remembered Diablo and his place; the contrast was shocking. She quickly brushed away the thoughts that stirred within her. They were too upsetting. Eventually, she withdrew her eyes from the wildflowers and followed James. She looked at the sky. She hadn’t noticed before but somewhere behind the grey clouds, the sun must have gone down, for it began to get dark.
“You’re easily distracted. He will not like that.”
Who was he? Just as the question came to her mind, she distracted herself. She knew she would be compelled to ask the question out loud. James stopped abruptly and looked behind. He was expecting her to say something, and her silence unsettled him.
When he paused for too long, Amelia overtook him and continued towards the large wooden door that gleamed from excessive polishing. The house was covered with ivy that snaked up the side of the imposing marble wall. She stood by the doorstep and waited for the door to be opened. James pushed beside her and typed a code into the alarm system keypad on his left. The door slowly swung open.
Before Amelia stood a staircase with a marble banister decorated with two grandiose statues of hawks, one placed on each side. Amelia propelled herself forward by a force unknown even to herself. For a moment, her feet were so light, she thought she was floating. She reached the staircase and brushed her hands against the smooth banister of the grand staircase. The hawk, of intricate gold design, seemed to gaze into her soul. She stared at the statue as though expecting it to come to life.
“You must be Amelia.” An unfamiliar voice broke through her reverie. She tried to look away from the statue but a force deep within her kept her transfixed. She shivered as she tore her gaze away from the hawk.
A man of about forty, of above-average height, stood in the doorway to her left. He had a broad, pleasant face with high cheekbones. His jet-black hair hung just below his ears and framed his round face. His narrow eyes were black and had an intense and thoughtful look under a wide brow. He had the air of an imposing gentleman.
“I am Haruto Naoki. You must be tired from travelling. Please come and join us for dinner.”
Amelia followed him to the large dining room to her left. The dining table in the middle could accommodate ten people and was laid exquisitely with food, the likes of which she had never seen. In the corner of the room, a woman with reddish blotches on her face stood conspicuously. She was too magnificently dressed and stood to one side, as though waiting for something. She glared at Amelia with icy-blue eyes.
The woman stepped towards the table with a rustling of her silken gown and lowered herself onto a chair.
Haruto beckoned for Amelia to sit. Reluctantly, Amelia obeyed. He then sat opposite her, next to the woman.
She stared at the white plate in front of her and felt a pinch of guilt tighten her throat. How could she enjoy such food, knowing her mother and brother were struggling on bread and soup?
For the longest time, Amelia merely stared at the empty plate, without any thought of helping herself to the food.
“How is your father?”
Haruto’s facial expression was blank as he asked the question. There was no indication that he knew what had become of Mr Raymond. Amelia did not want to inform a stranger about her father’s disappearance. She paused for a moment then shrugged.
“I heard he was in trouble with the authorities,” Haruto said. His voice was calm and calculated. Amelia stared at him as he ate a plate full of boiled potatoes and salad. Amelia was growing more paranoid by the second. She shuffled in her seat in agitation and wiped her dry lips on the back of her hand. Suddenly, the room felt smaller, and hot.
“I was under the impression that you had set off to find me,” Haruto said. The words escaped his mouth as nothing more than a whisper.
“Are you The Hawk?”
His silence reinforced Amelia’s suspicions. How did he find her? How did he know who she was?
Suddenly, Amelia pushed her chair back from the table and sat up straight. Even she wasn’t sure what she was doing.
Haruto observed how pensive and distracted she was. He pulled the napkin from his lap and patted his lips dry.
“Please, help yourself to the food,” he said.
“I don’t need food, I need answers.” Before she knew it, Amelia’s eyes burned. She tried to stifle the tears and gripped the wooden chair tightly.
“I will answer all your questions in due course. For now, you must do as I say.”
“I’m getting tired of doing what others want me to do. Give me answers or I’ll walk away,” hissed Amelia. She had suddenly grown animated and angry.
“Madeleine, please leave us,” Haruto said.
The woman, who had spent much of the time staring at Amelia with curiosity, pushed her chair back from the table and walked briskly out of the dining room. Amelia watched as her body bobbed in the distance. She had a peculiar, even comical walk that left Amelia bemused.
“I’m your father’s friend, a good friend,” Haruto said, his voice vibrating in the silence of the spacious room.
Amelia’s expression suddenly darkened. She turned to look at Haruto, her eyes lit with rage.
“You’re not a friend. A friend would never do as you have done. You threw him and his family under the bus whilst you’ve lived like a king.”
Haruto was taken aback and his face, now turned away, was extremely pale; he wore an expression of extraordinary suffering, as though he had been tortured.
“He chose that life. We all made our choices and lived by them.”
“Perhaps so, but in a time of need, where were you?” Amelia asked. Only when her throat ached did she realise she was shouting. Her body shook with anger and her hands were clenched tightly against the chair. “Why am I even here? Do you think this is somehow going to
atone for your actions?”
Haruto did not respond immediately. Amelia wished for an answer; anything would have been more bearable than the deafening silence she endured now.
“It was your father’s idea. We told him; no, rather, we warned him that his choice would have a grave consequence, not only for him, but for his family. That was a price he was willing to pay and as a friend, a true friend, I could only support him in his choice, regardless of how preposterous it was.” Haruto paused for a moment. Abruptly, he got to his feet, looked around as though confused, and paced towards a large window at the back of the room. He was pale, his eyes vacant, and he suddenly looked exhausted.
“Why didn’t you share some of your wealth at least?”
Haruto laughed nervously. For a while, his laughter echoed in the room, even after he had stopped.
“Your father is a proud man. He would rather die than ask for or accept help.”
“But…” Amelia began to argue but soon realised she had no more straws to grasp at. All she said was, “They are going to kill him.”
Haruto turned away from the window and looked at Amelia. He saw her eyes glisten as she fought to stay strong. Unable to contain herself, her lips began to quiver and tears coursed down her cheeks. Her sadness quickly turned into self-loathing. She did not want to cry in front of him. A curse rose up in her soul as she wiped away the tears.
“I won’t let that happen,” Haruto said.
Amelia nodded, more as a reflex than anything else. She wanted to believe him, but she saw nothing in the man’s eyes that gave her hope.
“When can I leave here?” Amelia asked.
“I have brought you here as a promise to your father,” he replied.
“What? Have you seen him? Or spoken to him? Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”
“Amelia, please. I made your father a promise a long time ago. We all made promises to one another if such a circumstance were to present itself. I have not seen nor heard from him recently.”
“Who are the we you keep referring to, and what was the promise?” As Amelia asked the question, fear crept into her heart, and she became apprehensive of his every word and gesture.
“Your father, myself, and two other friends—”
Before Haruto had a chance to finish his sentence, Amelia turned her back to him. “Where are the other two?”
“One is suspected dead and the other lives,” continued Haruto. His expression was now frozen and serious.
“What does suspected dead mean? Surely he is either dead or not,” said Amelia. Haruto suddenly dissolved into nervous laughter, apparently unable to restrain himself.
“They call you The Hawk. That’s why…” Amelia’s voice suddenly trailed off. So many thoughts surfaced at once, it became difficult for her to keep up. Of course she should have realised from the moment she saw the statues. Amelia now sat on the chair and appeared calm, then got up once again and began pacing, arms crossed, lips pressed tightly together.
Haruto was becoming agitated by her pacing. Unable to bear it any longer, he pleaded with her to stay still. Amelia stopped and smiled feebly.
“I did go by that name. In any case, that isn’t important. We must focus our energy on getting your father released. I will train you, physically and mentally, but you must be patient. It could take weeks, perhaps months, before we can do anything tangible—”
“I don’t have that much time,” interrupted Amelia.
“You do… They will not kill your father.”
Haruto went to the table, examined the food, and walked towards the foot of the staircase. “I will see you tomorrow morning, Amelia. Make yourself at home.”
Amelia watched as he walked past the stairs and disappeared to the left. His footsteps echoed in the silence as she stood, bewildered.
Coming in June 2014, the next in the Defiance series.
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Defiance Page 14