Infiltrators (The Wall Series Book 2)

by Alison Ingleby

  “Does he …”

  “Know you exist? I don’t think so. I didn’t mention you in my report back to him and I’m pretty sure Katya didn’t either.”

  “I think she was going to tell him about me that day. The day she died. Did he tell you what happened? Why he wasn’t there?” My throat chokes shut, and I stare down at the grain on the wooden table.

  “No. He’s never mentioned it.” Bryn sighs again, this time in frustration. “I thought something felt wrong about this from the beginning. The other cities we’ve operated in, we’ve concentrated on building a better system of governance. Here, he’s been far more focused on taking the government down than thinking about what could replace it.”

  He pauses, and I feel his eyes on me. “Do you want me to tell him about you?”

  “No.” I shake my head vigorously. “But I want to meet him.”

  So he can look me in the eye and tell me the truth about that day.

  “Well, you might get that chance.”

  “He’s coming to London?” Trey leans forward.

  “Yes. Says he wants to oversee things personally.”

  My breath catches in my throat and my heart begins to race. I raise my head. “When?”

  “Won’t be for a few days at least. He moves to his own timescales. He’ll be here when he’s here.” Bryn yawns. “The next few days are going to be busy. We need to figure out what to do with those Metz officers you’ve caught us for a start.” He eyes the bulge under my jacket. “Who gave you that thing anyway?”

  “A friend.” I picture Giles in his cave and wonder what he’s doing now. If he knows how many lives he saved today.

  “Fine, be mysterious.” Bryn yawns again. “But tell him – or her – I owe them a drink if we ever meet.”

  “Are you hurt, Aleesha?” Abby stands and moves over to the hotplate. “There’s a bit of water left for you to wash with.”

  I crick my neck. My whole body feels like one big hurt. “Nothing serious, I don’t think. Just scratches.”

  Abby puts a kettle of water on to boil and comes over to me. “That looks like it needs a good clean.” She gently touches my shoulder and a stab of pain lances up my neck. She hands me a small pump bottle. “Clean it well with water, then spray some of this on it and any other open cuts. It’s a natural antiseptic.”

  I pick up the bottle and take a sniff. A strange but distinctive floral scent.

  Abby leaves the room and returns a few minutes later with a pile of clothes and a towel. “They may be a bit big on you but at least they’re clean.” She looks pointedly at Bryn. “I think it’s time you went to bed before you can’t stand.”

  Bryn grunts and staggers over to the door. Abby turns to Trey. “I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, but maybe let Aleesha get washed and changed first?”

  Trey blushes and stammers something unintelligible as he leaves the room. Abby smiles at me. “Sure you don’t need a hand?”

  I shake my head.

  “Okay, well I’ll be off to bed. Please stay here tonight? There’s the mattress upstairs or the sofa’s free.” She hesitates as if about to say something else but decides against it and turns toward the door. “Goodnight, Aleesha.”

  “Goodnight,” I echo.

  The kettle whistles. I pour the water into a bowl, undo my jacket and carefully place the black box on the table. It doesn’t look any the worse for wear for the abuse it’s been through. I strip down to my underwear and wash, biting my lip as the hot water stings my wounds. The water soon turns a dirty grey, but I’ve saved enough for a second bowl. I even manage to get the worst of the dust out of my hair by dunking my head in the bowl.

  The antiseptic spray stings a little. I stick a dressing over the bullet wound and get dressed. The clothes are a little on the large side, but they’re soft and comfy. I pour some cold water into a bucket and rinse my clothes as best I can before hanging them up to dry.

  When I open the door to the hallway, Trey’s waiting outside.

  “Can I come in?”

  I nod.

  “You look better.” He smiles at me tentatively.

  “Smell better too, I bet.” I return the smile.

  “I—”

  “I—”

  We laugh awkwardly. “You first,” I say.

  He walks over and sits down in a chair. I sink into the one opposite.

  “I’m sorry I hit you. I-I was mad and upset. I don’t know what came over me …” He shakes his head. “It was like this other person took over my body and—”

  “It’s okay,” I cut in. “I’d have probably done the same. Except I’d have hit harder. Your punching could use some work.” I manage a tentative half smile.

  Trey looks down at his hands. His long fingers are interlocked, thumbs up. “I understand why you did it, I think. But I don’t know if I can forgive you yet. Not completely. I’m sorry, it’s just too soon …”

  A crushing weight presses on my chest, gripping my heart in an iron claw. “I understand,” I whisper.

  My only friend. And I beat him away.

  It gets hard to breathe. I close my eyes and focus on trying to relax the tension in my throat. Somehow the raw emptiness inside me feels so much more painful than any wound or aching muscle.

  I look up and meet his eyes.

  “I’m broken,” I whisper. “A bad person.”

  “No, not a bad person.” Trey reaches across the table to take my hand. My skin tingles under his touch. “Just a person who has sometimes done bad things.”

  I cling to his fingers as if they’re a lifeline connecting me to a better place.

  “Do you think I can ever change?” The words catch in my throat. The questions I dare not ask even myself. “Can I ever be good?”

  “You have a lot of good in you.” Trey squeezes my fingers. “You saved a lot of people today. And you’ve saved my life more times than I can count. Besides, Abby says that it’s our faults as much as our strengths that makes us who we are.”

  I smile at him through the tears brimming in my eyes. “She always thinks the best of everybody.”

  “And Bryn always thinks the worse. They make a good pair.”

  Trey pulls back and, reluctantly, I let go of his fingers. Immediately, I crave his touch and the focus it brings, keeping me here, in the present, in this warm, homely kitchen. Without it, my mind turns to darker thoughts.

  Trey searches my eyes. “My father used to say that everyone can be who they want to be if they want it enough.” He hesitates. “Do you want to meet your father?”

  I look down at my fingers twisting around themselves on the table. “I think so … I don’t know. I’m confused. It’s like I had this idea of who my father would be. The kind of man my mother would have loved. I thought he’d be an Insider, maybe. Rich, successful, kind. But this person they call the Leader? I don’t know who he is at all. Except that I don’t think he’s anything like what I thought.”

  I glance across at him. “My mother would never have wanted revenge for her death. So perhaps … perhaps he’s not the man she thought he was either.” My throat is thick again.

  “Well, I guess you won’t know unless you meet him.”

  “No.”

  We sit in silence for a minute. Then Trey clicks his tongue. “I knew there was something important I had to tell you! The officer who knocked Abby out, the one who nearly killed us. It was Rogue. But he didn’t recognize me … Or, if he did, he didn’t hesitate to nearly blow my brains out.” He frowns. “Were we wrong about him?”

  I shake my head. “No. Samson saw me with him before we broke into the compound. He told the President there was a rogue officer and the President had all their chips reset. It must have happened after we left the compound but before the fight.” A thought flashes through my mind. “So, he’ll be one of the officers we captured?”

  Trey shrugs. “I guess so. But if he’s been reset, will he remember us? When he’s out of the suit?”

  “
I don’t think so. Giles said the reset wipes their memories.” I reach for the black box and turn it over in my hands.

  “Does it really only work for you?”

  I nod.

  Another silence.

  “So, what are you going to do with them?”

  “I don’t know.” I sigh. “They can’t stay with the Snakes for long and we can’t send them back to the compound. What do you think I should do?”

  Trey looks uncomfortable. “Well, I’m not sure you should just hand them over to the Chain. Katya sounded like she either wanted to use them as killing machines or execute them. What about this Samson?”

  “I’m not sure he’s any better,” I admit. “He helped me out today, but I’m still not sure whose side he’s really on.”

  “You mean whether he wants to help the government or Outsiders?”

  “Yes. He claims to be on both sides, but I’m not sure that’s possible.” I hesitate. If anyone will understand, Trey will. “But if we use them as weapons – as Katya and others want to do – doesn’t that make us just as bad as them? As the Commander?”

  I spin the box, weaving it through my fingers until it moves in a blur.

  “You think we should let them go?” Trey asks after a pause.

  The box slips from my fingers and falls to the table with a clatter. “I think we should give them the choice. A real choice.”

  “You mean remove their implants? But couldn’t that kill them?”

  I shake my head and gesture to the box. “It has a deactivation option. To turn the chips off. To make them human again. Then we show them what life is like out here and let them decide what they want to do.”

  Trey looks dubious. “And if they all want to go back to the compound?”

  “Then we let them go,” I say quietly. “It’s their choice.”

  “Katya’s not going to like it.”

  “I don’t care if Katya likes it. It’s the right thing to do.”

  I look up. Trey has this odd smile on his face. “What?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

  I scowl at him. What does he mean, nothing?

  “You’re right. It is the right thing to do.” He yawns and rocks back on his chair legs. “Let’s test it out tomorrow, okay?” He crashes back down. “You know, you may want to stay away from the Chain. I wouldn’t put it past them to force you to hand over the box.”

  “I’d like to see them try.”

  Trey doesn’t look convinced. “Well, let’s go one step at a time.” He stands and stretches. “You can have the bed, if you like. I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa.”

  I push back my chair. “No, it’s fine. I’m not sure I’ll sleep much anyway.”

  “You and me both.” He yawns again and walks over to me. Gently, almost hesitantly, he reaches up to my cheek. His fingers ripple down my skin like a feather that both tickles and soothes. “You may be broken, but so are we all, in one way or another.”

  Then he turns and walks toward the door, disappearing before I can find the words to reply.

  It turns out I don’t have any problem dropping off. As soon as I’ve wrapped the blanket around me, I’m sucked down into a dark, dreamless sleep.

  But part way through the night, something jerks me awake. I’m not sure what it was but I’m suddenly wide awake and alert. I pad over to the shuttered window and peer out, but the street outside is quiet and empty. I lie back down and pull the blanket over my shoulders, but I know at once that it’s useless. Sleep will not come a second time. Sitting up, I turn the black box over in my hands.

  I need to prove they’re human. People who think and feel. Damaged people perhaps, but people all the same.

  Perhaps I can help fix them.

  I stand and tiptoe through into the kitchen. A small clock face shows it to be two in the morning. Plenty of time to get out and back before anyone else wakes up.

  The streets are empty, and it doesn’t take me long to get to the Snakes’ headquarters. A sleepy guard stops me, and I’m kept waiting until someone else checks with Jay that it’s okay to let me in before I’m allowed through. I don’t mind. I’m glad security is tight.

  The huge main room of the old warehouse is dark; the only light is the faint haze of the moon through the skylight windows. Rows and rows of Metz officers fill the space. When you look at them like this, they look like machines just waiting to be switched on. An army of giant robots. I wonder if they’re asleep or awake inside the helmets. If their suits hold them up or if their legs will tire at some point and they’ll fall over like a set of dominoes.

  I activate the black box and bring up the display. Row upon row of flashing lights, but no way of knowing which is the one I’m looking for.

  I shut the display back down and begin to walk along the line. I reach the end of one row and turn up the next. Already the numbers are starting to blur in my head. Where are you, Rogue?

  The eerie quietness is getting to me. Perhaps I should have waited until morning. Come here with Trey or Jay. I pass the third row and move onto the fourth.

  Something stops me. I frown and look at the officer in front of me. MD345. Not Rogue. I backtrack a few paces to the previous officer.

  ML486.

  He looms above me, his masked face expressionless.

  “Rogue?” I whisper.

  There’s no sign of acknowledgement. I bring up the display and select his chip. “Follow me.”

  I set off up the line. Rogue falls into step behind me, his footsteps echoing in the silence. At the end of the room is a stack of chairs. I pull two off and place them opposite one another.

  “Sit on the chair.”

  The officer obeys, his bulk dwarfing the small chair.

  I sit down, clutching the box.

  Giles said it would bring their memories back from before they were officers. But he wasn’t sure about the time they were officers. Perhaps it would be better if they didn’t remember those.

  Will this even work? And should I take off his helmet before or after? I should have checked with Giles.

  Before. Then you can see his face. And he can see what’s really here. Not what the helmet shows him.

  I place the box on the chair and walk around to the back of Rogue’s chair. Using the stiletto blade, I release the catch on his helmet and, with an effort, lift it off his head.

  He looks just the same. Except his blue eyes are vacant. I wave my hand in front of them. “Rogue?”

  No response.

  I place the helmet on the floor and am surprised to find my hands trembling slightly.

  Come on, what’s the worst that can happen?

  I eye his belt. The gun has gone but there’s a baton and a knife at least that I can see. Quickly, I strip him of anything that looks like a weapon and hide the kit in the pile of chairs. Then I return to sit on the chair opposite him.

  “Okay.” I blow out a breath. I wish I’d thought to bring some water.

  I switch the setting from “control” to “deactivation” and bring up the display.

  Once you’ve turned off the chip, there’s no going back. They will be able to make their own decisions.

  My finger hovers over the green dot. Is this the right thing to do?

  “What if he doesn’t want to remember?” I whisper into the silence. But no answer comes back.

  I select the green flashing dot and give the command.

  It stops flashing then fades to a dull grey.

  I look up. He’s still staring straight ahead. “Rogue?”

  His face twitches. Then his whole body starts as if he’s been given a huge electric shock. He springs to his feet, looking around wildly.

  I jump up, the chair crashing to the ground behind me, ready to run.

  “Who are you? Where am I? What …?”

  His voice trails off as his eyes finally come to rest on me.

  “I … my name is Aleesha. We’ve met before.” My voice comes out as a croak.

  “H
ave we? I don’t remember.” He looks around and frowns.

  “You may have some gaps in your memory.” I try to sound calm, but I can’t stop the tremor in my voice. “That’s normal. Do you remember your name?”

  He comes to attention as if I’ve given him an order.

  “My name is Kian Eamon Anderson. I am twenty-two years old. I … I …”

  He turns to look at me and his eyes are filled with such horror that I look away, unable to meet his gaze.

  “What have I done?” He looks down at his hands. Those hands that have caused so much bloodshed, without the knowledge or consent of their owner.

  “What have I done?” he whispers again, turning to me as if I can provide the answer.

  But I just shake my head, tears welling in my eyes.

  What do I tell him?

  The battle for Area Four is over.

  But his own battle is only just beginning.

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