by Mark Ayre
At his sister, Adam bent. With one hand, he threw her over his shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
Bethany was unsure. Surrounded by the dying agents’ screams, she questioned her actions. Was she fleeing the law, siding with murderers?
Adam was cute. He had saved her from a man who, no doubt, intended to perform non-consensual wicked acts on her. Neither of these necessarily made Adam good. As one agent’s repulsive behavior didn’t make the suits bad.
He gave her no choice.
Despite being on the verge of collapse, he carried his sister and dragged Bethany toward the wall of flames, where there had once been SUVs and agents.
As though it had been Eve’s intention, at the far left of the flaming wall, a corridor remained open. Through this, they plunged as Caldwell screamed and bullets fired.
On the other side, around the corner, there was the hotel’s small staff parking lot. On the building’s back wall were a fire exit and staff entrance. Adam ignored both.
Of six cars, two were parked against the hotel’s seven-foot perimeter wall.
With a gasp of pain and exhaustion, Adam released Bethany’s hand and collapsed to the gravel. He only just kept Eve over his shoulder.
Bethany noticed the sister’s eyes were open.
“Need to get over,” Adam said. “Now.”
The agents hadn’t followed. On their heels, had the tunnel collapsed into the blaze? On this mad evening, perhaps anything was possible.
“All those people,” Bethany said, stepping back. “All that screaming. Fire. Oh God, she… your sister, she…”
“We take no joy in killing,” Adam said. “We act only in self-defense. That man would have raped you. He’s not indicative of this organization, but they are evil. Pure evil.”
She stared. Something occurred to her.
“That’s the most I’ve heard you say.”
“Eve’s the talker,” he said. “I just fill in when she’s away.”
Away seemed a curious choice of word. Even if he were inclined to discuss its use, now was neither the time nor the place.
Fighting the urge to drop, to sleep for a week, Adam dragged himself to feet and heaved Eve toward one of the cars against the wall. Bethany watched him climb onto the roof, hoist his sister onto the wall, and hop atop the brick.
Frightened, unsure, Bethany remained on the ground, looking up but not following.
Adam extended a hand.
“You’ve no reason to trust me, but these guys will kill you. Once you’re safe, I promise you’ll never have to see us again.”
Still, fear paralyzed her.
From behind them, the shouts of the agents coming around the other side of the building could be heard. Any second, they’d arrive.
Adam should have gone. Hand outstretched, he waited.
Someone shouted, “There.”
As though an evil spell had frozen her and there was the magic release word, she hopped onto the bonnet, the roof, and allowed him to pull her over the wall.
After her, he dropped to the concrete, holding Eve.
Together, they fled.
An endless font of knowledge, Caldwell’s boss had followed his advice about the dangers of Eve with a handy hint about Adam.
When everything was unraveling, Caldwell had forgotten she was no fool. She had hoped to take Adam and Eve in their beds. In the unlikely event they evaded capture, a well-organized net around the building was supposed to prevent the duo from escaping even if invisible.
A professional through and through, Caldwell’s impressive track record had been achieved not by relying on plan A, however well planned that might be. Contingency had always been part of her strategy. This was no different.
Before she departed, the boss had said, “The boy is a bleeding heart. Might be useful.”
One of her backup plans involved the receptionist. Leaving Bethany with a man she knew would take advantage of their alone time was a strategy. If Adam hadn’t intervened, her employee would have raped the girl. Though this would have troubled Caldwell, it was worth the moral collateral for the potential upside.
Adam had bumped into Bethany and the agent. From there, everything had proceeded as she’d hoped.
She made a call. Within three rings, it was answered.
“Ma’am?”
“Are you in place?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“They’re coming your way. You know what to do?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. I’m on my way. Don’t let me down.”
“No, ma’am.”
She hung up, left the area search to her second, and drove to plan B.
In a town this size, independent hotels were plentiful.
Even once narrowed to those which displayed their empty rooms for all to see, there were several. Despite thinking they were safe, Adam and Eve had taken the time to map potential escape routes at several such venues before making their choice.
Keep one step ahead at all times, their mother had said. Even if you don’t know who you’re running from.
On the other side of the car park wall, a combination of commercial and residential properties lined a two-lane street.
Most of the venues were run down. Across the street from the parking lot wall, an independent adult bookstore and an accountant’s office with a flaking green door sandwiched a narrow archway into an alley.
Dragging heavy feet, Eve over his shoulder, Bethany on his tail, Adam crossed to the arch and dipped into the alley.
At its end, brick walls and wood fences boxed in a courtyard. Beyond the fences were back gardens, reconnoitered earlier by the twins. Heading straight for the shortest gate, Adam reached over and released the bolt.
“Do you live here?” Bethany asked.
Adam looked back, saw the receptionist chide herself.
“Of course you don’t.”
“Come on,” he said.
Beyond the gate, cracked stone slabs led to a back door. To the right of the slabs were a musty smelling shed and overgrown garden, tangled with weeds. Next to the back door, a dirty window looked into a darkened kitchen. Above, drawn curtains covered two more windows.
A padlock over the shed latch gave the illusion of security. Adam turned the key, pulled the lock free, and carried Eve inside.
It was damp, dark, and awash with cobwebs. Thankfully, Adam could hear no scurrying feet, which might indicate rats. Hopefully, had any been about, they had gone underground to sleep.
Placing his sister on the boards, he glanced over the threshold to an afraid Bethany.
“Five minutes,” he said. “Recovery time.”
She remained on the grass. Inside the shed, Adam tried to get comfortable on the hard, dusty floor. An impossible task. Legs crossed, already aching, he returned his attention to Bethany.
“In or out,” he said, “Either way, close the door.”
He studied his sister. She’d be furious when she awoke. In saving the girl, he had risked everything. If she let him, he’d take her home. It was stupid and against everything their mother had taught them. Unlike Eve, Adam lacked the strength to think of no one but themselves.
“Bethany?”
Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the house before nodding, stepping inside, and closing the door.
Woken by a knock at the door, Tracy and Richard checked their glowing bedside clocks and groaned in tandem.
“She forgot her key. That’s her problem,” Tracy said, pulling the duvet to her chin. “Leave her on the doorstep, I say. Shift shouldn’t be over yet anyhow.”
“Yes, dear,” Richard said. He was already up, pulling on his dressing gown and rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Mug,” Tracy said.
“Got to maintain position as the favorite parent.”
Downstairs, Richard opened the front door to find, not his daughter, but a tall woman in a suit who held a laminated ID card. Behind her was a short, bored man.
; “Agent Caldwell, MI6,” the woman said. “Is this the home of a Miss Bethany Morrison?”
The sun was rising. The gloom of the night refused to relent. Richard was still surprised these black-suited agents weren’t wearing sunglasses. Too much television, no doubt.
“It is,” he said. “But she works nights, so she ain’t here.”
“Are you Bethany’s father?”
There was no car on the drive, or in sight. Did the taxpayer’s dime not stretch to vehicles for government agents? Had they walked? Thumbed a ride? Was there a helicopter in his back garden?
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“I’m afraid your daughter’s in terrible danger,” Caldwell said. “If you let me in, I’ll explain exactly how we’re going to save her.”
Eve was sweating. Bethany watched Adam mop her brow with a handkerchief.
Her eyes were open. She was still.
“Is she okay?”
Adam smiled, pressing his fingers to his sister’s neck. “Has a pulse.”
Pulse or no, Eve looked dead. Adam loved her. There was no way he hadn’t seen this before, lots of times, or he’d be freaking out.
She thought of the SUVs, exploding as Eve lifted her arms. Saw the agents burning, heard them screaming.
She threw her head into her hands as though the visions were in the shed rather than her head. As though she could close her eyes and cease to see them.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“No,” he agreed. He mopped his sister’s brow again, then leaned back, resting his head against the wood, watching her. “You got family out of town? Or friends?”
“What?”
He cocked his head, but he didn’t repeat himself. It was as though he’d loaned his voice box and had to pay by the word.
“I live with my parents, ten minutes from here.”
“Eve and I will be gone soon as she wakes,” he said. “They’ll probably leave you alone after that.”
“Probably?” She could not keep the frightened squeak from her voice.
He nodded. She waited for him to speak, but he forced her to connect the dots.
“You think they might leave me alone right away, but it’s best if I go away for a while? Come back when they’re definitely gone?”
Adam nodded.
“How long’s a while?”
He shrugged. “The longer, the better.”
He was so calm. Leaning against the shed wall, he was in some discomfort. He shifted a little, but his face showed no unease.
Only his eyes revealed the truth of his feeling.
As though realizing she’d seen his heart, he said, “Sorry.”
“Sorry that, because of you, I have to leave home—that my life is in danger? That why you’re sorry?”
“We’ve done nothing wrong,” he said. “Never asked to be targeted. I’m sorry they involved you.”
Bethany felt like breaking down, like screaming or attacking. How could he be so calm when telling her that her life was in danger? She looked at Eve. She couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t move. Useless.
“Who are you two? What are you?”
Adam waved this away. Pressing one hand to the wall, he dragged himself upright, leaning into the shed’s corner. His face was red. Closing his eyes, he took long, deep breaths, regaining his strength.
After a minute, he looked to her again. “So?”
“Huh?” She had drifted a little, thinking of Caldwell, of the man who might have raped her if not for Adam. “So what?”
“You got somewhere?”
She nodded. One of her uni friends would put her up for a while. A few days, a couple of weeks. Longer if she needed it.
“Will my parents be safe?”
“Probably.”
She let out a sob. Had to grab the windowsill so as not to collapse through the cobwebs into the dust.
“Sorry,” he said again.
“Whatever.”
Nodding as though she had made an agreeable point, he pushed from the wall and hovered over his sister. For a few seconds, he stood, then lowered to his knees and withdrew his hanky. Bethany assumed he would again dab her brow. Instead, he slid the bundled white cloth into her fist. This done, he kissed her head.
When he rose, she said, “You didn’t answer. Who are you two?”
“Better you don’t know.”
He opened the door. Stood back so she could pass.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll help you pack.”
Plumes of smoke rose from the hotel.
Two streets away, chuckling, a man in blue jeans and a black jacket made a call. When his boss answered, he cut the laugh fast. His beaming smile remained.
“Hello, boss. Donnelly here.”
“Donnelly.” The boss sighed. “I thought I said I’d call if you were needed.”
“I remember, sir, and I’m sorry to bother you. Only, I wanted to make sure you were getting up to date info. It’s not that I’d question the integrity of your favorite, sir, but—”
“Donnelly,” the boss cut in. “How about you take a second to remember who you’re talking to, then get to the point?”
There was an edge to the boss’s voice so sharp Donnelly had to withdraw the phone to avoid getting cut. It was a personality fault, he knew. He struggled to respect authority. Struggled to keep his tone in check.
“Apologies,” he said. “I drove past the hotel a minute ago. The girl has destroyed Caldwell’s team. Smoke is hundreds of meters in the air. Looks like a call for help on a remote island, you know?”
The boss considered. Donnelly did not worry he might have gotten it wrong—that Caldwell might have sent through an update covering Donnelly’s revelation. She knew the cost of failure. Wouldn’t admit to it until all avenues of hope were extinguished. Even then, she might choose to flee the country over honesty. A course of action that would not be without merit.
“This is concerning,” the boss confessed. “And I suppose you’re conjecturing that, despite this destruction, Caldwell has not apprehended the twins.”
“If she had, I think she’d have been in touch, don’t you?”
“Tone,” the boss warned.
“Sorry, sir.”
The boss returned to silence. From his pocket, Donnelly removed a device upon which a tiny light flashed. Smiling, he returned to the driver’s side door of his car.
“I am not sentimental,” the boss said. “Caldwell is my favorite because she has been an exceptional agent. As such, she deserves every chance to complete her mission.”
“Of course, sir.”
“That being said, there’s a reason I’ve sent you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I cannot afford another screw-up. We cannot miss the twins this time. We simply cannot.”
“Agreed, sir.”
“I don’t care if you agree.”
Donnelly nodded, though the boss couldn’t see him. Taking the phone from his face, he put the boss on speaker and started scrolling through his music. After the call, he didn’t have far to go. Even so, he would need a good song to get pumped.
“Find Caldwell,” the boss said. “Follow her, prepare to offer support. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
“Donnelly,” the boss warned. “I don’t want you getting in her way.”
“Of course not, sir.”
“Between you, get this done.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And don’t call again before it is.”
There were no goodbyes. The boss hung up, leaving Donnelly to finalize his song choice.
Aha, that was it.
Starting the car, playing the tune, he pulled from the pavement.
He would go to Caldwell, but not to help her. No way was she getting the twins before him.
Smiling more broadly than ever, he drove off at speed, singing ABBA’s “Waterloo” as he went.
Via backstreets and roads the sun seemed not yet to
have found, Adam escorted Bethany home.
The first half of their journey was conducted in silence. The absence of conversation had never been as alarming to Adam as it was to others. Bethany, a natural talker, was afraid, but working toward confidence. She had many questions.
Adam could not help but feel an affinity toward her. She reminded him of Frannie, the first girl outside of his family to whom he had felt close. Unlike his family, she was delicate, innocent, and prone to fear.
Behind his mother’s back, Adam had dated her. Eve knew because Eve knew everything about him. She wasn’t happy, but wouldn’t grass. She had warned Adam it didn’t matter. Before long, their mother would learn the truth.
Indeed she had. When she confronted Adam, enthralled as he was by his teenage crush, he had done something new. He had fought back. In the end, she retreated. Elated to have won, he went to bed with a smile.
The following day, their mother had moved them cross-country. Adam had never seen his first love again. True love, he wouldn’t find until after his mother was gone.
“They want you because you’re not normal,” Bethany said at last.
Adam raised his eyebrows. Tried not to smile as horror spread across her features when she realized she might have offended.
“I only mean you can do things no one else can. Eve blew up all those cars. Killed all those people. And you… they couldn’t see us when you were holding my hand. You can turn invisible.”
“And inaudible.”
Shocked, struggling to compute, she shook her head as though rejecting his claim. He knew she believed him. Firsthand, she had experienced their power.
“How do you know Eve’s okay?”
“It’s happened before. She’ll be back.”
“What’s happened to her?”
Surrounded by agents and explosions, and in the aftermath of their escape, Bethany had been terrified. A little removed from these events, even by only minutes, she was able to feel a little excitement. If she survived, what a story she’d have to tell.
Not that anyone would believe her.
“Prolonged use of my ability causes migraines, temporary loss of sight, and disorientation. Usually, if I hold on too long, I blackout. Occasionally, I’ll suffer a seizure.”