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by Rachel Martin

  “Come on, sit down.” He patted the bed. “You’re making me nervous.”

  Almost reluctantly, she stepped forward and perched on the other end of the bed.

  “Ah, that’s better.”

  She giggled into her hand. They looked at each other in silence for a moment. Outside the door, his sisters were arguing. They were always arguing about make-up, boys, some meaningless crap he didn’t give a shit about. What did they know? He stared at the door and felt a tension grip him at the sounds of their stupid voices. He gritted his teeth. But, when he looked back at the girl, his anger ceased instantly.

  “Sorry,” he said apologetically, rolling his eyes, causing her to laugh again. “Music on, volume three,” he ordered. “Let’s drown ‘em out a bit, ay?” He winked.

  The girl beamed a child-like, simple smile, saying nothing.

  “Shouldn’t you be in school?” He nodded towards the emblem on her blazer.

  “Yeah,” she giggled, as if proud of herself. “I snuck out!”

  Ashley shuddered involuntarily. He was actually annoyed that she thought he would think it was funny. She stopped giggling and reddened.

  “You really shouldn’t be out here you know, it’s dangerous,” he said. “You should be in the compound, safe. You should be at school. Trust me you don’t want to end up like us!”

  He felt his face burn. Why was he saying this? Why was he feeling this way? He shook his head, removed his cap, and fanned his face, for the second time, he realised. No one else but her was able to extract the caring human being he kept hidden behind his self-constructed iron curtain. Why was she able to push him out his comfort zone?

  “You’re not so bad.” She inched closer to him.

  “You don’t know us. Seriously, you should dump us all like hot shit.”

  Sadie burst out laughing.

  “Sorry,” he added, his face burning even more.

  “It’s OK, you’re funny.”

  “So… anyway,” he said casually, stretching out backwards, rolling onto his side, and looking up at her. “Why you dissing school then?”

  “Dunno. Just felt like it.”

  His look strayed beyond her for a moment or two. He felt as though someone was dropping bricks into the muddy puddle that was his life. The ripples were reaching out and out. Drowning in regret, he sighed loudly.

  “I hope Elise and the others aren’t putting stupid ideas in your head. You can do something with your life Sade’s. You’re designed to.” He paused to watch her expression. She didn’t flinch. “It’s a Hell-hole out here. I wish I could’ve had good parents like you. I wish I could’ve gone to a good school. Or any school at all for that matter. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

  “Don’t talk about my parents. You don’t know them. I hate them.” She leaned forward, elbows on knees, resting her chin on her hands.

  “Why?” He leaned towards her and placed his hand on her back. “What’ve they done to upset you, ay?”

  “I… er… um….” She began fiddling with her thumbs.

  “What’ve they done?” His tone became more serious, he sat up stiffly.

  “Oh, nothing. Forget about it. It doesn’t matter. It’s just me being silly.” She spoke childishly into her hands.

  “Look at me.”

  She turned to face him. He scrutinised her face. He could see a burdened soul hidden inside her. She shouldn’t have such worries. Life was supposed to be better in there, especially considering he was sure she was one of the GM-classes. Simply superior. Evolution for those who could afford it, and she must have cost a fortune. He thought he would hate one of them if he ever met one. But the reality was different. After all, it was hardly her fault. Besides, she was so nice to him, and innocent, unlike everyone else. He doubted she knew. Would she really be out here if she knew? No, she was just as oblivious as his dumbass mates.

  “What’ve they done to you ay?” he probed. “They haven’t done anything… you know, weird have they?”

  “No.” She looked at him with a confused expression.

  He stared at her intently.

  “No, no.” She jumped up and began pacing about the small room. “No, I promise, it’s nothing like that, nothing weird like that, it’s nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve come here bothering you.”

  “You’re not bothering me.”

  “Good.” She smiled broadly. “I just wanted to… er… see you, Ash. I was bored at Lise’s den.”

  “Run out of ciggies did ya?”

  “No! What do you mean?” She stood still, hands on hips, pouting, scowling like a kitten.

  He raised one eyebrow and lifted one side of his mouth into a half-grin.

  “I was just about to go home anyway, but it’s too early. I didn’t want to. I’d rather come see you. I like you.”

  He couldn’t hold back his laughter.

  “Oh no, not like that. Oh, I’m saying everything wrong. I shouldn’t’ve come.” She blushed, crossed her arms, and sank on the edge of the bed.

  “So you don’t like me then?”

  “No, no.”

  “Oh OK then, that’s nice!” he joked.

  “Oh no, I’m not being horrible. I mean you’re handsome, but...”

  “Why thank you.” He smiled an exaggerated smile and poked her in the ribs.

  She laughed, unable to maintain her bad mood.

  “Please don’t say I said I like you.”

  “I won’t tell no one. Don’t worry. I promise, hand on heart.” He gave her his sincerest look. “Why you bunking off school then, you’ll end up regretting it.”

  “Why’re you not hanging out with the gang?”

  “Touché.” He laughed. They laughed. “Anyway, you don’t have to listen, but seriously you should stop coming out here. They’re just using you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Go back home, Sades. You don’t belong here. It’s dangerous out here for people like you. Especially wearing that.” He pointed half-heartedly towards her blazer.

  “Whatever.” She shrugged her shoulders and stared at the wall. “I don’t care.”

  “You don’t understand, do you?” A mute emptiness filled the air as if the whole world had paused. “I just can’t bear the thought of you ending up like us. That’s all.”

  She beamed. He rubbed his face and looked away from her young prying eyes. Somehow she, of all people, was able to remove his mask.

  “Anyway…” He stood up and peered out of his dirty window. “Go back to school, Sades.”

  He pulled the knife out of the drawer and began practising with it, again.

  A veil of silence dropped between them. The void grew, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He enjoyed the fact that he felt happy in spite of the void, because of it, in fact. There was no malice.

  “I hold two opposing opinions in my head at once,” Ashley muttered to himself, stuffing the knife in his pocket. “Yet, I am not confused.”

  He turned towards the girl with a broad smile. She threw him a quizzical glance.

  “Come on. I’ll walk you to the tube.” He was almost dancing. “I’ve had a great idea. The boys will listen to me now. We will do it! Haha. Come on. I’ve gotta go.” He laughed. “Come on you.”

  He offered her his hand. She took it. He pulled her to her feet. She bounced. They both laughed happily and disappeared out of the door.

  Four

  It was growing darker and darker. Events down on ground zero would be nearly totally obscured from this vantage point. Ominous shadows of the tower-blocks were expanding out and out, further and further, blotting out the light in the room. Soon they would dissolve into the black-hole of night. Through the windows, walls, and floors, Jack could hear the jungle of the slums awaken. There was a scream, gunshots, something smashing, a crash, a fight. He turned the sound up on the tele.

  Mia yawned, stretched, and tipped the residual dregs of wine into her mouth. She pushed herself up and strolled over to the kitchen. She le
aned over the counter and struck a match to light the candles. When the flat was just light enough to cast menacing patterns over everything, she blew out the match, retrieved more drinks from the fridge and stood back by the window.

  “Wow. There’s crowds of ‘em hanging round fires now. God-knows-who doing God-knows-what. They’re attracted to it like moths. Wait ‘til all benefits are cut, and all food banks and soup kitchens are closed. They’ll see.” She sniggered, crossed one arm over her middle, and lifted the glass to her lips.

  Jack could barely see her moving now. Not a tut, or a shake of the head. Here we go, here we go. He tensed in anticipation, held his breath, and prayed. But, it was a long while before she placed the half-empty glass down on the desk, turned, and stared mutely at him. He flushed with excitement but continued to stare at the tele. He lifted his can to his lips. She picked up her glass and set it back down, noisily. It’s happening.

  “Jack.”

  He did not reply.

  “Jack!” she called a bit louder.

  He huffed, turned down the volume, and looked up at her. She was standing bolt upright, eyes like laser-beams boring into his soul. She wore a crooked smile, and there was a look of pure lucidity on her face. Her gaze penetrated him with deep precision. It was a power she contained which he enjoyed, the ability to speak without words. He lived for these moments. He was compelled to take notice. He rubbed his forehead, squinted, and fake forced a smile.

  “Yes?”

  “I want to commit a crime.”

  Bingo, there it is. For a moment he just stared at her unblinking. This was definitely it. Her face blurred before his eyes. His Father shot to the forefront of his mind. It was that night all over again. The crowd was cheering. Something needed to be done. Something was going to be done. He blinked and became captured in her eyes. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. Longing for. The sparks ignited his passions.

  “What?” he asked, his mouth hung open.

  “I want us to commit a crime,” she said with conviction, never faltering.

  At that moment there was a loud gurgling noise as if the whole building were coughing and being sick. The fan started up. Electric. They unhooked the batteries and set them on charge. Mia blew out the candles and switched on the lamp.

  “I want us to do a crime,” she repeated.

  “Again, what?” He shook his head.

  “We need £500,000 each right?”

  “If you say so.”

  “Well, there’s no other way of getting it. I’ve been imagining all sorts of shit, but nothing comes close to the 500k we need. We’ve got to get out of here. There’s no other choice. We have to become like that lot.” Her head nodded towards the window. “We have to go criminal.”

  She sat down on her chair beside the window and leaned back, wearing an expression of satisfaction. She sipped her wine. Jack bit his nails.

  “Besides… what’s criminal anyway?” she added, slurring slightly. “They’re all as bad as each other, and we’re the arseholes maintaining it. If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”

  “So… you’re saying you want us to become exactly like the people down there whose lives you criticise every day?”

  “Yeah, why not? I’m starting to think I’m just jealous of ‘em.” She sipped her wine.

  He laughed in disbelief.

  “You know, I already told you! I mean, how do they just let rip like that? Do whatever they want without a care in the world. I want a piece of that… I’m not saying I want to do a hateful crime, nothing like mugging an old lady or something.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Not that there’s many of those around these days anyway, but no. I want to go bigger.”

  There were some more gunshots outside, followed by some shouting. Then another shot. Then silence. They stared at each other for a few moments. She stood up and stepped away from the window.

  “We have no other choice,” she stated, matter of factly. “I want us to do something that… you know…” She sat down beside him, against him, looking up at him. “Lands us a lot of cash in one or two hits, preferably one.”

  “Right...” Jack stretched out the word as he said it and looked away from her.

  “I’ve always been too bloody afraid to break the law properly, to get into any sort of real trouble. But they do it all the time.”

  “But look what it gets them.”

  “Yeah, nothing.” She got up again and stood by the window. “No one gives a shit about the slums anymore. But go to their compounds, and you’ll know all about it. There’s money to be made out here in the Estates. I know it. I can fucking see it from here.” She motioned towards the streets below.

  “That’s true,” he conceded, he had better give her something to go on. “I suppose there’s always money to be made if you’ve got the balls to go out and grab it.”

  “If you’re not afraid. Don’t you see?” She stepped closer to him.

  Jack watched the wine-glass in her hand. It was held at such an angle he couldn’t believe there wasn’t a trail of wine-stain blobs left behind her on the old worn out carpet. He looked up as she stopped before him. The spark in her eyes had grown feverish. He was in for it now. His stomach tensed, a tingling sensation travelled through him, he was excited. He lifted his beer and swigged long and hard. He rolled the can over his forehead.

  “What don’t I see?” he asked politely.

  “You know, I just see so many things from this window.”

  She motioned toward the window like a politician trying to sell a vision of a brave new world. She followed the movement with her head.

  “And it’s given me such ideas, such criminal ideas. Why should I care about anything or anyone, apart from you? We live among the thieves, druggies and killers because the slums have spread far and wide, wages are stagnant, and the walls are too high. You can only be dipped in shit so long before it sticks.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “It’s almost like they want us to be like this. So, why should I care when all I see all day, every day is this? It’s here to stay, it’s getting worse, and no one cares. Those bastards are watching it happen from their God-damned golden palaces… Do you know they have golf-courses now in some of the compounds? Can you believe it?”

  “Yeah.” Jack nodded “Makes sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “I don’t mean it like that.”

  “Whatever…” she continued, “and, now they’re starting to build glass domes over the compounds too.”

  “I know.”

  “I wonder why?”

  “I think,” Jack said, deep in thought, “that deep down, we all know the answer to that question.”

  “Exactly. Time is running out. I see it now. They feed us anti-depressants and drugs and whatever other bullshit, so we lose the will to fight, well not any more. Not us, we have to escape, we need to escape, we have no choice other than to escape. They know nothing. There’s a storm coming, and we’re in the mother-fucking eye.” She swigged more wine and flopped on the sofa beside Jack. “There’s no pride anymore. I mean look at us. I’m fed up. Really fed up. We willingly gave away our freedom for trade and consumerism. Consumerism.” She laughed. “What a joke. There’s a boot in our face forever. Unless we do something about it for ourselves. We can’t care about anyone else anymore. Things are only going to get worse. We should’ve said no. We should’ve fought when we had the chance. Even after the war.”

  “Some of us did.”

  “Not enough. Can you believe they used us to shout down the only ones trying to help? Who knew we were all so short-sighted? Perhaps we would’ve been better off if they actually liked real power over money.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t worry…” she swigged more wine. “Do you know I saw a child the other day that looked just like the Elephant Man being pushed by his desperate mother in a rusty old wheelbarrow?”

 
Jack winced.

  “She was probably one of the ones that got caught in the fallout zone round that nuclear power nightmare, but what if there’s more to it.”

  “Don’t Mi.” Jack glugged his beer trying to remove the image from his mind.

  He was lucky. He didn’t have to walk through the areas she did, searching for replenished stores.

  “That must’ve hurt.” Mia smirked dryly.

  “Don’t Mi.” Jack winced, again. “Please.”

  “Poor soul. How is that normal? The food chain’s totally fucked, and the heat. I mean it’s becoming Hell-on-Earth. Can you imagine this is actually better for the climate refugees?”

  “I know… I can’t…”

  “All I want is to make some money fast, that’s all. Then we’re outta here. And if they ever find out it was us, we’ll be long gone. But they never will. We’re in the slums, remember.”

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut and massaged the ridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He imagined how much easier his life would be if he had never met her. He was her one-man audience, it was overwhelming. But to not feel…? That’s how they control you. What other choice does he have? It was only in these moments that he felt real. It was only in these moments that he actually lived, when he imagined some other life, some other existence. He desired escape just as much as she did. He wanted to do a crime, it was real, exciting. It was hope. She was pulling him out of his anti-depressant drug-induced coma. It was scary how much they controlled you. His life was not his own when he was on them. He balled his fist. The rage was almost at the surface. Those fucking arseholes. He breathed deeply. Calm down Jack, push it back down. He opened his eyes, shook his head, shaking the thought off. He finished his beer, crunched the can, and pushed himself up slowly. He grabbed another can out of the fridge, then slouched back down on the sofa. Mia knelt in front of him and took hold of his free hand in both of hers.

  “You know it makes sense.” She gently caressed his hand until he looked at her. “I know you do. I can see it in you. Honestly, I swear I see people all day long doing crimes and getting away with it. Please, please, let’s plan something. I can’t live like this anymore. We’re just existing. I’m fed up, bored of this life. I’d rather be dead.”