Disruption

by Jessica Shirvington

  Dad seemed contemplative as we left the diner and got back into his car. I watched on as sixteen-year-old me buckled up, pondering what Dad had been trying to achieve. ‘Wasn’t that kind of risky?’ I asked him.

  He chuckled. ‘You’re a good kid for worrying about her, Maggie. I promise I’m trying to do something good. It might take some time to iron out the kinks though. Our little secret, okay?’

  I smiled and nodded, loving that Dad and I had our Thursday nights.

  After a tired day at school, I found myself going through the motions in the stockroom at work. Gus had decided to shadow me. He wouldn’t let up, adamant that this time the risk was too high. He tried warning me with catchy phrases like ‘playing with fire’ and ‘bit off more than you can chew’ and, my personal favourite, ‘you’re beating a dead horse’.

  He was just sour that while I’d been stuck on the late shift, I’d forced him to meet with our particularly unfriendly new contact, Travis, to buy tonight’s intel. Not only had it drained the last of our funds, Gus had also been required to endure a fairly rough pat down.

  ‘Stop being such a baby. You were one block away and I was connected to your phone the entire time.’ Not that I was about to admit it to Gus, but I had stayed right next to the door the entire time, ready to run the distance if he’d had any major trouble.

  Gus gave a dubious grunt. ‘Travis said he wouldn’t deal with me again unless you’re there,’ he explained. ‘And frankly, I couldn’t agree with him more on this one. He creeps me out.’

  I shrugged, concentrating on loading my backpack with all the essentials. Money, check. Rope, check. Tranq gun, check.

  ‘Maggie, this is crazy. You can’t go back down there tonight. It was reckless enough going down there last night on such short notice, but at least it was a zone we’d worked in before. Junction 47 is completely new territory and you know preparation is everything. You’ll have to go out to Falls Church and the only entry way I’ve found is through the basement of an old homeless shelter.’

  It was a mystery how an entry way had ended up there, but we guessed it had to do with the previous businesses on the site before it became a shelter. I continued to unpack stock, knowing I’d be stuck working late if I didn’t. ‘At least I won’t have to worry about what I wear.’

  He didn’t see the humour.

  Gus just didn’t get it. If Dad was in that community and I didn’t go there, I’d have lost my one chance. Everything else we’d done, all the rules we’d broken, people we’d hurt and left behind, the ones we’d stolen from, and the ones we’d deceived – it would’ve all been for nothing.

  I checked the time. My shift was finished. ‘I’m going in.’ I didn’t look back at him as I slung my pack over my shoulder. ‘You know what to do. I’ll call you from the shelter.’

  ‘You’re losing it, Maggie,’ he called out, stopping me before I left the storeroom. ‘How are you even going to get there?’

  I’d been planning on catching the Metro, but he’d pushed too far. ‘Good point,’ I said, turning back and holding out my arm. ‘Mind if I borrow your car?’ It wasn’t a request and by the scowl on his face he knew it.

  ‘I really do,’ he replied, his voice thick with hate. But he held out his arm and transferred driving privileges to my M-Band.

  I smiled sweetly. ‘Promise I’ll treat her better than you do.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, I hope she wraps you around a pole.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ I said with a wink as I walked out the door.

  Getting in through the homeless shelter was so easy it was almost funny. There were so many people in the shelter, so many people fighting for survival in this society, that no one paid much attention to me. Once I was in, however, my task became more difficult. The maze of tunnels was disorienting. I lost my way on a number of occasions, and questioned whether Gus might’ve been right this time.

  When I realised I was just feeling sorry for myself, I sucked in a few deep breaths and got back to work.

  Eventually I found the community. It was the largest I’d seen. That alone should have encouraged second thoughts, but I was determined to continue so I pushed on. I surveyed the point I’d selected on the map carefully, ensuring it was the best spot to drop rope.

  When I couldn’t see anywhere better, I got on with it, sailing down the black rope on a relatively short drop and onto the roof of one of a handful of interconnected buildings. I jogged straight to the far side of the structure. I knew from the blueprints that this building had high windows and, given that the air vents were too small, they were my best option.

  Finding a spot to anchor another rope, I tied myself in and edged over the roof, positioning my feet on the wall.

  I inched towards the first window only to find it was locked. On the third one, I hit the jackpot. I squinted through the glass before I carefully slid it open.

  I found myself in a sparse kitchen attached to a dining area where the tables and chairs were bolted to the cement floor.

  Given the time, I imagined most of the negs were heading towards their dorms to meet their 10 p.m. curfew. I waited patiently just inside the door until I saw a young girl walking down the hall. She didn’t look much older than me and she was alone.

  As she passed me, I opened the door and pulled her into the kitchen.

  ‘What the hell –’ she started, attempting unsuccessfully to yank her arm free.

  Urgently, I put a finger to my lips. She was smart enough to stop talking and I was glad. I didn’t want to have to put her down.

  The girl’s eyes went straight to my clothes, pausing at my waist. Slowly, I released my hand and lifted the edge of my T-shirt, exposing my bare hip and proving that I wasn’t a neg.

  ‘You broke in,’ she deduced.

  It seemed an obvious thing to say, but most negs never dare to consider the possibility. They are taught there is no escape, so how could anyone break in?

  I nodded then passed her a picture of my dad. ‘Have you seen this guy? Is he in this community?’

  She glanced at me, then at the photo, before nodding slowly.

  My stomach flipped.

  ‘He’s not here, but I’ve seen him,’ she said quietly. The way she seemed so timid and restrained made me relax a little.

  ‘Where? Where have you seen him? Please! Is he still alive?’

  She passed me back the photo. ‘He was alive when I saw him.’

  My anxiety skyrocketed. ‘Where is he?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you as soon as you get me out of here.’

  I had my hand fisting her shirt before she blinked. I pushed her into the wall, my face close to hers. ‘You’ll tell me now before I seriously hurt you.’

  The girl just smiled. ‘I heard the guards talking. This site is scheduled for cleaning next week. I know enough to know the word “cleaning” means a whole lot of bad. You get me out of here and I’ll tell you everything I know. Or you can beat me up and leave with nothing.’

  Damn it, damn it!

  I released her. She was fearless, I’d give her that. I could probably push her, force her to tell me more, but there was something about her that made me want to help her. Save one. Just once.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Sarah,’ she responded.

  ‘Can you climb a rope, Sarah?’

  ‘I can do whatever it takes to get free of this hell.’

  I nodded. ‘If you fall behind, I won’t come back for you.’

  She licked her lips, excited. ‘I get it.’

  ‘You know if they catch us …’ I eyed her.

  ‘Not like I’m ever going to actually regret this choice.’

  I understood what she was saying. Her only other option was to stay. And she was right, if she wasn’t skilled and couldn’t be of use, things would be coming to an abrupt end for her soon.

  It was definitely a mistake. Nonetheless, I justified it in my mind quickly. She had information about Dad. But it was more
than that. I needed to do this. Needed to give the whole damn system the finger and set at least one person free. I gave her a nod, which caused her features to soften and eyes to fill with guarded hope, and then we were at the window. I went first so that I could get into position to help her up.

  She was surprisingly strong, and very determined; we made it off the roof and up to the tunnels in good time. I sprinted down the tunnel, Sarah panting at my heels. Everything might’ve gone smoothly, except when we turned into the main transit tunnel and started the run through the maze that would take us back to the shelter, I took a wrong turn.

  Right into an area where two guards were stationed.

  I drew to a skidding halt. Sarah took a few more steps past me before she saw what was in front of her and stopped too.

  It felt like slow motion.

  The guards looked up and saw her.

  ‘Hey!’ they screamed, raising their guns.

  ‘There’s someone behind her too!’ one of them yelled, but I was shadowed enough that they couldn’t see my face in the darkness of the tunnel.

  ‘Sarah, run,’ I hissed at her.

  She didn’t hesitate, turning back and lifting her feet. I spun around and started to move. Maybe we would make it.

  The shots were deafening in the tunnel, the sound rebounding off the walls. I turned in time to see her head rock forwards as it took the force of the second bullet. She went down hard. Motionless.

  My speeding pulse set my M-Band off with a string of wild beeps. My body jerked forwards. I had to check her. Even though I was sure. I wanted to check she wasn’t breathing.

  But then I heard the footsteps and I was running again. Another shot rang out and I felt the bullet puncture my side. I kept moving, my legs and arms pumping harder than ever before. I focused ahead, paying attention to the tunnels, making my way back the way I’d come and then eventually to the tunnel that led me to the homeless shelter’s basement door. It was concealed within their cool room.

  I burst into the cold space and then through the outer door I’d left wedged ajar. Trembling and clutching at my side, I cried out in pain and stared at my blood-covered hand. Every step was agony but I was certain if I stopped now, I would never make it.

  When I stumbled up the steps, I saw a dirty grey blanket hanging from the railing and I grabbed it, wrapping it around my shoulders to hide the blood.

  Head down, I walked through the shelter, my M-Band finally beginning to quieten.

  I was surrounded by people who had lost so much – homes, families, friends, jobs. Love. I staggered through the room and knew the haunted look in their eyes was eerily similar to the one that would now remain with me forever.

  ‘Miss,’ a voice said. ‘Miss, are you okay? Do you need help?’

  The man looked at me kindly, his eyes free of judgement. A freedom I did not deserve.

  I shook my head and kept going, dragging my feet out the door.

  ‘Miss?’ he called after me. But his duty of care had a perimeter and he didn’t follow beyond the door.

  Sixteen

  I banged on Gus’s door, leaning against the wall. I couldn’t remember the drive. Or parking. I could barely remember taking the steps to his apartment. Somehow the blanket was still half wrapped around me and I was clinging to it with a shaking and bloodied hand.

  I was starting to slide down the wall when the door opened and a hand caught me under the arm.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Maggie,’ he said, helping me into the apartment. He put me down on his couch.

  ‘Where are you hurt?’ He was breathing fast, his eyes panicked.

  I let the blanket fall away as a round of curse words fell from his lips. And then again, when he pulled up my shirt and the bullet wound gushed more blood.

  He ran to his bathroom and returned with a pile of towels. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. ‘We’re going to have to get you to the hospital.’

  But we both knew we couldn’t do that.

  ‘Maggie …’ He let out a weighted breath and tried to mop up the blood. ‘This looks really bad. I don’t think we have a choice.’

  I shook my head. It didn’t matter how bad it was, hospital was not an option.

  He cursed some more, disappeared, and returned with a glass of water and a handful of pills. He put them in my hand and held me up while I swallowed them. There were more than should be right, but I didn’t argue.

  ‘I need to see if there’s an exit wound,’ he said, gently pushing me up further and pulling my top up. I was fairly sure his answer was in the affirmative when he blew out a heavy breath. ‘Jesus, Maggie. There’s blood everywhere.’ He positioned a towel at my back before laying me down again.

  On the bright side, an exit wound was good news. At least he wouldn’t have to go fishing for a bullet. The sag in his shoulders told me he was feeling a similar wave of relief.

  He took a few more steadying breaths and looked again. ‘Okay,’ he said, trying to sound in control. ‘The blood’s bright so hopefully it hasn’t hit anything important. But we have to treat this. It’s going to hurt.’

  I nodded tightly. ‘Just do it.’

  He disappeared again and came back with a bottle of vodka. When he poured it onto the wound, I could feel it burn its way through as if it had set my soul alight. It was what I deserved.

  Tears sprang from my eyes.

  I didn’t make a sound.

  Once satisfied the wound was clean, Gus wrapped gauze around my belly, pulling it as tight as he dared.

  ‘This is only going to hold it for a bit, Maggie,’ he said.

  ‘It’ll do,’ I responded. ‘Can you drop me home?’

  ‘You’re staying here,’ Gus replied, distracted now by his phone.

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Can’t. Mom will check on me in the morning before she heads to work. Need to be there.’ I couldn’t handle her launching an inquiry at the moment. Plus, I needed to be back. My place. My bed. My nightmare.

  ‘Can you sit up?’ Gus asked, as he typed something into his phone.

  Whatever Gus had given me had started to kick in. I nodded and moved to get up. But when I couldn’t hide the wince, Gus was there with his arm under my shoulder.

  ‘You might want to bring a few towels,’ I suggested.

  He narrowed his eyes, glancing at the wound.

  I made a pathetic attempt at a smile. ‘Not for me. There’s blood all over your driver’s seat.’

  He grabbed the towels and cursed all the way down to his car.

  When I opened my eyes, I was back in my garage, lying on my bed.

  I swallowed, my throat paper dry. ‘Did I fall asleep?’

  ‘Passed out,’ Gus responded.

  ‘Oh.’ Had Gus carried me upstairs?

  He was sitting on the edge of my bed, looking at his phone again. ‘Mags, I gotta go,’ he said.

  I’d already figured he had something going down. Right then, I didn’t want to know what it was. I just couldn’t take anymore, so I nodded.

  ‘Thanks,’ I rasped, my eyelids now heavy.

  He looked down guiltily.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,’ I said.

  He shook his head. ‘That’s not it.’

  My eyes opened a fraction. ‘Then what?’ I asked, now suspicious.

  ‘Don’t kill me, okay, but you can’t be left alone right now.’ As he spoke I saw the lights of an approaching car light up my window. The car stopped and the engine was switched off.

  ‘Gus, what have you done?’ I whispered, dreading the answer. If he’d called my mom or Samuel, I was going to be extremely unhappy.

  He stood up. ‘I really have to go. I called Quentin.’

  I couldn’t stop myself. ‘How the hell could you do that?’ I yelled, my words slurring thanks to Gus’s painkiller cocktail. ‘After all your warnings! He’s the worst person to … Do you want us to get caught? Do you want to go to prison? How can you bring him into this now!’

  He smiled sadly. ‘You l
eft me no choice.’

  ‘I swear to God, Gus, you are going to pay for this!’

  ‘What’s new, Maggie?’ He headed for the door, pausing to look back at me. ‘And why do I think you’re more worried about him being involved than anything he could actually do to us?’ With a shrug, he left.

  My head fell back on the pillow. Perfect. Now Quentin was going to see me all messed up and weak. That was the last thing I needed. The entire plan depended on him knowing he could rely on me to help him.

  A couple of minutes later, I was trying pathetically to reach my blanket. I’d given up on reaching for my shoes, which wouldn’t come off until I untied them, but at least if I could cover myself with the blanket he wouldn’t see the whole dramatic scene.

  Of course, I was sweating like a pig in my futile attempts only to look up and see him standing in my doorway. Livid.

  ‘What the hell have you done now?’ Quentin boomed.

  ‘Great to see you too,’ I said, wincing as I eased back on the bed.

  Quentin continued to glare at me, a fierceness in his eyes that was pretty darn intimidating.

  ‘Sorry Gus bothered you.’

  He ignored my comment and said, in a low and threatening voice, ‘Who did this to you?’

  I knew he was worried about me, but his tone startled me so much that I shivered. One day that fierceness would be directed at me, and what frightened me the most was that the emotion I was feeling was one I hadn’t expected to feel for anyone other than my father. One I didn’t want to feel ever again. But invited or not, there it was. Regret.

  ‘You should go,’ I mumbled, turning my head away from him as I once again reached forwards to try to grab the damn blanket.

  ‘Stop!’ he growled, and then he was moving forwards and snatching the blanket further away.

  ‘That was just mean,’ I grumbled. ‘Please go.’

  But when my head finally turned to his, our eyes locked and I saw an intensity in his that told me he wasn’t going anywhere. He looked away quickly. And it seemed as if it was with a kind of shame, not dissimilar to my own. Had I done that to him?