Infiltrators (The Wall Series Book 2)

by Alison Ingleby

  “What do you want to know? That I was attacked? Raped?” Her voice is harsh and cracked. “Does that make you feel better? Make you pity me a little more?”

  “No, I …” I gently rest a hand on her arm, but she shrugs it off and strides over to the edge of the roof. A little too close to the edge for my comfort. She stares out over the rooftops.

  “You don’t understand. It’s different out here …”

  “Try me,” I say quietly.

  Aleesha sighs. “I was six when my mother left. The first few days I waited at home. Then the people from the children’s home came for me.”

  “Why didn’t she take you with her?”

  Aleesha shrugs. “Guess she thought it would be safer for me to stay behind. I managed to escape from the children’s home once they realized I wasn’t chipped and begged for food on the streets for a bit. There wasn’t much going but I was quick and figured out I could get away with taking the odd thing from shops or a kitchen table without being caught. Until one day, my luck ran out. It was an apartment I’d been to before. The door was left open and there was food on the table. That should have warned me – no one leaves their door open in Four. When I crept in, the door slammed behind me and a man was looking down on me.

  “He was kind at first. Fed me, offered to let me stay. I was able to wash for the first time since I’d left home. I didn’t find it odd that he watched me while I washed and that sometimes, when he thought I was sleeping, he’d stand over me. Just watching.”

  She falls silent for a moment. “He didn’t just watch for long. And I was old enough to know that what he was doing was wrong. So I ran away again. That’s when I found this rooftop.”

  She was six! What kind of man …

  My gut twists, and I swallow to try and get rid of the sour taste in my mouth, glad that Aleesha can’t see the look of revulsion on my face.

  I take a deep breath. “Y-you came up here when you were six?”

  She smiles. “Yeah. There was a big flood. I nearly got washed away in it, but the water lifted me high enough to get in through that window. I just kept climbing until there wasn’t anywhere else to go.”

  “And you lived up here, then?”

  “Some of the time. But it was too cold in winter. And I couldn’t carry much water up here.”

  I can picture her trying. A young Aleesha, doggedly hauling bottles of water up those endless flights of stairs. My heart aches for her. “Was there no one who would help you?”

  She gives a harsh laugh. “There were plenty of men willing to help me. Some of them were even kind, for a time. But you get nothin’ for free out here.”

  Silence again. Aleesha runs her fingers over the parapet. The stone crumbles under her touch.

  I don’t want to press her, don’t want to ask the question, but I have to know. “Did they … rape you?”

  She casts me a swift glance. “Sometimes. If I couldn’t get away in time. But most of the time I managed to avoid it by doing them other … favours.”

  My stomach heaves and I struggle to resist the urge to turn and walk away. I’m not sure how much more of this I can listen to. “That must have been terrible.”

  “It was what it was.” Aleesha shrugs. “And they weren’t all too bad. One guy taught me to read. Another to fight.” A smile briefly lightens her face. “Mind you, he wasn’t very good at it. But I became better able to look after myself. Began to work out how best to survive. That’s when I started tagging onto the gangs.”

  “That doesn’t sound much better.”

  “Gang life is risky, sure. But if you’re smart enough to stay out of the way of the fighting then it’s not too bad a life. You get fed at least.”

  “So you joined the Snakes?”

  She shakes her head. “Not at first. There was a smaller gang. The leader took a fancy to me, so I was with him for a while. He didn’t even want to sleep with me. I think he preferred men but wanted a girlfriend for show. There was a big fight with the Snakes one day and that’s when I met Jay.”

  “He looked like a bully,” I mutter under my breath.

  “He’s not so bad.” She looks out over the rooftops. I wait for her to continue, but after a short pause she straightens her shoulders and turns around to face me. “Ready for round two?”

  I nod. Clearly, the conversation is at an end.

  We practise some more with the batons, but my heart’s not really in it. I guess Bryn was right, in one sense. She’s not exactly the girlfriend I’d imagined having. But he’s also wrong. She did what she had to do to survive. That doesn’t make her a bad person.

  After twenty minutes, Aleesha calls a halt.

  “I can go a bit longer,” I pant.

  “It’s nearly noon.” She takes a swig from the Chaz bottle and hands it to me. “Finish it off.”

  “What’s happening at noon?”

  “I said I’d wait for Rogue at noon every day. In case he comes back.” She turns to look at me. “Wanna come and see?”

  “Sure.” Though, really, I’m not sure at all.

  The alleyway Aleesha leads us to is full of rubbish and smells even worse than Area Four usually does. There’s an overflowing trash can about halfway down and a couple of closed doors. Aleesha kicks both the doors. One doesn’t budge but the other creaks open revealing a dark room.

  “Wait in here. You might scare him off if he sees you.”

  I wrinkle my nose at the acrid smell of urine. “Can’t I just hide behind the trash can?”

  “Nope.”

  I step gingerly inside and she pulls the door shut, leaving me just a crack to see through. I pinch my fingers on the bridge of my nose and try to take shallow breaths.

  I press my eye to the gap in the door. All I can see is Aleesha leaning against the wall of the alleyway, tossing a knife idly. We wait.

  I’m about to call it a day and pull open the door when Aleesha stiffens and pockets the knife. A moment later, she moves out of view.

  By straining my ears, I can just about make out what she’s saying. “You came.”

  “I want to know more.” The gravelly tone makes my blood run cold.

  “Do you remember what happened last time? When you got back into the compound?”

  There’s a pause. “Some of it. And a feeling. A feeling that something was wrong. That you might be able to help.”

  Another pause. “We should probably go somewhere more private. Do you have a torch?”

  There’s a grunt of assent.

  They’re coming in here?

  I just have time to step back before the door swings inward and Aleesha walks in. The Metz officer following her has to duck and twist to enter the narrow doorway. A beam of light flashes around the empty space and comes to rest on me.

  “Wh—”

  “He’s a friend. I promise he won’t hurt you.”

  I shield my eyes from the light, blinking at the brightness.

  “Darwin Goldsmith,” the voice rumbles.

  “Um, can I take your helmet off?” Aleesha asks. “You’re more human that way.”

  There’s a pause. “Fine.”

  “Give the light to Trey.” A heavy torch is shoved into my hands and I shine it up toward the officer’s head. Aleesha’s standing on her toes, reaching up with a long, fine knife. “Bend back a bit?”

  The officer obliges and there’s a click. “Now twist the helmet a fraction to the left and it should come off.” It reaches up two massive hands and grasps the helmet tight. A moment later I’m looking into the eyes of a young man wearing an expression of disgust.

  “That smell …” He looks around the room.

  “Pretty bad, isn’t it,” Aleesha says.

  The officer eyes the helmet in his hands as if he’d quite like to put it back on.

  “Rogue, meet Trey. Trey, meet Rogue. Now, I’ve got an idea.”

  “Go on.”

  His voice is normal without the helmet on. Slightly gruff, but that could just be because he�
�s trying not to breathe in the stinking air.

  “You want to find out the truth about what happens on Metz operations?”

  “I know what happens. I’ve been on them,” he cuts in.

  “You know what you see,” Aleesha continues. “Which isn’t the same as what’s actually there, at least, not all of the time. But they’ll be on your systems, right? The records of past operations?”

  “Yes. We often access them for training.”

  Aleesha frowns. “All of them? You can access all the files?”

  Rogue shakes his head. “Of course not. Some are restricted.”

  “There you go! The ones they don’t want you to see. Look, you want to know the truth and I want to access one record. To know why my mother died.”

  Rogue’s expression doesn’t change. “Your mother died in a Metz operation?”

  “Yes.” Aleesha looks up at him and her eyes are bright with tears that glisten in the torchlight. “They killed her. I was six.”

  “What did she do?”

  “Nothing!” Aleesha looks as if she’s about to punch him but stops herself. “Nothing.”

  I stay silent, holding the flashlight in front of me, an awkward witness to this dance of wills.

  “Please,” Aleesha whispers. “She was all I had. Let me show you what happened to her.”

  “And how do you expect to get into the compound?”

  “From above.”

  A look of surprise flashes across Rogue’s face; the first emotion I’ve seen from him. “There’s an exclusion zone.”

  “I know. Leave that to us.”

  There’s a pause. Rogue looks as if he’s fighting some internal battle.

  “When?” Rogue asks finally.

  “Six thirty tomorrow evening.”

  “No weapons?”

  “No weapons.”

  “And only you?”

  “And Trey. But no one else.”

  He casts a dismissive glance in my direction. Obviously, he doesn’t consider me a danger. “Fine. Six thirty tomorrow. Most people will be eating then so it should be quiet. I’ll wait at the entrance to the compound under the Commander’s landing platform. It’s on top of the east tower.”

  I close my eyes and let out a breath. It’s really going to happen. A flush of nervous excitement courses through me.

  “Thank you,” Aleesha whispers. She places a hand on his arm. “You won’t regret it.”

  “I sincerely hope not,” Rogue replies stiffly.

  “One more thing,” Aleesha says as he raises the helmet to his head. “Will we need a disguise? To look like new recruits, perhaps?”

  Rogue gives a brief nod. “I’ll see to it.”

  The helmet clicks back into place. “Tomorrow,” he says, grabbing the flashlight from my hands and twisting his bulk to get out of the door.

  “Tomorrow,” I echo.

  We follow him out. The alleyway smells almost fresh after the stench of the enclosed room. “Do you think we can trust him?” I ask, gazing at his retreating back.

  “Do we have a choice?”

  Yes, I want to say, we do have a choice. We could choose to stay out of this mess. To be safe. Would anyone really blame us for not wanting to risk our lives again?

  But I keep my mouth shut. If there’s a chance that this could work, that we could find the key to controlling the Metz, to stop the killing, then the risk is worth it. Besides, Aleesha’s face is set in that determined look I’m starting to recognize. No one will stop her going in.

  And I won’t let her go in alone.

  15

  Aleesha

  The pod is smaller than I’d imagined. It’s been hastily painted in Metz colours: black with yellow stripes down both sides. The paint glistens in the light.

  “It’s not quite dry but we can’t wait any longer,” Murdoch says from the open door. “Let’s go.”

  Inside, there’s a bench running across the back of the pod and a small control panel up front. Trey follows me in and Jameson and Bryn squeeze in behind him. With five of us in here, there’s barely room to breathe.

  “You two sit at the back,” Bryn instructs.

  I perch on the bench next to Trey. The seat is obviously designed for one person and our thighs press together. I find the contact strangely reassuring.

  Last night, I’d lain awake, going over and over our conversation on the rooftop. I’d regretted it then, telling him all that stuff, stuff I’ve told no one else before. In the dark hours of the early morning, the things we’d talked about, the memories that I’d managed to bury for so long came flooding back, and I’d curled up in a tight ball and trembled as they consumed me.

  But I’d listened to Trey’s light, even breathing as he slept on the mattress below me and inhaled the sweet smell of flowers that lingered on the sheet I clutched, and those two things, those two small things, helped me remember that I was safe now. That I wasn’t alone anymore. I had a friend. And finally, as the sky outside lightened from black to pre-dawn grey, I had slept.

  “Ready?” Murdoch’s voice pulls me back to reality. He’s at the control panel, his gun slung over his shoulder. Jameson’s sat on the floor next to Trey, holding a small rectangular device on top of his crossed legs. Bryn tucks himself up in front of him, his weapon pointing toward the closed door. Trey and I are unarmed. It was decided it was too risky for us to take any weapon in, even a knife.

  “If they catch you, a knife’s not going to help you,” Bryn had said when I’d protested the decision. “This is a covert operation. Get in and out without them even knowing you were there.”

  Covert is a new word for me. Apparently, it’s an old word used for top-secret operations, where spies went in undercover to enemy territory. Which, I guess, is exactly what we’re doing now.

  My body tingles with excitement and adrenaline. Trey’s thigh twitches beside me and his face is pale and tight. He looks like he’s regretting volunteering. I reach out for his hand and give it a squeeze, getting a weak smile in return.

  “I thought pods flew themselves?” he asks Murdoch. His voice shakes slightly, and I wonder if he asked the question to take his mind off what’s ahead.

  “They do,” Murdoch replies. “Fortunately, there’s a manual override. No pod apart from the Commander’s will fly itself to the Metz compound. You ready, Jameson?”

  The man nods and the lump on his throat jumps up and down. He’s nervous too.

  “Let’s go then.”

  I’m disappointed to find no windows in the pod. There’s a narrow strip of what seems to be clear material at waist height, but it’s so covered in paint that it’s impossible to make out anything on the other side.

  “Do people not want to look out?” I whisper to Trey.

  He shrugs awkwardly in the small space. “They mostly just want to get to where they’re going. And some people say it makes them feel sick, looking out.”

  “Jameson, you ready with those codes?” Murdoch must be able to see what’s ahead if he’s flying the pod. I wish there was enough room to peer over his shoulder, but I’d have to climb over Bryn and Jameson to get there.

  “N-nearly.” Jameson’s fingers move in a blur across the interactive holo display that hangs in the air above the small box in his lap.

  “Are we there already?” I ask. We’ve barely been gone five minutes. I didn’t even feel us take off.

  “Just approaching the no-fly zone,” Murdoch mutters.

  “Okay, just waiting for authorization …” Jameson pauses and taps his fingers on his knee. “Come on … We have it!” His fingers move across the display. “We’re good to go.”

  “You sure?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  “Okay then.” Murdoch’s voice is strained and the tension in the pod goes up a notch. I wonder what will happen if Jameson’s code doesn’t work and we’re found to be impostors, but I decide it’s probably best not to ask.

  “We’re in. Just coming down to land. Are you two
ready?”

  We straighten simultaneously. I glance over at Trey. His face is still pale, but his expression is determined.

  “We’re ready,” I say.

  Bryn checks his wrist. “We’re right on time. Let’s hope your officer is too.”

  I don’t feel the pod land but a moment later the door slides open and a cold wind whips around the inside of the small compartment. Bryn jumps out first, his weapon cocked, and motions for us to follow.

  “Comm check?” Jameson’s voice sounds simultaneously through the bud in my ear and in the pod.

  “Fine,” I say, and Trey nods.

  “Remember, we don’t know if it’ll work inside the compound. And if you’re below ground level, I’m pretty sure it won’t work,” Jameson continues.

  “Keep an eye on the time,” Murdoch says, still staring straight ahead. “We’ll be back in an hour and a half exactly. You must be here – we can’t wait.”

  I push back my sleeve and glance down at the slim band on my wrist. It feels odd, even though it’s moulded to fit. I hover my finger over it and a display flashes up. 18.30.

  “Come on!” Bryn hisses. He’s lit up against the night sky and the wind whips his hair around his face.

  I step out of the pod. We’re on the roof of one of the four corner towers of the compound. It’s not a particularly tall building and the glass apartment blocks surrounding it tower over us. Yet it feels strangely isolated.

  “Aleesha!”

  I turn to see Bryn glaring at me. He’s bent over by an access panel in the roof, his hand on a tiny red pressure pad. Looking closer, I see he’s wearing a thin glove. The Commander’s fingerprints?

  The panel slides open. Bryn raises the gun to his shoulder, his finger hovering over the trigger.

  A face appears in the space underneath the panel. Rogue. A flash of anger crosses his face as he looks into the barrel of the gun.

  “That’s him, Bryn,” I say quickly, stepping forward so Rogue can see me.

  “Get in then, quick,” Bryn replies, not taking his gaze off the man inside.

  I climb down the short ladder into a short, dimly lit corridor. Rogue pushes a package into my hands as Trey climbs down to join us.

  “Here, change into this now. Give your clothes to your friend.”