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Darkshines Seven

Page 13

by Russell Mardell


  9

  Sam was staring into his rucksack when Callie knocked lightly on the door, took his non-committal grunt as permission to enter, and took a seat next to him on the bed.

  ‘Hey, you okay? Or is that the stupidest question you’ve heard all day?’

  That got a smile from Sam, and that in turn made Callie smile for the first time since Dean and Jo had still been in her life, playing out their deception of friendship.

  ‘Are you as freaked out as me?’ Callie asked. ‘I really don’t know what we’ve just seen. That girl…’

  ‘She’s possessed. Haven’t you read books?’

  Sam’s casualness shocked her, and Callie found the comforting words and let’s-be-friends lightness of touch she had prepared, falling away. To hear her fears confirmed by a young boy made her feel both scared and stupid. ‘Possessed?’

  ‘That’s what she seems to be saying to us.’

  ‘You believe in that do you?’

  Sam shrugged. ‘Not really. I dunno. I believe in what I can see.’

  Callie saw an angry red streak across Sam’s neck, and then she was running tips of fingers along her own, and just for a second Silence was there behind her again, and that knife was against her skin.

  ‘This rucksack…’ Sam began, and then stopped, holding up the bag for Callie to see.

  ‘Very nice.’

  ‘No it isn’t. It’s a child’s rucksack. I had this on when we escaped and came here. It always reminds me of my mum. She bought it for my seventh birthday because I had said I wanted to go camping with some friends and their family. They went every year, just some little spot out in a forest somewhere close by. I’d never been camping and I moaned about it until she finally gave in and said I could go with them. She never understood the idea of camping. She used to watch too many films. Too many mad axe men out there in forests in the films. She liked her hotels and en-suites and room service. I just wanted to play Cowboys and Indians out in the forest. I wanted to be a tracker. I wanted to get lost.’

  ‘Not a very good tracker then?’ Callie said with a laugh and nudged Sam playfully.

  ‘No, I mean I wanted to get lost from my mum and my house and everything. My school. The estate I lived on. The noise. People. All of it. I just wanted to disappear in the forest. That probably doesn’t make any sense to you?’

  ‘You’ve met my brother, you think I haven’t wanted to disappear from time to time?’

  They laughed together and it was the nicest feeling Callie could remember.

  ‘Thing is, when it all happened…when the country…when it…I was actually lost and it was the worst thing in the world. I don’t want to get lost any more. Not then. Not now. I would give anything to hear the noise of that flat again, my mum singing her stupid songs when she’s had a few too many at the pub or Mr Evans’ TV blaring through the wall. I’d love to hear all that again.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Do you?’

  Callie nodded. ‘But this is so beautiful out here. The wood and all this empty land. It really feels like it belongs in another time. It feels safe.’

  ‘I don’t feel safe. I feel lonely.’

  Callie squeezed Sam’s left hand and pulled him closer. For a moment neither said anything, they just enjoyed the moment of silent understanding.

  The boy said he was lonely. This was the boy that would be his assassin? This weak and vulnerable little wretch? Frosty bollocks’ sister was squeezing him tight and damn if he didn’t need that hug right then. Then he is breaking the hug and asking her about her family and where she came from and what happened to her. He needs confirmation of where he is and what he is doing. He needs to know that he is right to be here and right to be hiding away. He needs too much. He is still a little boy. The assassin is a little boy…

  ‘We lived in the capital. Born there, grew up there, went to school and college there. Loved it there. I loved the organized chaos. I loved being in a place where shops and cafes were still open in the evenings and that there was always something to do and somewhere to go. Twenty years there and in terms of seeing all there was to see I didn’t even scratch the surface. Hector and I always said we were going to do one of those bus rides that the tourists take, so we could actually see all the wonderful places that were on our doorstep but we had never found the time to visit. Daft isn’t it?’

  ‘What about your family?’

  ‘We got separated after it happened. You probably don’t know but they had coaches taking people out of the capital. All over the country. Trains too, I think. Well, mum and dad got pushed onto the one coach and Hector and I were shoved onto another. We had cousins not far from here so we knew where we would meet up, so it didn’t really matter. But, well…’ Callie’s words drifted out for a moment and then came back quietly, as if she were a radio presenter at the mercy of a moving dial, ‘you know, that was a long coach journey, there were people fighting even then, right there on the coach. Amazed we got here really. We just hid down in our seats the whole way. There was this nice elderly couple on the seats opposite and they looked out for us.’

  ‘Your parents never arrived at your cousin’s house?’

  Callie shook her head and pursed her lips. ‘Our cousin’s house was pretty much gutted when we arrived there. We waited for weeks. They never came back and our parents never showed. It was Hector’s idea to set up base in the library. It was pretty well untouched, it was safe…so we thought, and our dad was a huge bookworm. He devoured books. Hector thought that if they get to City 17 then that was one place he was bound to end up in. He never did. Not yet.’

  Sam rested his left hand on Callie’s shoulder. Callie was now gazing at the walls in the bedroom, feigning interest in the scattershot posters of pop stars, soap actors and football players.

  ‘I must be getting old,’ Callie said through a weak laugh, ‘I have no idea who any of these people are.’

  ‘Me neither. I found them dumped in a bin behind a newsagent. I wanted something to cover up all the cracks. Shiny wallpaper.’

  ‘This is such a lovely house.’

  ‘It was. Yeah, it really was.’

  ‘Why would you say that?’

  ‘Because it’s not safe any more. Even if aunt Albie wasn’t sure that we had to help Mia, having a Party member find us out here, whether he’s telling the truth or not, she won’t want to stay here. I may only be twelve and a half and I may not know much, but I’m pretty sure once we leave here we won’t be coming back.’

  You’re right about that Sam.

  10

  Tommy was perched on the edge of Albie’s bed, once more staring back at a gun barrel, only this time he wasn’t anywhere near as scared as he had been before. Hector Frost wasn’t someone to be feared. He was no Mia, no Party Plod, and certainly no Jacob Silence. At that moment only two things scared him – the thought that Silence might slip inside his mind again and rummage around, and whatever undiluted lunacy was standing across the room from him, bound up in Mia Hennessey – and right now that was more than enough for Tommy.

  ‘Interesting that in this situation, you feel you need to have that gun pointed on me. Your welcoming committee already frisked me. I’m unarmed. What do you think I’m going to do?’

  ‘You’re Party Plod. I wouldn’t put anything past you.’

  ‘How many people know you’re here?’ Albie asked from the back of the room. ‘How many people saw you escape?’

  ‘No one knows I’m here. I told you, a friend got me out of there. Got me a car. I took the safest route I knew out of the city. Hoped you had too.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…’ Mia was weeping steadily. She was facing the wall next to the window, refusing to look at the others. ‘I’m so sorry Albie. This is my fault. I should have stayed away from all of you. People aren’t safe around me.’

  ‘What’s done is done, Mia.’

  ‘This isn’t done yet. This is far from done.’

  ‘But I need you to help me und
erstand.’

  ‘I have to do this. I have no choice. Neither do you. Please…please help me. Please help me be rid of him. Please help me to be safe.’

  ‘We will. I promise we will.’

  ‘I just want to stop running. I just want to be safe again.’

  ‘The Party will never stop hunting you, Mia. I told you that,’ Tommy said. ‘They are scared of you.’

  ‘Why does The Party care about her?’ Albie asked, moving to the doorway and rubbing a hand across the furry ginger back of the guard standing there. ‘What have you done, Mia?’

  ‘They think I’m a killer,’ Mia replied flatly. ‘They think I’ve got it in me to kill.’

  You do, bitch. You do.

  Mia sunk to her knees by the window and the tears came on strongly, both hands now over her face. In the doorway Blarney made a tentative step in her direction and then stopped and cocked his head on one side.

  Albie moved past Hector, limping slightly and feeling her right leg, and stood in front of Tommy. ‘This friend…the one who helped you escape, they saw which direction you went?’

  ‘I guess they did.’

  ‘Don’t guess. I need you to know.’

  ‘Yes. He saw which direction, but he won’t…’

  ‘Then we leave now. We don’t wait until dawn, we go now. Whilst it’s still dark.’

  ‘Are you seriously going to take her back to that city?’ Hector asked.

  ‘We all are.’

  ‘Are you insane?’

  ‘Someone in this room probably is. Probably safer if it was me, wouldn’t you think? We go now. Before whatever is happening to this poor girl ends up killing her, and before some Party scumbags roll out here and kill us. If that’s insanity then sign me up.’

  ‘So you take her to this Darkshines place, and then what? What happens then?’

  ‘We take her, Hector…we all do. That attitude isn’t going to help any of us.’

  ‘When did it become we? A couple of hours ago I didn’t even know you existed. When I woke up the only thing bothering me was a lack of shoes. Since she landed in my life I’ve been beaten up, shot at, lost my hideout and nearly had to watch my sister being killed. Believe me, I was a much nicer person this morning.’

  ‘Storm Tail cove,’ Tommy said abruptly.

  ‘What’s that, scumbag?’ Hector snapped.

  ‘You go to the coast. There are people that will get you out and get you to safety. Storm Tail is the nearest to City 17. That’s where you go. If you’ve any sense.’

  ‘And how do you know that?’

  ‘Benefits of the job. There had been rumours amongst the patrols. Got to a point where one of them had to go and see for themselves. They saw ships. A lot of them. They saw people getting out.’

  ‘Why would The Party stand for that?’

  ‘Because they don’t know about it. As far as I know none of the patrols ever said anything to the top brass.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Never know when you might need to use it yourself,’ Tommy said in an over-friendly tone that had no place in that room or that moment. ‘That’s where you should go, Albie. All of you. All of us.’

  ‘Don’t think you’re coming anywhere with us once this charade is done with. We don’t want Party scum anywhere near us.’

  ‘First things first,’ Albie said, walking unsteadily back to the doorway, trying to take control of the situation. ‘We need to get out of here. Now. Get your things together.’

  ‘You’re worrying unduly, believe me, Albie.’

  ‘Worrying unduly is why I’m still alive, Tommy. I’d love to believe you, but as you said yourself…’

  ‘Beliefs get you killed.’ The words came from Mia, that low, scratching voice had returned. Mia had floated away again. Milo Singer was back in control. Mia stood and wandered over to the window, running an index finger slowly along the curtains. Tommy began to edge along the bed until he was almost falling off. ‘Personally I think you should kill this Party stooge and be done with it. It’s interesting to me how only the youngling seems to have a heart for violence amongst your pitiful little band. The boy would kill this intruder without a second thought. That is his belief. He understands. Even my little Mia doesn’t understand. She won’t kill. She is trying so hard to hang onto that little piece of her because she has seen what it does. She knows people will always be judged for the evil that they perpetuate. But how else do you survive in a world fallen apart? Even you Alberta, you have hidden away for so long, hoping to ride out the madness and yet the madness ends up finding you. You can’t escape what this country has become, you can’t hold on to goodness any more.’

  ‘Singer?’

  ‘Alberta…my dear.’

  A hundred questions were stacking up in Albie’s mind. ‘You were an inmate at Darkshines?’

  ‘Time to go, Alberta. Round up your merry band.’

  ‘Answer me.’

  ‘He called us madmen. When he came there were only two of us left. The only ones who had anything to offer. Our gifts were weapons for them. But I would not relent.’

  ‘The Party wanted you?’

  ‘They wanted what I could do. They wanted what he could do. They got him. They would never have me. They sent me to Bleeker Hill and then I truly did become a madman. Now those sins needed to be accounted for. Now Audley Thinwater must be killed.’

  ‘But…’ Albie let the word sit there, her mouth working around air, looking for words that could question the unimaginable.

  ‘Who was the other person?’ Tommy asked the back of Mia’s head.

  Mia turned around slowly and faced the others, her left eye had rolled back into her head, and the right was bloodshot and wild, flicking between each person. Tommy jerked backwards in shock and toppled off the edge of the bed. Singer raised a finger to Mia’s lips, her one visible eye now flashing with a wicked malevolence. ‘Ssshhh, he’s listening…’

  11

  The word was an echo right through Jacob Silence. Darkshines. At first he had assumed it was nothing more than his mind dredging up a memory from one of those deep and dark places he used to store away things he no longer wished to remember. But the word kept coming, kept echoing, calling to him –

  Darkshines.

  He released his hold on the two child corpses and stared off across the room at the peeling floral wallpaper on the opposite wall. Did I recognise that voice? No. My memory. That voice belongs to that memory. That is all.

  It was not the girl you feared. It was the person inside her.

  Impossible.

  Silence stood, and stretched his long bony frame.

  Darkshines.

  He swayed slightly and then left the room without looking back. Sam was still caught in his mind, fading slowly, but still showing enough for Silence’s needs. They are leaving the cottage now, one by one, climbing into that carpet truck because it has more fuel than the car. The boy is driving. The older woman next to him in the cab, Callie next to her. The mutt, the haircut and Tommy are in the back with…Mia was still a blur to him. It felt as though he was watching her through a waterfall. She was an apparition, a figure moving gracelessly around shadows that would not reveal their secret. Then in one moment she was not there at all, not a trace, not a hint. What walked in her place was taller, wider, uglier, darker. A monster of memory.

  Darkshines, Jacob. I can feel you watching. I can feel you trying to see. All roads intersect old friend.

  Silence collapsed to his knees outside the giant doors that gave onto the mansion. The rain came hard and unforgiving high above, battering his hooded skull as his fingers dug into the gravel driveway and the connection he had made unravelled. Minutes stretched around him and he wouldn’t move. Couldn’t move. Slowly his right hand unclenched and he splayed it wide and let the gravel fall from his fingers. Then the hand was disappearing inside the tanned pouch and retrieving his small flask, the cherished gift from Jack Raizbeck, his old cellmate. He took it under his hood and rest
ed the nozzle against dry lips. The catch came tentatively. Silence pushed slowly and then there he was back in his old prison cell, and there was his boss, packing his paltry belongings and facing an open door and their jailor Hudson beyond it, whistling, waiting, swinging his chain of keys.

  ‘I want you to have something, Jacob. This was my father’s. He liked a tipple. This flask here was a part of him. It was his constant friend. It may be a poor representation, the damn drink killed him after all, but I want you to have it. Please. Take it as a thank you.’

  ‘A thank you for what?’

  ‘For being a constant friend.’

  Silence could feel the warmth of their embrace even under the rain and the sharp breeze. He tilted his head and took a hefty swig from the flask.

  ‘I have nothing to give you, my friend,’ he said to the sky and to Raizbeck at the same time.

  ‘You have an extraordinary gift, Jacob. If you want to give me anything give me a promise. You promise me that you will never waste what you have. Oh, and if you could see your way clear to not peeking into my old mind, that would be welcome. Don’t want to go snooping around in there.’

  Laughter. A friendship, forged by circumstance – fate some would call it – and in that moment of separation, stronger than ever. Silence had been good to his word and until now had never pushed himself into Raizbeck’s mind. Now though it was unavoidable, the catch was running wild on him. An old memory had kicked open a door that had long since been closed.

  His cell at Darkshines. They said it was a room. It was a cell. It was another prison. But worse than that, he was called a crazy person. How long had he been there? A year? More, probably. Down below the building, out of sight, in the place known as The Hole, where they kept the people they didn’t want to admit existed, there are seven cells. Seven different people screaming each night. Whispers of something called The Wash. They take your mind, people are saying. Sometimes they came in the night and then the next day there would be six people, five people, four people screaming. Now there is just Silence and Singer. That really crazy bastard in the next cell. He will taunt them when they come to him and he seems to take pride in the torture. They won’t break him. They won’t have him. He and Singer have been spared The Wash. They have gifts, Singer is saying. The Party wants them. The Party wants them as weapons.

 

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