“We are very concerned about your wellbeing, Chelsea,” Mrs. Hill said. “My husband and I want you to inform the Custodians about those men. Before they attack you or my son again.”
“My mother told me about your bruises, Chelsea. Boot prints on your thighs and ribs, and older bruises on your stomach and back,” Ryan said. “This can’t go on.”
“I already told you why I can’t tell the Custodians.”
“You cannot let those people bully you like this, Sweetie,” Ryan’s mother said sternly. “The fact is, you are lucky to be alive. If that spike hit you in the heart, we would not be having this conversation.”
“I can’t dob them in. They said they’ll sick their associates onto my little sister and mother if I do,” I said.
“The Custodians are far more capable than you give them credit, Chelsea. They’re used to dealing with criminals like this,” Ryan said.
“They’re also used to shooting innocent people like my father and framing them for it,” I snapped.
Mrs. Hill gasped, her hand going to her mouth.
“It’s a long story, Mother,” Ryan said quickly. He turned back to me. “You can’t judge all Custodians with the yardstick of that one failure.”
“It was a pretty big failure. You honestly think I’ll ever trust them again? This whole mess is a direct consequence of their incompetence and corruption.”
“I understand where you are coming from, but if you won’t go to them, can’t you at least tell me who the thugs are and where they operate from–”
“I said no!” Pain lanced through my shoulder and chest, causing me to wince.
Ryan slapped his knee in exasperation. “Chelsea, this is no time to be stubborn!”
“Son, tone it down a notch!” Mrs. Hill glared at Ryan, shocking me. My mother never spoke to Brandon like that.
“See if you can get through to her then!” he said.
“If I can get a word in, you’re both missing the point,” I said.
“Which is?” Ryan snapped.
“I will not endanger your life further, Ryan. If I tell you who they are and you take matters into your own hands, you’ll end up dead!”
Ryan sighed in frustration. “Chelsea, we are trying to help.”
“I know that, but you can’t.”
“Okay then, let’s get back to my earlier question. Where is your brother?” He leaned closer, anxious to hear the answer.
“He went into hiding the day Dan Smith died. He’ll be back soon, I expect.”
Ryan nodded thoughtfully. “So you really didn’t see what happened to Dan.”
I shook my head.
He looked like he was about to dredge that topic up again, but glanced at his mother and let it go.
“How did you work out I was impersonating my brother, anyway?” I asked. I hoped no one else had figured it out, especially Con. I had no idea how he would react if he found out.
“You left a trail of clues.”
“Such as?”
“For starters, for someone who was supposed to have been foraging for a year, you didn’t know how to use a hacksaw properly. Then there was our visit to the gym. You clearly hadn’t done weights before. When I quizzed you, you said no one ever showed you what to do. The other day I bumped into the gym instructor and gave him a piece of mind for not doing his job properly. He stunned me by saying he spent many sessions with Brandon, instructing and evaluating him. Then were the times you momentarily forgot to lower your voice, and of course, your expressions. No two people, regardless of how close they are, could possibly have identical mannerisms.”
“You sure you’re not a private dick?”
He laughed. “Didn’t need to be a private detective to put those clues together. Still, I reckon I only noticed because I’ve been spending so much time with you.”
“Looks like I’ll have to be more careful,” I said. Which wasn’t actually true. My days of impersonating my brother were over, at least in terms of being a forager. As the escape was set for this coming Friday, I would need to rest the whole week to let the wound heal. I couldn’t tell Ryan that, though.
“You’re not seriously thinking of going back, are you? Surely Con saw through that stunt you pulled yesterday.”
“He’ll get over it. And in case you’ve forgotten, I have to keep working until my brother comes back,” I said.
“You will let that wound heal first, won’t you?” Mrs. Hill asked.
“As far as I can.”
“If it’s a matter of money, I can lend you some,” Ryan said.
“Thanks, but no. I will not put myself further into debt.”
“Okay, I’ll give it to you! Must you fight all my attempts to help you?”
“Still no.”
“Chelsea, even if I gave you every cent I have, you wouldn’t owe me anything. You saved my life twice, remember? Besides, we’re friends, right? Friends look out for each other.”
Exhausted by Ryan’s continual attempts to help me, I sagged further into the pillow and sighed. “Can we just drop it for now?”
Mrs. Hill stood and came over to the bed. “Chelsea needs to rest, Son.”
Ryan nodded and slipped off the bed. “Rest up, okay?”
“When can I leave? I need to get home and let my family know I’m alright.”
“I popped over to see your family last night, gave them your wage, and told them you were being looked after,” Ryan said.
“Thanks.” I breathed out a sigh of relief, but couldn’t relax. What if Deacon came to see them while I was here? Then again, maybe they’d stay away for a while in light of the fact they just shot me. Even they weren’t so stupid as to think I could earn money in this condition.
Mrs. Hill bundled Ryan from the room. “My husband says you should be up and about by Monday.”
“Thank you. Oh, and before you go?”
“Yes, Dear?”
“I’d just like to say thank you – to you and your husband.”
She smiled. “It’s the least we could do. Now try to get some sleep.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Monday was a cold and unforgiving day. Rain was sleeting down from the heavens in a never-ending stream.
I got up early, thanked Ryan’s parents for their help, and promised to consider their insistence I report Deacon and Wells to the Custodians. Then back in Brandon’s clothes – which Mrs. Hill had washed and mended – took my leave. My left arm was in a sling, which did a great job in alleviating the pain.
As expected, Ryan followed me to the covered walkway outside, holding an umbrella. “I’ll walk you home.”
“No need.” I was back to speaking with Brandon’s voice. “Won’t say no to borrowing the umbrella, though.” I didn’t want the bandages to get wet.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll see you to your door,” he said, handing me the umbrella.
“Ryan...”
“This isn’t open to negotiation,” he said.
I gazed into his deep brown eyes, and sighed. For his sake, I had to do the one thing I did not want to do – I had to remove him from my life, and that meant we needed to talk. Couldn’t do that here, though, outside his front door.
We set off, keeping under the umbrella as we trudged along a wet sidewalk that seemed deceptively clean. Water gurgled as it swept down the gutter towards the nearest drain.
When we reached the adjacent block of flats, which was adorned by one of the ten-foot tall “Report the Mutant” billboards, I stopped and faced him.
“Ryan, I have to tell you something. We can’t hang out together after work anymore.”
“What? Because I know you’re a girl now? Don’t be such a prude, Chelsea. If you keep dressing as your brother, there’s no reason we can’t keep hanging out like we have been.” He looked genuinely distraught.
“That’s not it at all.”
“Then why – I thought you enjoyed our times together – at work, the gym.”
“I do, but–”
“Don’t you realise how much you mean to me? Even when masquerading as your brother, you reached out to me when no one else would, offering me true friendship. Then I met you as Chelsea, after which came the realisation that the two of you were in fact the one and same amazing, selfless person.”
“Ryan, if you really knew me, you wouldn’t say things like that.” Indeed, what would he think of me if he knew I was a mutant? Worse, an accomplice to murder and willing to let those murderers go free so my family and I could escape this oppressive life. Not exactly what I’d call selfless.
“Don’t put yourself down, Chelsea. You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met, and I’m honoured to call you my friend. I’m going to miss you something chronic when you quit foraging because your brother comes back. If we can’t keep meeting socially as well, I’ll be devastated. So please, don’t walk out of my life. We can find a way to keep seeing each other.”
“Ryan, in case you didn’t notice, those guys were trying to kill you because of your association with me! So I’m sorry, but this is where it ends – for your sake,” I turned and walked away.
He ran after me, grabbed my elbow and turned me back to face him, almost making me drop the umbrella. “So our friendship means nothing to you?”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Okay – I’ll just come out and say it. I like you, Chelsea, and–.”
Hearing Ryan voice such sentiments was like a dream come true, but feelings like that were pointless in a culture where the fathers’ arranged the marriages.
I quickly put a finger on his lips. “Stop right there, Mister. That’s a path that leads to nowhere.”
He moved my hand aside, “And – I can’t face the thought of not being able to see you every day.”
That sent my heart fluttering and my mind into a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. My immediate reaction to his confession was to abandon my plans to escape and remain here. With him. I was so tempted to tell him I cared for him too. But if we were to marry, it would mean sacrificing my life-long goal of escaping Newhome and its stupid, oppressive laws and traditions. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell him any of that. And the cold facts were, even if I wanted to remain here, there was no way we could marry. Not with my family’s history.
“Don’t go quiet on me, Chelsea,” he said. “I know it’s not the way things are normally done, but I can talk to my father–”
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. There could never be any kind of future between us,” I snapped. I was irritated now. Why couldn’t he see that?
“Why not? My father–”
“Is a doctor, for goodness sake! He wants the best for you. Don’t think for a moment he would be willing to sully your good family name and career prospects by marrying you into a family who lives in the homeless shelter, whose father is in prison for drugs, and who owes tens of thousands to debt collectors.”
“My father is not like that, Chelsea. He cares nothing for meaningless social standing and advancement. The proof is that we live here, in Newhome proper rather than in North End. He wants to be with the people he serves, not secluded away from the world with the rich and famous.”
“In that case, your father is an amazing man. Like mine used to be before my mother and this town wore him down. But Ryan, you’re still not thinking this through. There can be no union between our families, for it would mean your family would be targeted by the debt collectors too. Also, have you considered what would happen to any children resulting from such a union? They would be persecuted and bullied throughout their school years if my background got out, and you can rest assured it would. This is a small town and rumours fly.” And if my brother was convicted of murdering Dan Smith, the bullying would be even worse.
Ryan shook his head emphatically. “You’ve got it all wrong, Chelsea. These obstacles are not reasons to stop us getting together, but things to face and work through as a couple. In the end, they would make our family stronger, not destroy it. You see, there’s nothing you can do, nothing you can say, that can drive me away. You’re the best, and truest, friend I’ve ever had, Chelsea, and I don’t want to lose you.”
I searched his eyes, saw the passion shining through, and my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. More than anything in the world, I wanted to embrace the vision he painted of a possible future between us, but I was trapped. To save his life, I had to drive him away. I just had no idea how to do it so he would actually take it to heart.
“Well?” He watched me, hopeful.
Then it came to me. I had one more card to play that would surely convince him he didn’t know me and would therefore invalidate his feelings for me. Then he would have no choice but to let me go.
“Ryan, you think you know me, but you really don’t,” I said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“See that billboard? ‘Report the Mutant.’”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“I’m one of them.”
He looked at the billboard glistening in the rain, taking in the image of the middle-aged man and his two children, all mutants possessing cleft lips and extra fingers and toes.
He looked back at me. “Now you’re just being silly.” All the same, I noticed he couldn’t resist a quick glance at my hands. Counting the number of fingers, no doubt.
“You’ve known from the beginning something was different about me, you just didn’t want to believe it.”
“Like what?” He was getting annoyed now.
“I can hear better than dogs and I echolocate like a bat. That’s why I was able to map the progress of those two Skel crossbow bolts and dodge them so easily. You knew something was off about me then, I saw it in your eyes.”
I had his attention now. His expression was morphing slowly from mild annoyance to dismay, if not horror.
“It’s also how I knew they put the DVDs in your bag. I overheard them talking about it when I was at the other end of the truck.”
“I...I don’t believe you.” He was really starting to freak out now, shaking his head in denial.
“I hear everything, Ryan. I can hear a G-Wagon on patrol several streets off, a mother and daughter arguing about the rain just around the corner, your watch ticking on your wrist, and the rain hitting the umbrella is like small claps of thunder. And, if I was to echolocate loudly enough, I could see your heart beating inside your chest.”
“You’re doing this – this echolocation thing – right now?” he asked.
“I never done it inside Newhome, not since I was five. I was warned not to. Besides, I saw the electricians installing ultrasonic detectors all over town when I was younger.”
“Who warned you?”
“I can’t say. Now, please, I have to get home.” I turned around then and did the hardest thing I had ever done. I walked away from him and didn’t look back. All the same, I half-expected and secretly wanted him to come running after me, to tell me that he still cared for me, that he still wanted me in spite of my mutation. But as the distance between us grew, it became glaringly apparent that I had finally managed to drive him away. And with that realisation I felt let down, disappointed, and ultimately, betrayed. Didn’t he mean those things he just said? That I was the most incredible person he’d met? What of his speech that we could overcome all obstacles in our way? How could he say those things and then reject me and walk away when I shared my deepest, darkest secret?
I wished Friday would hurry up so I could get away from this dump of a town and its never ending parade of disappointments.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Although heartbroken by Ryan’s betrayal, I eventually made it home. Karen informed me as soon as I walked through the door that the thugs had turned up on Saturday morning. They grabbed my wage from my mother and left without another word.
Then my mother got stuck into me, ranting and raving as she voiced her disappointment at my display of disreputable behaviour from spending the weekend at Ryan’s place. Assuring her
I slept in his mother’s room had no effect, so I had Karen help me take off my hoodie and shirt. When Mother saw the bandages, she dropped that line of attack.
However, seeing how badly I had been wounded just sent her over the edge about how close I came to being killed, and how something had to be done about the debt collectors. I pointed out that the escape was scheduled for Friday, and then I’d be out of harms’ way for good.
I made another attempt to get her to come with my brother, sister, and me, but she wouldn’t budge. She was as stubborn as a mule, that woman.
With Karen’s help, I changed into a dress, put up my hair, and ducked downstairs to the lounge. I used the public phone to ring the Recycling Works and call in sick. Trajan Barclay was not impressed, probably thinking I was faking it, but as I’d never see him again, it hardly mattered.
After that, I knocked on Sofia’s door. It opened a smidgeon and she looked out warily.
“Hey,” I said.
“What happened to you?” she asked when she saw the sling.
“Slipped over and fell on my arm. Clever girl that I am. Hey, can we have a chat?”
“Sure! I’ll take you to one of my favourite spots.” Sofia slipped through her door and let it click shut behind her. She never let me in, which was a tad strange, as she’d been in our room many times.
She lead me back to the fifth floor and we used the staircase to go up onto the roof. The rain had stopped, but everything was still wet.
I walked over to the edge and took in the view. It was breathtaking. I could see the large, gently sloping roofs of the factories before us, and row after row of glass greenhouses that comprised the market gardens. Beyond the factories and market gardens was North End. I was struck by how different it was to Newhome proper. Roads paved with coloured bricks, beautiful apartments, the multi-storey Chancellery that tapered to a spire, and the five-storey Genetics Laboratory with exterior walls made entirely of one-way glass.
“Quite a view, isn’t it?” Sofia said, wrapping her arms around her slim torso. “I like coming up here.”
Impersonator (Forager Impersonator - A Post Apocalyptic Trilogy Book 1) Page 22