The Radical (Unity Vol.1)

by Lynch, S. M.

  ‘Oh, god,’ I heard myself say.

  It was the first time I had spoken since leaving the drain. Ryken saw the same thing ‒ the shell of an old castle. The turrets were crumbling, the main tower was moss-covered and the grounds, probably once immaculately kept, were full of weeds, wild animals and rubble. Vast, geometric gapes were visible right along the walls; presumably huge stones of the castle had found a new purpose as flood defenses nearby.

  We explored the grounds somberly, passing through it as though visiting a graveyard. So much was lost, not just life.

  We came to what appeared to be some old stables situated within the grounds, fell on some mossy earth inside and shivered into some semblance of sleep.

  Ryken

  While she slept almost the minute we hit the ground, I did not. For a long while, I lay beside her, staring at her face. When she began shivering, I removed my jacket and unfolded it over both of us, pulling her into my arms for warmth. In sleep, she huddled against me. It gave me an overwhelming sense of pride and hope. My adrenalin levels refused to go down, despite my own crippling exhaustion, and I drifted in and out of sleep all night.

  When we embraced in the sewer, my mouth went dry, my legs weak and my heart thumped so hard I thought she could probably see it. I knew I was quickly falling in love with this woman, Seraph Maddon. My heart, mind and loins had never agreed more on anything else before.

  When we were running, I noticed the strength in her limbs, the determination on her face. She was a woman to be reckoned with; of spirit, intelligence and breeding, and something that was gradually sending me increasingly crazy.

  I dreamed about the way her mouth moved when she talked, how elegantly her fingers twirled when she played with her hair when deep in thought.

  When she jumped me in the car, I thought I had strayed into a dream. This goddess was sitting on my lap, with such sad, big blue eyes, desperate for rescue from the burden she carried.

  I knew it felt different with her. For the first time I wanted sex to mean more, and I needed intimacy.

  In the early hours I woke to find her shaking and covered in sweat. She had caught a fever. I helped her drink some water from a pouch I had in my jacket pocket and I used a cool handkerchief to wipe her brow.

  ‘I haven’t felt well all week,’ she moaned, more awake than I thought she was. She could barely open her eyes. ‘Broken sleep, nightmares, dizzy spells.’

  ‘Is your throat hurting?’ I reached out to feel her glands.

  ‘No, I just feel so cold.’

  ‘Your skin is burning, Seraph.’

  ‘I don’t get ill,’ she complained.

  ‘They contain viruses so well that now when you travel to other countries, you encounter strains of cold you never have before. You might be suffering the same as a child mingling at Kindergarten.’

  ‘Great.’

  I tucked my jacket tight around her and urged her to use her shoulder bag as a pillow.

  ‘I will make a fire,’ I told her. ‘It won’t be visible beyond the castle walls.’

  I found some dry twigs and leaves on the shed floor and some bits of old newspaper in a bin nearby. An added bit of hay, my old lighter and we had a roaring fire going in the barn, crackling and popping before our eyes. I moved back toward her and she had settled, staring at the flames.

  ‘It’s been a while since I slept like this. I used to do it a lot,’ she began.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah. Come and hold me again, will you? I am still so cold.’

  I laid down behind her and lifted the jacket to cover myself too but found her topless. I hesitated, unsure how to act.

  ‘You know you have no–’

  ‘My clothes were soaked through so I took them off. I have nothing clean.’

  I noticed her t-shirt and bra had been tossed across the room.

  ‘Hang on. You can’t lie on a cold floor with nothing on while you aren’t well,’ I asserted, my voice stern.

  I grabbed my own shoulder bag and pulled out a white undershirt. ‘Have this.’

  She grabbed it quickly and sat up on her elbows to pull it on. I had seen a hundred thousand breasts but seeing hers was a new experience. She wasn’t ashamed as they bounced in the firelight before me. I guessed she was ill and just doing what she needed to in order to make herself more comfortable ‒ yet the image was seared into my mind. She lay back down and I joined her under my jacket, wrapping my arms around her waist, using my own shoulder bag as another pillow.

  We settled and she shuddered.

  ‘I just need rest, I’ll be fine,’ she assured me, still shivering. I rubbed my hands over her arms and chest to warm her through.

  ‘You’re exhausted, Seraph. I see it in your eyes. If you want me to go for help, I will.’

  ‘Don’t be dumb, just stay with me. The fire is so comforting.’

  ‘I have some painkillers. They might help to bring the fever down?’

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ she murmured, so I slipped two out of the inside pocket of my coat and helped her sit up and swallow them down with some water. I winced to see her still so cold so I pulled up and yanked my jumper over my head.

  ‘On my chest, Seraph, take some warmth here,’ I instructed, and to my surprise she didn’t argue.

  She rubbed her face in my chest hair and I used the jumper to wrap it around her back, bringing the jacket back on top of us too.

  ‘Out here, it all seems different,’ she told me.

  ‘You should sleep, not talk.’

  ‘Just listen, will you? It might help.’

  ‘Okay,’ I accepted gently.

  ‘It all seems pointless now, you know? Like mingling with the hobos, offering my body, chasing and fighting, worming and sneaking and using my contacts is all just… such bullshit.’

  She paused and I felt her breath on my skin. She was something worth fighting for more than any other; having her there with me in the sanctuary of a ramshackle old shed was so peaceful. Seeing her naked and female, it took my breath away that she was also so tough.

  ‘What is your goal, angel? What do you want to do in the long-term? If we weren’t living in these times, if there were no emissaries or conspiracies to chase…’

  Calling her that came naturally. She was an angel, as her name suggested. I peered down and finally, she was sleeping. I had sent her to sleep with my words. I chuckled lightly, kissed her head and tried to rest but couldn’t completely. It was the thought of her vulnerability that had me grinning and wanting to weep. I wanted to stop her doing this ‒ living without thought for herself ‒ but would she ever listen?

  Seraph

  Shards of bright light crept through the cracks of the stable’s shell, rousing me from sleep. I woke feeling dehydrated, dizzy and still utterly drained. Every bone in my body ached and I moaned when I tried to move. I was wrapped in Ryken’s arms and for a moment, I savored his embrace. I remembered falling asleep on his chest but we had shifted in the night so that he was angled behind me, his arms criss-cross over my torso, some parts of him directly touching my breasts. The fire had burnt out but smoked still, filling the room with a pleasant replacement covering the stink of shit and mould.

  His breath against the back of my neck arrested me, as did his enormous bulk curling around mine. His arms tightened and I knew he was awake too.

  ‘How do you feel?’ he croaked, clearing his throat.

  ‘Better. Still awful. I’m not strong enough to fight today, nor traipse the land again.’

  ‘I understand but we can’t stay here either.’

  ‘I need the bathroom.’ How embarrassing…

  ‘Okay, right…’ his head popped up, looking around. ‘There are some piles of hay over at the back there. You go. I will walk into the town a little and see what we are dealing with.’

  ‘Yep. Don’t be long, though,’ I asked, turning to eye him.

  ‘I won’t, angel.’

  I didn’t mind the name he used for me, it was nice ac
tually. He leapt up and shook out his limbs and I marveled at his magnificent body, so heavy and muscular in every sense. I handed him his sweater and he threw it on while I struggled to get myself standing. I wobbled on my feet and tried to get my balance. I held my head and he was there instantly, taking my arms in his hands to steady me.

  ‘Shit, I feel terrible.’

  ‘Hang on, just a moment,’ he insisted. ‘Can you stand alone?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He knelt and rummaged in his bag, bringing out a dehydration treatment and a packet of some kind of paste.

  ‘Army supplies,’ he explained, ‘drink the fluid and eat that protein paste. It really tastes like shit but trust me, it works.’

  I nodded and ripped the foils open before downing them together. I would take anything if it made me feel better.

  ‘Ugh, fuck that was gross.’ I grimaced, unable to rid myself of the fish oil and salt aftertaste.

  ‘I know. So, you will be okay?’

  I caught him looking at the nipples protruding out of the white undershirt he had given me. Then I remembered I had changed right in front of him last night. Crap. I must have been ill.

  ‘Even taking a dump is not somethin’ I think you wanna see me do.’

  ‘Oh,’ he coughed, ‘right. By the way, best breasts I have ever seen, as a doctor or otherwise.’

  I smiled behind my hand with my back turned to him and chewed my lip. I couldn’t have been more horrified. He turned and walked away and I missed him the instant he was gone.

  After a recce, Ryken returned and told me he had found a vehicle so I started getting myself together. I had no energy to change, except to throw my leather jacket on top of his borrowed undershirt. I hoped the thought of my tits swinging freely would drive him nuts.

  Walking past modern as well as Tudor buildings, we trudged through litter and rubble scattered here and there, and eventually stumbled across the vehicle he had found, sat in the remnants of a garage. It was an old Nissan Aura, a puny and pathetic little shoebox of a vehicle for the likes of us to be squeezing ourselves into.

  Amazingly, there were sterile pouches of water in the back. Someone had obviously abandoned the car in a hurry – and more recently than 40 years ago. We each took one and drank with the thirst of 30.

  Ryken told me he had fiddled with the electrics to get it going but I had no faith in that ancient shit tip taking us anywhere. However, I would accept a wing and a prayer if it meant us reaching a proper bed at some stage.

  ‘I’ve worked on these old engines, if you’re wondering, and it’s a good job too, don’t you think?’

  ‘No matter how old you men get, you still need your toys, and your praise.’

  ‘Praise never goes amiss, it is true. Just look back at history to all the world leaders spurred on by their ambitious parents.’

  ‘Fuck all it did for me,’ I retorted.

  ‘Me too,’ he added. ‘I mean, Mum hated me going in the Army and Dad fucked off when I was a teenager.’

  ‘Oh,’ I managed to say, too weary to deal with his shit on top of mine. ‘Well, anyway, let’s not celebrate anything until we get this shit heap somewhere more civilized. Then maybe I will bow down to your mechanical skills.’

  I sat in the chair uncomfortably and allowed the seat belt to pass over my arm, feeling almost certain the vehicle would be the death of me. It was certainly a relic of another time, a jalopy of destruction!

  Ryken opened a map he had retrieved from his bag and scanned it.

  ‘And they thought I was an idiot for buying one of these old things. People just don’t think they can survive without their xGens, but sometimes you have to.’

  I couldn’t survive without my xGen, it was my link to the entire world. Then I had a thought.

  ‘Do you think this death trap could take us as far as London?’

  ‘I don’t see why not. What have we got to lose? Why London?’

  ‘My aunt used to say the Ritz was the best place in England to find anonymity. They don’t let anyone disturb their guests. And I mean, anyone.’

  ‘Our U-Cards would still give away our location when we check in.’

  ‘We just need to get there, that’s all. I can’t think of anything else.’

  ‘Okay, but I really don’t think I should use any of my U-Cards. They will be tracking my own for sure, and I don’t want them to know my alter-ego, you get me? Sorry to be so ungentlemanly but I might have to get you to pay…’

  ‘Ha. This gets better. This couldn’t be any more wild if we had planned this ourselves,’ I shook my head and found humor in our situation.

  ‘What? What is it?’

  I hadn’t told him yet but this was probably as good a time as any.

  ‘I’m a millionaire thanks to my aunt… though I may not be able to spend a fuckin’ cent of it the way we’re goin’.’

  ‘You are kidding, yeah?’

  I looked at him with all seriousness, explaining, ‘I am not exactly happy or pissed about it… just… whatever… it came as a shock so I clean forgot. I mean… yeah it may help us. I’ll have to find out when the funds are goin’ through, but I’m sure I can hurry the probate along. Then we’ll have no problem gettin’ out of the country. But I think it’ll be safer to call the lawyers from the hotel once we arrive in London.’

  ‘Err, yeah, agreed, okay then, let’s get going.’ He had to pause a few moments longer before driving off. ‘You did say… she was a dressmaker? Yeah?’

  ‘It’s taken me about three days to get used to the idea too. Welcome to my bizarre world.’

  With that, Ryken drove off in a daze, using only deserted country roads and farm tracks. He often looked across at me still in disbelief.

  CHAPTER 17

  We inched across the landscape on the country roads but it meant not having to hit a motorway. In our shed of a vehicle, we’d have no chance on a cruise-controlled motorway. We would be dead within seconds. We made it to the outskirts of the London suburb of Watford, when the car spluttered and died. Ryken had not the energy to fix it. We could see the town in sight anyway and I reassured him I was fine to walk. The car journey had given me a chance to rest my eyes.

  Even in such a broken-down environment, we realized we looked disheveled and might draw unwanted attention if we didn’t clean up a bit. Our shoes were filthy, our hair had bits of earth encrusted in it and our pants were splattered with mud up to our knees. So we snuck into the public loos to get washed and scrub down our clothes.

  I went in the more private disabled cubicle and stripped off, splashing water on my face, underneath my arms and across my chest. I still felt half-dead from walking through sewers, sleeping rough and traversing the landscape for miles and miles in darkness. I remembered having the funeral clothes in my bag still and decided they would have to do, despite not being my usual style. So I pulled on my cream camisole and after wiping the muck off my leather jacket, I threw it back on. I discarded my trusty black jeans before teaming the purple skirt with my slightly improved biker boots. The combination seemed to work.

  After freshening up and smoothing down my clean-ish clothes, I went outside to see Ryken waiting impatiently. He noticed my garb and smiled, but I pretended to ignore him. Feeling slightly improved, we headed towards the rail terminal in the town.

  It was a grayish, to-the-point kind of place, but it hadn’t been as badly ruined as York had. A lot of the houses nearby had managed to stay intact, although even more had been packed in crudely wherever there existed a bit of spare land.

  Arriving at the station, I decided whichever way we looked at it, we would have to risk using a U-Card. I got out mine and looked at Ryken.

  ‘Look, we have no choice, we have to try.’

  ‘Yeah, but once we get into King’s Cross, no doubt there will be emissaries waiting to pounce on us. It’s futile. We could try to hide amongst the crowds, but we can’t risk it. If we get caught, there really will be no chance of escape. No chance of getting o
ut alive, even. You are not strong enough, Seraph. You need rest.’

  I wanted to tell him that there would be people watching us (the resistance that is) and they would protect us. Perhaps they would pave the way, or clear a path, or something. I couldn’t let him in on my affiliation with UNITY, not yet. We had to find faith from somewhere else.

  I paced about outside the station, wracking my brain for a safe course of action, when a thought hit. I had a scrambling device in my purse that the Rascal had developed. I began searching for it and slipped it into my xGen.

  ‘They’ll never trace this,’ I smiled.

  My device booted up but with a blank profile, the scrambling stick acting as another ID card. Luckily I had memorized Camille’s ID, so I keyed it in and pressed call. After several seconds she answered, appearing nervous on the screen, ‘Hello?’

  ‘Camille, it’s me.’ There was a blackout for a few moments. ‘Are you still there?’

  There was rustling on the other end, clunking and then she came into focus and spoke, ‘Seraph, I had to just go somewhere private. Your picture is all over the news. They’re after you and Doctor Hardy. You need to get somewhere safe and stay there.’

  My hand went to my forehead. ‘Fuck. I don’t understand, what are they saying we’ve done?’

  ‘They say you’re wanted for murder.’

  Ryken looked perplexed but I thought it was better that he couldn’t quite hear the conversation over the din of the crowds passing by. He impatiently waited for an explanation nonetheless.

  ‘Camille, you know…’

  ‘Of course, you’ve done nothing. Where are you now?’

  ‘Fuckin’ Watford.’

  Ryken sniggered, obviously having caught that.