She dug deeper, beneath the money, beneath the drugs, and discovered some old photographs. Most were of her parents when they were young. Her eyes widened at the sight of her Mother who was wearing the most alarmingly provocative clothing, a short-skirt and vest top! If she herself had worn that she’d be grounded forever. She thumbed through the rest of the photos. None of them were backed up on the hard-drives. These were the only copies. They had all been printed and deleted, why? What was so bad about them? Then she came to the last few, and the ice rose again, freezing her in place. She stared at them for a long, long time, slowly absorbing each image in turn. Her whole body was tense. She could barely move, her eyesight went fuzzy, she felt sick. This can’t be true, this can’t be true, this can’t be true. What the Hell. She continued to stare at the images. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she finally croaked to herself. What was worse was the letter she discovered right at the very bottom. It had been crumpled then flattened back out. As the letter and words on the page slowly turned into meaning in her mind, everything began making sense. She felt sick. She had to get out of the prison of the compounds. It was about time she saw life on the other side of the walls for herself. She had to know more.
As she remembered the initial shock of seeing those photos and that letter, that fateful letter, she felt the pain again, as if it was happening anew. She glared even harder at her Mother crying on the easy-chair. Who was she?
Six
“Oh Jack,” Mia looked up at him and smiled a smile so radiant, so full of hope and joy, that Jack felt his stomach melt, flooding him with serenity.
But, like everything else, the tranquillity she stimulated faded and was replaced by noise. Disturbing static infiltrated and cascaded through his veins like a pang of starvation. It blocked out everything else, every other emotion. How he wished he could have the feeling she filled him with forever. How he wished he could hold onto it and grasp it and make it an integral part of him. This was why he lived now, for these fleeting moments, like a heroin addict living in wait for the prick of a needle. Once more she had pierced him absolutely. He was warming to the idea. A crime, something exciting, something wild to match the world, what would anyone care? He needed more than this. They both did. He drank his beer.
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.” She kissed his hand, which was still held in hers, and looked up at him with that glint in her eyes, his hope. “You know for months now I’ve been feeling like I’m going crazy. I’ve been going out of my mind, trying to think of ways out. It’s like my eyes have only just awoken to how bad it is. Maybe it’s living here in this place where all you can see the worse. And it’s still getting worse. I honestly believe this is our only hope. I love you.”
“I love you too.” He held her cheek, gently caressed her face, and kissed her.
He slouched back while staring deep into her eyes, drinking her in. She pounced up on him. They kissed like two teenagers. They were heating up. She slid down beside him. He placed the can on his knee and twisted it round and round, feeling the cool ring imprint.
“What shall we do then, eh?” He leaned back, lifted his right foot up and rested it on his other knee. He swigged his beer.
“Well, the way I see it, we only have one real option. We have to steal it.”
“Yep,” he said. “I agree.”
“Good,” she said, nodding and turning her head toward the window.
At that moment the familiar sounds of gunshots and screaming and shouting and crashing echoed throughout the Estate. They both sighed simultaneously.
“And it has to be soon.”
He couldn’t argue with that. It made perfect sense.
“I would prefer something that didn’t hurt anyone innocent, no muggings, no drive-by shootings.”
They both laughed.
“I don’t want to become too much like them down there.”
“No?” he said, eyebrows raised.
“What about a security deposit box?”
“That would need a lot of planning.”
“Hmmm… yeah, I guess. Maybe something easier.”
“Like what? Where keeps cash like that?”
“Loads of places, probably.” She scratched her forehead and stared at the wine glass. “Perhaps we could break into one of those pawn houses.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe they’ll accept gold or jewellery as a form of payment down at the ports.”
“Yeah, if someone gets their hands on a fucking diamond, do you really think they’ll give a shit where it comes from?” She was staring into his eyes.
“Nope, greed takes over. No one gives a shit anymore. Not out here anyway.”
“Exactly.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Jack sipped his beer and waited for her next thought to flow out.
“What to do?” She tapped her lip with her finger. “I’m pretty much convinced that anyone could be persuaded if they’re offered a big enough taste… so perhaps we can convince someone on the inside of whatever it is we’re gonna hit.”
“Maybe.” He swigged from his can.
“Maybe we should start buying drugs. Find out who the real players are out here.”
“You’re funny.” He downed more beer.
“I’m serious. The gangs would be up for anything. We need to start mixing with the locals.”
“They’d be suspicious,” he said.
“I know, at least at first they would be. We do kinda stand out around here. Don’t we?”
“Yeah, it would take too long to gain their trust. But if we can wait, you have to start your drug career somewhere.”
They both laughed.
“Maybe we could just start another riot!” Mia exclaimed.
“Now that should be easy. Everyone’s up for a good riot.”
“Sure would be easier to break into one the pawn houses if there was a riot going on.”
“Sure would.”
“There’s no way they can put us all in the camps, or work us in the fields.”
“Doubt it,” Jack replied.
“Remember the last one?”
Jack gave her his how-could-I-forget look, with one eyebrow raised.
“That was fun wasn’t it?”
“You have selective memory.”
“Wish I’d got more into it now.”
Jack sniggered. “I bet.”
She leant forward and kissed him. He felt the warmth of her body against him, the wet of her lips. The path before them was becoming very clear.
“Whatever we do, we’ll need weapons.”
“I’ve got my gun.” She pulled her gun out of her bag again. She ran her finger along the top. “How I love the feel of steel in the evening.” She winked at him.
“Can you get any more, maybe a manlier one for me?”
“I can find out,” she said as she slipped the gun back into her bag.
She retrieved her wine. Jack watched her. As soon as her hand touched the glass, he tapped the side of his can. She rolled her eyes but got him a fresh beer anyway.
“We have to start thinking about only us,” she said sitting back down beside him. “I’m fed up of waiting for it all to finally implode. We have to make a decision and stick to it,” she sipped her wine. “No matter what. Whatever it is, no matter how dangerous or crazy. Whenever the situation arises. We’re in this together to the end. And I for one am looking forward to it.”
Jack leaned back and opened his new can. Another loud crack could be heard deep in the Estate. In that sound, a faint memory of a distant gunshot flashed through his thoughts. A heavy shell fell to the floor. It shattered his visions of the now. It echoed and shook his foundations. It brought out a new focus. Survival of the fittest kept repeating itself from the dark recesses of his mind. In this life, they had forgotten how to fend for themselves. They had forgotten what it meant to survive in the cold, hard world. They needed to remember. No, he needed to remember for them both. He would. He could. He was
sure of it. He needed to extract his fighting instinct and live with it at the forefront of his mind for the rest of his life. It was the only way. He needed to exist like they did before the walls, the chains, and the guns. Was it still there? Had it been bred out of him by civilisation? Somehow he doubted it because why would he feel the way he did if it had been? But, how could he know for sure? He had never been tested. He wanted to be tested. He lived to be tested.
“What is it? “ Mia asked staring at him.
“I don’t know,” he replied, blinking and focussing on her. “Just a feeling. Somehow I just know this is right, more than ever. Trust me, I’m always on your side.”
“Good,” she was still staring at him, looking at one eye then the other, wanting to know his thoughts. “Good,” she whispered as she looked away with a satisfied expression. She relaxed back into the sofa and held his hand. “I do trust you. You are the only person on Earth I do trust.” She sipped some wine. “So… armed robbery then, yeah?”
“Yeah. That’s one way.”
“You know once you’re prepared to die, it makes things so much easier,” she sipped her wine.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. It won’t come to that. I won’t let you die. I need you.”
“Ahh baby, I need you too.” She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. “I just want you to understand how serious I am about leaving. I really am prepared to do whatever it takes.”
“I know you are. I am too. I promise. But it won’t come to that.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know.”
“Good,” she said. “What about kidnapping someone? Maybe a consulate on his way to a compound? Or a child of one of the elite.”
“No way, too risky. They’d definitely take exception to that. You’ll end up being made an example of.”
“OK, OK.” She put her hand round his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. His heart started racing.
There was a thunderous knock at the front door.
“Oh my God. You don’t think that… oh no, oh no, maybe they really are listening,” Mia whispered.
They hugged each other tightly.
Seven
Sadie slid down from her stool. Her feet tapped the tiles almost silently. She skulked around the kitchen island, one finger running along the cool, smooth surface. She kept her eyes on her Mother who was still crying tears of shame and embarrassment into her skinny hands. This was the calm. She stepped ever closer towards her Mother. The shock she had once felt so painfully had now turned into a spiteful apathy for both her parents. How could they do something like that and still pretend to be the salt of the Earth? Both of their images were utterly shattered, broken into a thousand pieces in her mind. Nothing they said or did could ever repair them. So, what was she going to do now? She felt like her body had been completely dissolved, as if she were a dust cloud, evaporating out into the room, covering everything in a layer of dirt. Then it had been gathered up and put back together wrong. Yet, a certain freedom arose from the fog, it swept through her and all around her. She was glad she knew, knowing was enough to change things, knowing was enough to make a difference, she hoped.
Her Mother looked pathetic and pitiful. Sadie wished she would stop crying now. She wasn’t quite sure if the tears were genuine or for her benefit. Either way, it made no difference. Sadie would never be fooled into thinking her Mother was weak, she definitely wasn’t weak. Every time her Mother sobbed a new sob, a wave of dark-passion was formed inside Sadie. The waves were building and building into a tsunami of hate, every wail seemed to ignite a new dormant emotion, something that had been an entire lifetime in the making. They weighed heavily on her and pulled every atom of her down into the depths of herself. She could barely see through the veil that was forming around her. She had to say something, something to release the build-up of pressure that was pounding away inside her skull. If she didn’t, any moment now, her whole body would be ripped apart, changed forever. She shuddered violently and looked down at her Mother. She pursed her lips. From somewhere deep within, an ironic snigger rose up and out of her. It gurgled into the room. The sound was strange, almost inhuman. It wasn’t her voice. Her Mother looked up at her immediately. There was fear and shock in her eyes. Her innocent looking red and puffy face caused a deep loathing to ooze out of Sadie’s pores. What did she have to cry about? With her perfect life, in a perfect place, with her perfect husband, and perfect children. But, it’s not all that perfect really, is it? It is all a lie. A smirk lifted from the corner of her mouth. She watched her Mother see it. She scowled straight-away at the stranger on the chair. The look in her Mother’s eyes gave the impression that she was able to read in Sadie that one more sniff, one more wail, one more tear rolling down her stupid nose and falling onto her lap, would cause Sadie to explode.
“There’s no point in blaming other people, Mother,” she said slowly and spitefully, stepping backwards and leaning onto the island. “I bunked off school all by myself. I don’t need somebody else telling me what to do. I wanted to go somewhere new. Somewhere different by myself for myself. I’m not a prisoner, am I?”
Her Mother stared at her. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes were blank. It was almost as if she wasn’t there for a moment. She was lost. Sadie caught and stifled a laugh before it reached her throat.
“Of course you’re not a prisoner, Sadie.” Her Mother gently shook her head, then looked down and massaged her forehead with her fingertips. There was another silence. Her Mother slipped both hands into her lap and threaded her fingers. She tightened her thighs around them and looked imploringly at Sadie. “Where has all this come from? I just don’t understand. Why are you being this way? I barely recognise you at the moment.” She stood up and edged towards Sadie. “What’s happened to you?” She places a hand on Sadie’s shoulder lightly. “You can tell me anything, you know. Anything at all.”
“Can’t you guess, Mother?” She shrugged her Mother’s hand off.
Her Mother wrung her hands and stared intently at Sadie. “What’s happened? Are you being bullied at school or something?”
“No,” Sadie snapped, scowling. “Bullying is a thing from your day. Not ours. We’re all good children. We’re all equal.”
There was another silence. The humming from the fridge grew louder and louder and louder until it was all Sadie was aware of. It was igniting the air around her, like an irritant. Her eyes burned. Sadie had to move. She slid away from under her Mother’s gaze and walked around to the other side of the island. She resumed her position on the stool. This time she leant forward, resting her chin in her hands, and smirked at her Mother.
“You’re not… please don’t tell me… you’re pregnant by one of those…” Her Mother’s face twisted in fear and repulsion. “If you’re pregnant naturally they’ll abort it and sterilise you, they might even kill you, or banish you. Oh God,” her Mother shrieked. “You won’t be trusted anymore.”
“I know you’ve told me a thousand times before. I’m not pregnant. You’ll be pleased to know I’m still a virgin. They’re not all rapists and murderers out there after all.”
Her Mother’s look of relief was short lived. “For God’s sake then, please tell me what’s wrong?” She wiped her eyes with a tissue then shoved it back in her pocket. “I want to help you, please?”
Sadie looked towards the window. A blackbird landed on the window ledge. It was hiding out of the glare of the sun. It kept turning its head to and fro. A big black eye was busy taking everything in. Like it was photographing all the images it saw. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t a blackbird at all. Anything was possible. The eye stopped moving and stared right at Sadie. Sadie stared into the black abyss. There was a moment of infinite darkness between them. It looked lost, scared, angry. It seemed as if it knew. It looked away and opened its beak. If it made a sound, Sadie didn’t hear it. But, she felt it. She could sense the invisible threads whic
h joined all living things. The meaning transmitted through every fibre of her being. She was the blackbird looking in at herself through the sun-beaten glass. They were connected. Everything was connected. But what do these machines, these fake people know about any of that? It was falling. Collapsing into nothing. Of course the blackbird looked angry, it was dying. They were all dying. Sadie closed her eyes and whispered to herself, to the blackbird: ‘I’m sorry’. When she opened her eyes again, it had flown away. Gone. All gone. She sighed deeply and turned to face her Mother.
“There’s nothing you can do to help me now,” Sadie said quietly, sadly. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. She was fighting them back, angrily wiping away the ones that escaped with the back of her wrist.
“What is it darling?” her Mother said creeping around the island, toward her.
Sadie spun her head away from her Mother in disgust. It was all so pointless. Now it was Sadie’s turn to cry. Her stomach lurched. A tightness travelled through her which transferred utter helplessness all around her. Every atom ached and crushed her sense of self. Her lip wobbled. Her throat tightened. A chill cascaded through her insides. Finally, the tears flowed. It was all coming out now. Tears of a lifetime, of all lifetimes. She fell forwards onto the surface and began sobbing uncontrollably. In that moment she was so completely overwhelmed by sorrow, that nothing else existed. The world had evaporated, and she was floating in a sea of despair. She was lost in a gulf of her own making. But, the sensation of her Mother’s hand on her back flooded her with rage.
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