Pandora Jones: Admission

by Barry Jonsberg

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Okay.’ Pan tapped into her anger, found comfort in resolve. ‘Here’s the only thing I will agree with Morgan about. I won’t forget Cara. That’s a promise and you can bear witness. I won’t forget. And I’ll find the answers for her. You can take that to the bank.’

  She walked away and felt Nate’s eyes watching until she disappeared into the darkness.

  Chapter 18

  The dream morphed, as it always did, from images of bloodshed, deserted streets and the death throes of a city into another narrative altogether.

  ~~~

  The memories of pursuit filled her with panic. She looked up into the eyes of the police officer with the broad moustache.

  ‘What happened, love?’

  She pointed, her arm trembling.

  ‘Man. Attacked me. In the garden.’

  There was another officer. Pan hadn’t noticed her before. The cop with the moustache nodded to her and the woman came around the front of the car. He tried to ease his arms away from Pan but she held on tighter.

  ‘Hey, love. It’s okay. This is Laura. She’ll look after you. You’re safe. Trust me. But I have to get the bad guy. You hear me? You want to get the bad guy, don’t you?’

  Pan nodded.

  ‘Then you’ll have to let me go, okay?’

  He gently untangled himself from her grip. The female police officer – what was her name again? – put a hand on Pan’s shoulder and smiled. Pan leaned against the bonnet of the police car. The pain in her hip was growing. And other pains. Her arm, scraped and bleeding. How did that happen? She couldn’t remember. Her right foot pulsed.

  Pan lifted her head and looked down the street. People were out of their houses now. At least six of them, by their gates or standing outside their front doors. Where had they come from? And what had taken them so long?

  ‘You’re a brave girl,’ said the female cop. ‘We’ll get him, don’t worry. He can’t have gone far. Spraying his eyes was a smart move, by the way. What was it? Deodorant?’

  ‘What about the others?’ said Pan.

  ‘What?’

  ‘There were other men. At least three. Probably four.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s worry about this guy first. Get him and I dare say the others will follow. Come on, let’s get you in the car. You’re about ready to fall down.’

  She took Pan by the arm and helped her into the back of the police car. Even sitting was painful. And then the trembling began. It was as if she was having a seizure. Every part of her trembled, nerves and muscles twitching. Pan kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead, fought the sobs rising in her throat.

  The officer with the moustache had disappeared. The street scene seemed unreal. So normal. Like nothing had happened in it, or would ever happen. It was hard to believe that trees still swayed in the breeze, that the sun still shone as if nothing at all had occurred. Nonetheless, terror threatened to overwhelm her.

  The officer appeared again. He had his hand on the arm of a man dressed in a dark suit. The man stumbled and Pan could see his hands were handcuffed behind his back. The officer jerked him forward towards the waiting car. Fear, sharp as a knife, cut across Pan.

  ~~~

  She jerked up in bed, panting, a cry building in her throat. A light shone into her eyes, which she shielded with the back of one hand. There was a dark form looming over her, but the light was too bright for her to make out who it was. For a moment she wondered whether the dream had followed her into the waking world, so strong was the sense of danger.

  ‘Who is it?’ she gasped.

  ‘Pandora Jones,’ said a male voice. ‘Get dressed. Be ready to leave in two minutes. We meet outside.’

  The light snapped off and Pan was plunged into darkness again. She heard footsteps receding into the distance, a door opening and closing. She could also hear sounds of girls stirring in their sleep, but there were other noises as well. Some students were getting out of bed. She heard the scrape of feet on floor and vaguely, in the darkness, shapes resolved themselves. Her visitor had not come for her alone, it seemed.

  Pan groaned and swung her legs out of bed. The cold hit like a physical blow. Shivering, she dressed quickly and headed down the narrow corridor between the rows of bunks. When her eyes adjusted she could see that Jen, Wei-Lin and Sam were not in their beds. My group, she thought. My group has been summoned. As she got closer to the door she saw one girl, whose name she didn’t know, sitting up in bed, her blanket rucked against her chin. Pan could feel eyes following her progress.

  Outside, the night was cold, clear and dark. She hugged herself against the thin, biting wind. Four shapes detached themselves and moved forward. The girls from her dormitory and the unknown visitor. She recognised the bulk of Jen and the slender form of Wei-Lin.

  ‘Okay,’ said the man. ‘That’s it. Let’s move it, people.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Wei-Lin.

  ‘No questions. No talking. Just move. And on the double.’

  The shadow shifted and turned, ran down the almost invisible path. Pan sighed and followed. At least running would warm her up. It was strange running at night. The sky was dotted with stars but there was no moon. After a few minutes she had no idea where she was – there were no reference points to guide her. She suspected they were running towards the wall, but couldn’t be entirely sure. There were no sounds apart from the ragged breathing of her companions and the thump of boots on ground. Within five minutes she found her own rhythm and her breathing became easier. Within ten minutes she saw a cluster of dancing lights in the distance, four or five that merged together and then separated. Flame torches. They ran towards the flickering yellow flames which seemed to beckon with the promise of warmth. That’s probably what moths think, thought Pan, just before they shrivel in the candle’s flame.

  Sanjit and Karl were there, and so was Nate. Pan felt a surge of relief. She saw him first, his face down-lit by a flame torch. The flames made his face quicken with shadows and light. It lent him a sinister aspect. But then he saw her, smiled and the image softened. Pan relaxed. Whatever was happening, she was glad he was part of it, and judging by his smile, he felt glad she was here too. They came to a halt. The man accompanying Pan’s group picked up a flame torch and turned to face them. As the light flooded his features, Pan recognised him. It wasn’t a man, but the student who had been present at her meeting with The School Council following her capture in the village. Once again, she was struck by his sheer size.

  ‘Fall in behind me and keep up my pace,’ he said. ‘And there’s still no talking.’

  Immediately, he was gone, running along a rough track. The torch in his hand jerked as he held it aloft, the flames bending and swaying in the wind. The group followed and Nate fell in beside her.

  ‘What’s this about?’ Pan asked.

  ‘No idea. I was woken from a very deep sleep. No explanations. Just the order to follow. You?’

  ‘The same.’

  ‘If I wasn’t so curious, I’d be angry,’ he said. ‘It was the first night in a long time I wasn’t having bad dreams.’

  I wish that was true for me, thought Pan.

  ‘Can you tell where we’re heading?’ she asked.

  ‘Yup. I’ve done a lot of running at night. This path leads to the wall.’

  ‘Interesting.’

  ‘Exceptionally. The way I see it, there’s no point going to the wall just to run along the side of it. That would be ludicrous, even if this was just a night-time hike. You know, keeping the troops in order. Keep them disorientated. Make them follow orders without thinking. Nah. I think we must be going through it.’

  ‘Why?’

  Nate turned towards her and smiled.

  ‘Well, that’s the big question, kiddo. And I have absolutely no idea. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.’

  ‘You at the back,’ came a voice through the night. ‘Silence.’

  The group jogged for about fifteen minutes before the da
rk bulk of the wall became visible. As far as Pan could tell, they were roughly in the middle of The School, heading for the wall’s central point. There is a gate, she thought. Where the supplies from the outside world are brought into The School. Pan concentrated on her breathing and kept her eyes on the head of the person in front of her.

  Someone was waiting for them at the wall. A single spark of light hung a couple of metres from the ground. It cast a small halo on the stone. The group slowed and stopped. Without another word, the student who had roused them from sleep turned and ran away back towards The School. There was silence for a few moments and then a loud sniff. The single flame moved towards them.

  Gwynne, thought Pan.

  The man lowered his torch and the misshapen features of the weapons instructor were illuminated. The flames distorted his face even further. Shadows played across his shaved head.

  ‘Line up,’ he said and wiped at his nose. The group obeyed. Gwynne walked slowly down the line and then back again, stopping opposite Jen. He didn’t acknowledge her directly but spoke to the group.

  ‘Soon the door behind me will open.’

  Pan looked behind him but couldn’t detect any signs of a door. The stone wall was featureless. ‘I’ll lead you through, you follow. Single file. Do not deviate from the path. Do not look to either side. Complete silence. Understand?’

  ‘No,’ said Nate. ‘I don’t. What are we doing here?’

  Gwynne stepped up to Nate, held his torch close as if to get a better look at Nate’s face. He sniffed and again wiped his nose with the back of a hand.

  ‘Follow instructions. All you need to know. Is that clear?’

  Nate smiled and shrugged.

  ‘Clear,’ he said.

  No one else said anything. Gwynne turned towards the wall, raised the torch and waved it to and fro in a couple of lazy arcs. Almost immediately there was a grating sound and a section of the wall started to swing back. Pan strained her eyes to see any evidence of hinges or locks or handles, but there was still insufficient light. It was as if the wall was folding back on itself. What lay beyond was black as pitch. Gwynne turned, made his way into the darkness, and one by one the rest of the group followed.

  Pan was prepared to follow most of Gwynne’s instructions, but there was no way she was going to follow the third once she was on the other side of the wall.

  It didn’t do much good. She looked to either side of the stone path they followed. But even with her eyes well-adapted to the dark there was little to see. The shapes of houses or shops could be vaguely glimpsed, but no details discerned. There were no lights on anywhere. The village was uniformly blank. That’s strange, she thought. No lights at all. It was yet another fact to file away with all the other jigsaw pieces in her mind. There was a pattern or a picture, she was sure, but she couldn’t fit it all together. Yet.

  It became clear that Gwynne was leading them in a straight line at ninety degrees to the wall. That also was significant. There was only one thing that lay in that direction. The sea. Pan lifted her head, sniffed, and there it was. The salty scent of the ocean. After five or six minutes, Gwynne veered off to his left down a boardwalk. The wood gave beneath their feet, and Pan heard the gentle lap of waves. Looking to her right she saw the silhouettes of masts against the sky. We are leaving The School, she thought. We are being taken on a boat. For Cara. And something else.

  Gwynne stopped at the end of the boardwalk and the group halted behind him. Sanjit and Karl were breathing raggedly.

  ‘Down the steps,’ said Gwynne, gesturing to his left. ‘Single file. Into the boat, sit on the benches. Keep spaced out. Remain silent. Go.’

  Wei-Lin was the first, Nate and Pan last. Gwynne descended the steps behind her, his sniffing loud in her ears. At the bottom was the dark bulk of a boat. It was low to the water and not much more than a small fishing vessel. There was no cabin, just a broad expanse of deck, most of it covered with a tarpaulin. Wei-Lin, Jen, Karl, Sanjit and Sam were already seated. Nate skipped on board and she followed. They took up the last available spaces on the benches. Gwynne uncoiled the mooring ropes and then jumped into the boat. He made his way to the stern and for a moment was lost in the darkness. Then an engine sputtered and roared to life. The boat turned sharply and moved towards the open sea. Pan watched the wake developing. She was tempted to trail her hand into the water, but resisted. Gwynne hadn’t forbidden it, but she felt he would disapprove. So she kept her back straight, gripped the bench with two hands and looked back towards where The School must lie. She thought she could see the wall, but then the night swallowed everything. Within five minutes they were alone with the sound of an engine, the susurration of the sea and an upturned bowl of stars.

  Nate bent his head towards Pan.

  ‘Fishing trip?’ he whispered. ‘I wonder if there’s a cooler on board with fresh bait and some cokes.’

  ‘We’re here to say goodbye to Cara,’ Pan replied.

  Nate was silent for about thirty seconds. ‘For real?’ he said finally.

  ‘We were told she’d be buried at sea. We were also told that we’d be kept informed about arrangements. Why else would our group be here?’

  ‘Cara’s body is on board with us?’

  Pan pointed to the broad expanse of tarpaulin.

  ‘She’s under there.’

  Her voice must have carried because although no one spoke all eyes were fixed on the centre of the boat. It was Nate who eventually broke the tension.

  ‘I’m glad,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t bear the thought of her . . . going, without us being there to see her off. I’m surprised, though. I didn’t think The School would be so concerned about our feelings.’

  ‘They’re not,’ said Pan flatly. ‘There’s another reason for us being here.’

  ‘Yes?’ said Wei-Lin.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Pan. ‘I guess we’ll find out.’

  ‘You know something?’ The voice was Jen’s. ‘I’m tired of your crap, Pandora. All this air of mystery. “I know things, but I don’t know how I know things.” It’s all about you, isn’t it? All the time. Can’t you go five minutes without demanding that you’re the centre of attention? Reckon you could do that for us, Pandora?’

  ‘Cut it out.’ Nate’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp. ‘The last thing we need right now is conflict between us. Cara deserves better.’

  ‘Cara deserved better than to freeze to death up on some goddamn mountain,’ said Jen. ‘You knew where to find her, Pandora. Care to explain that?’

  ‘I can’t,’ said Pan.

  ‘Nate’s right,’ said Wei-Lin. ‘Let’s show some dignity, guys.’

  The engine suddenly throttled back from a whine to an idle. The boat’s momentum continued to take them forward, but it slowed considerably. The bow wave settled. From the back of the boat, Gwynne’s voice rose.

  ‘Good advice,’ he said. ‘Suggest you take it.’

  He stood and the boat rocked slightly before settling. Gwynne moved towards the centre of the boat and put his hands behind his back. The group watched and no one said a word. Gwynne sniffed and glanced down at the tarpaulin at his feet.

  ‘Give me a hand,’ he said.

  Sam and Karl got to their feet and took hold of the canvas edge at the boat’s prow. They rolled it back, passed the tarpaulin to Wei-Lin and Sanjit, who in turn rolled it towards Pan, Nate and Jen. Then they stood and looked down at what had been revealed.

  The sky was dusted with stars and the moon was a thin sliver suspended at the edge of a cloud. The light was sufficient to make out the pale and shrouded form, wrapped like a cocoon and washed with silver. Pan felt a sob rise in her throat, but choked it back. The body shape beneath the white sheet was secured with rope at the feet and the chest. It all seemed so desperately final.

  ‘Need help,’ said Gwynne.

  ‘Don’t touch her,’ said Nate, his voice low yet authoritative. ‘Just . . . don’t touch her.’ He bent down to the outline of Cara’s sho
ulders, slipped his hands between the shroud and the deck. The rest of the group arranged themselves around the body and when they lifted, the weight appeared negligible. Gwynne stood to one side.

  ‘Careful,’ he said. ‘Don’t go to the side. Shift of weight will tip the boat. We could all go over. Be gentle.’

  No one said anything, but they obeyed the instruction. Even so, the boat rocked alarmingly. Jen, who held Cara’s feet, carefully dropped to her knees, and the others followed her example. For a moment they were a silent tableau.

  ‘Anyone want to say anything?’ asked Gwynne.

  There was silence and Pan was glad. None of the group had known Cara very well. Anyway, whatever anyone said now would be irrelevant to Cara’s life and her death. It was best to deal in thoughts. Pan made a silent promise. I will find out how you died, Cara. I will find out and if anyone else had a hand in it, I will bring them to justice. You have my word.

  Cara’s body was eased into the water, Jen taking most of the weight as the others slid the shrouded form towards her. The white shape dipped beneath the surface of the sea and the darkness swallowed her. You have my word, thought Pan. One by one, the group got to their feet and took up their original positions on the benches. Still there was silence, though Sam wiped her eyes with the back of one hand, and Karl put an arm around her shoulders. Gwynne stood in the place where Cara’s body had rested.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘For what it’s worth.’ There was no reply. He sniffed and wiped at his nose. ‘Okay, listen up,’ he continued. ‘This was not the sole purpose. There’s a mission.’ Pan could feel Jen’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look away from Gwynne. ‘To a place where there may be survivors. May. The helicopter pilot reported movement. But it’s heavily wooded. Helicopter can’t land. Your task: explore, locate and rescue survivors. If any . . .’

  ‘Wait,’ said Nate. ‘We are the least experienced group in The School. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to look for survivors, but wouldn’t it be more sensible to use a party that has greater . . . skills than us?’

  ‘Correct,’ said Gwynne. ‘But small is good. Can’t split up an existing group. They need to bond. Like you. Anyway, chances of finding anyone are slim. Think of mission as exercise in survival.’