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by Rachel Martin

  “Help,” Sadie cried.

  The old man covered her mouth again, and the woman smiled widely at her with sarcastic eyes. Sadie stared at her, trying to plead to her without words. The woman just continued to wear a smirk on her haggard, melting face. Sadie still stared into the woman’s black eyes, it was her only hope. But, as she did, she had the overwhelming sensation that these people were already dead. A couple of skeletons risen from the dead to haunt her. She imagined she was being accosted by a corpse. There was nothing else for it. The tears flowed and flowed, the stream dripped over the man’s hand. He laughed. If they were the living dead, what did that mean for her? Was she dead too? It was like she had descended into Hell after all. The women’s breath lingered in the air and multiplied in intensity. The old man’s claws dug deep into her arm, his palm pushing harder into her face. Her lips were forced into her teeth. She tried to turn her head away from the smell and the sight, but it was useless. What was she doing? Why was she here? But, at that moment, from the corner of her watery eye, she caught a glimpse of a shadow coming towards her with purpose. It was a man. He was carrying a pole. He grew closer, quickly, silently. Whack. He smacked the old man round the head and knocked him to the floor. Sadie fell with him but freed herself from his grip. She scrambled away from his unconscious body and sat hugging her knees against the filthy wall. The old woman froze in place dropping the things in her hands to the ground.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at him. She pressed her hands together. “I didn’t know she was one of yours. You knows I’d never of done such a thing if I’d’ve known. You knows me. Mister. Right, Mister.” She was nodding and trying to sound as cute and as innocent as an old hag could be.

  Everyone was staring at them. There were a thousand dead-eyes on the entertainment. Some of them were laughing.

  “You disgust me. You filthy old whore. What you doing hurting a little girl like that? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’ve got problems,” she said looking down at the man on the ground. “We’ve got problems… please don’t hurt us no more, ay?”

  “She’s got the cigarettes,” Sadie cried, looking up.

  “Give ‘em back, now,” he ordered, holding the pole behind his head, itching to swing for her.

  “I’m so, so sorry.” The old women fell to her knees and tipped everything out of her old moth-eaten cloth bag and pushed the cartons, the electronics, and everything else she stole, towards Sadie.

  Sadie flinched at the gesture. At that moment, Elsie appeared running over to help. She was doing the buttons up on her top.

  “Where were you?” Sadie screamed, the tears were flowing ever more.

  “I’m sorry Sade’s, I er, got distracted.” She shared a knowing look with Dwayne.

  Sadie cupped her face in her hands and cried harder still. Elise knelt down beside her and hugged her.

  “I’m so sorry, gal. What did these skanks do to you?”

  “Get the fuck outta here,” Dwayne said, poking the women violently with the pole.

  She shuffled backwards away from him.

  “Don’t,” Elise warned Dwayne, shaking her head.

  “Alwight, Mister. Alwight.” The old woman pushed herself up and grabbed the old man by the hand and started dragging him away.

  “If I see yous two round here again….”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice, you won’t see us no more.” She disappeared around the corner.

  They watched the old man’s dirty bare feet disappear around the corner after her.

  Elise hugged Sadie for a long time. Dwayne knelt beside her and put her arms around them both. Sadie’s tears slowly faded away.

  “Where were you?” she shouted.

  “I lost track of time, Sade’s, I’m so sorry, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “Good,” she shouted.

  “Come on, gal, you’ll be alwight,” Elise said.

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  They sat in silence. Dwayne stood up, “Do you want me to knock em around a bit more Sade’s, I’ll do it, just give me the word.”

  “Leave it.” Sadie actually felt a pang of guilt for her muggers. “Don’t worry, I should’ve known better, what the Hell am I doing?”

  Elise ran her hand over Sadie’s face and wiped back all the stray hairs that were clinging to it, “ah gal, you run all your make up… Whoo, did he do that to your eye,” she nodded in the direction of the tramps.

  Sadie put her hand in her bag and pulled out a mirror, some wipes, and her make-up.

  “No, that wasn’t them,” she said looking at her red, puffy face in the mirror.

  “Really? Are you sure? Dwayne’ll go finish them off if you like. Won’t you Dwayne?”

  Dwayne stood up over the girls, nodding. He was holding the pole back behind his head. The gang hated these scumbags. All they needed was the slightest excuse to get one.

  “It wasn’t them. It was my Mother. We had a row. She slapped me.”

  “My God, and there’s me thinking life was easier in there,” Elise said.

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “I know just the thing that’ll make you feel better,” Elise said after Sadie had fixed her make-up and hair.

  Elise stood and pulled Sadie up by her hand, “Come on, gal, you’ll feel better in no time.”

  “So you actually came then,” Marc said handing Sadie a bottle of cider.

  Sadie swigged and swigged. Elsie was right. It did make her feel better. Those ugly faces were fading from her memory already.

  “I said I would. I made you all a promise,” she replied, then guzzled down some more cider.

  Marc snatched the bottle away from her, “you’ll be smashed before you know it if you’re not careful. This ain’t some watery shit like what you’d get in the compounds, you know.”

  “Alcohols illegal in the compounds, actually,” she said sarcastically, already slurring her words.

  “Really?” Marc said, scratching his chin. “Illegal ay? Why am I only hearing about this now?”

  “We’ve never known someone on the inside before,” Preston said. “Not like this.” He pointed at Sadie.

  “It was rhetorical you moron,” Marc said.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Yeah… it’s illegal, but that doesn’t stop people drinking it though, does it?” she said thinking of her parents.

  She tried to prize the bottle from Marc’s hand. He whisked it away.

  “No, you’ve had enough… for now,” Marc said. “How would you feel about sneaking some bottles into the compounds to sell to your friends and family?”

  “Do they really chop your hands off if you break the laws?” Tasha asked.

  “Shut up Tash,” Marc said, pushing her on the shoulder, causing her to almost fall off the wall.

  “Listen. I’ve found a way for us all to get into the compound.”

  “How?”

  “I have my ways,” she said mysteriously. She smiled broadly. “It’s one of the reasons I came out here tonight. I wanted to tell you all about how to get in there. I want you lot to come in and teach them all a lesson. You have no idea what they’re planning for you lot out here.”

  “What do you mean?” Marc asked.

  “I’m not sure yet, but I know it’s got something to do with the vaccines.” She looked up at Marc.

  “What about them?”

  “I don’t know… but I’m going to find out. I think my Dad knows or at least can find out. He works for the pharmaceutical section of The Company. He won’t tell me, but if I had you guys with me… I mean, I need someone he’d be scared of to confront them. What they’re doing is just wrong. I know it.”

  “I’m not sure Sade’s. Is breaking into the compounds really the best idea?” Marc said. “I’m always up for something wild, but not there, their tech is way dope.”

  “But you have me. I have a whole load of electronics here to show you, to teach you. Besides wha
t other choice do you have? I’m not sure how much time there is left to argue.”

  There was a muted silence. Sadie went for the cider bottle again. This time Marc let go easily. She swigged. She had all but forgotten her muggers.

  “You must make up with Ashley? I need him to come too. I can’t show you without him. You have to all come together. I need you all.”

  “Got a bit of a crush on our Ashley, has this one,” Elise said.

  “No I have not,” Sadie said, her cheeks were burning.

  “Yeah, right,” Dwayne said, nudging her with his elbow, and winking annoyingly.

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

  “Can everyone stop talking about that little piss ant,” Marc said. “I don’t want to hear his name until he comes out and apologises to me, like the little piss ant he is.” Marc grabbed the cider back and had a sip.

  Sadie wanted to say: but you strangled him. She wanted to tell Marc off. She wanted to tell them all to stop being so bloody stupid. She wanted to say a lot of things, but instead, she bit her tongue and looked into their fire. Why were they always arguing? A hand gently rested on her shoulder. She looked up. It was Elise.

  “You feeling better now?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  “Don’t worry about those two,” she whispered in Sadie’s ear. “They’ll kiss and make up in no time. I promise.” She hugged Sadie. “They’ve been like this since they was kids.”

  Sadie stared into the fire and began imagining the gang as children. Trying to understand what it must have been like to grow up in a place like this. People definitely seemed to only thrive when they worked together, everything they did was for the good of the gang, they were a multicellular beast. She had never been more aware of the fact that Ashley was messing it up for them. They didn’t know how to deal with his moods. Gang-law was all they knew, all they cared about. They didn’t have to worry about careers and being an asset to the new society. They worried about survival in its basest form. She would never understand, not really.

  “So what’s this plan of yours then? How are you going to get all of us all into the compounds?” Elise asked.

  “I’ve always wanted to see inside one of them,” said one of the other girls.

  “What makes you think you’ll be coming?” Preston said.

  “You’re all coming,” Sadie said. “All of you.”

  “But first,” Preston continued. “You’re going to help us break that code tonight, remember?”

  “I know, I’m ready, I’ve bought all the stuff I need. But I want to see Ash first. I have to know he’s alright.”

  Marc glared at her.

  “Sorry,” Sadie apologised, looking at the pavement sheepishly.

  “Why’s everyone got such a wide-on over Gash? He don’t even know about this code thing,” Preston said.

  “He’s smart and fast,” Dwayne said.

  Marc smacked Dwayne round the head.

  “Not as smart as you though, obvs,” Dwayne said, rubbing his head and stepping out of Marc’s reach.

  “Please, can I have another swig,” Sadie asked Marc, her arm stretched out.

  He handed her the bottle. She swigged and swigged. She was becoming fearless now.

  “I’m going to talk some sense into him.”

  “Leave it, Sade’s,” Elise warned. “You don’t need to get involved, it’s between them.”

  “No, you’re wrong. It’s between all of us. The gang needs to stay together.”

  “Yeah, it will, give him time,” Elise said.

  “No, he needs to apologise now. He’s part of the plan.” Sadie stood up and wobbled a bit. Her head was spinning and felt light. She lifted her hand to her head and waited for the feeling to pass. Then she had another big swig of the cider. “I’m going to talk to him now. I’ll be back a bit later. Look after my bag, it has everything we need in it.”

  She had one last swig then gave the bottle back to Marc. She was really feeling the buzz now. She began walking towards Ashley’s flat.

  “If he don’t want to apologise, don’t bring him back,” Marc called after her.

  There were running footsteps behind her. It was Elise. She pressed a flick knife into her hands.

  “Just in case,” she said, then kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t be afraid to use it. Just one little flick, OK.”

  Sadie nodded.

  Away from the fire, it was almost completely black. She stepped up the concrete stairway, slowly, gingerly, listening out for anyone. As she rose higher and higher, she felt a pressure weighing down on her. Was she really going to be able to convince Ashley to apologise? Would he believe a thing she said? He had to, he absolutely had to. She had to convince him. She could convince him. She stood looking down the gangway to his flat. She felt cold, even in the heat of the night. This would all be over one day, she thought. Not that far away either. It will be sorted, one way or another. Just another little push onwards. She began stepping down the gangway, a breeze swept over her face. The ordeal she just went through was nothing more than a distant memory, thanks to the cider and her resolve. It no longer belonged to her. It was a lifetime ago. All that mattered was getting to Ashley.

  A door swung open ahead of her, and someone rushed over to the balcony and leaned over it. For some reason she fell to her knees, seeking cover. As she looked, she thought that the person was being sick in the dim light of the night. They weren’t. She waited, perfectly still and watched. It was Ashley. His face shone in the yellow, hazy, moonlight. She knelt down. If she didn’t move, he wouldn’t see her. What was he doing? He stood without moving for a long while. Is he alright? His gaze turned quickly her way. He lingered. As if caught in the grips of a heavy thought. ‘Wait for me Ashley’, she wanted to call out but didn’t. ‘I’m coming, just go back inside’. He turned away, then moments later started jogging in the opposite direction. She was relieved and annoyed in equal measure. She wasn’t ready to tell him to come like this. She wanted it on her terms. She gulped and began following him. Something was telling her to trail behind him. She listened to it. She was reacting purely on instinct.

  She watched as the train rolled away as Ashley approached the platform. She felt his anger pass through her like a whirlwind, and in that moment they were connected as one being. She sat behind a pillar, hiding out of his line of sight, and waited. She gripped the knife in her pocket. The alcohol was making her angry, if anyone tried to grab her again, she would be forced to stab them, or at the very least scream and Ashley would come running. Besides all the dead-eyes around her were wary of her again, they knew she was the gang's property now, the message would have spread like wildfire, they wouldn’t dare, they couldn’t. Should I go over and tell him now? She wondered. No, she told herself, wait. She wanted to know more about what he was up to. She could tell that he was going somewhere with purpose, but it was killing her to just sit and wait. She peeked over at him. He was sipping some clear liquid from a bottle. His face twisted in repulsion. She could almost taste it in her own mouth. She felt it roll down her throat. It made her warm inside. She leaned back against the pillar and listened to him get up and pace. He was muttering to himself. She pulled her knees beneath her chin and closed her eyes. She tried to stop his nervousness infiltrating her. She gripped the knife in her pocket. She needed more alcohol to numb the fear. But, she didn’t want to be numb. She wanted to be just right when she told him. Not long now, just follow and see where he takes you.

  The train arrived. A few people hanging about at the platform got on. She stepped onto the carriage behind Ashley’s, and stood by the door linking the carriages together. The train started moving again. She leaned to the side and peeked through the window and immediately looked away again.

  “What the…” she said to herself.

  She looked again. She sat down. What the Hell were Mr and Mrs Meade doing on this train in the middle of the night. They were supposed to be visiting their posh friends at the Millennial
Compound! But, instead, they were sitting opposite Ashley in his carriage. There was no way in a million years she could let them see her. Although, they would probably be just as embarrassed as she was. Still, she couldn’t get caught, not when she was so close to doing what she had to do.

  She watched him stare at his phone. Every time the train stopped, she checked to see if he was getting off. She wished he would hurry up. The motion of the carriages was making her feel queasy. The cider began repeating on her. She leaned against the wall and breathed in the hot, metallic, putrid air of the carriage. She tried to wrench open one of the windows. It was stuck fast. She looked into his carriage. Where was Ashley? She searched. He was sitting next to the Meades. He was talking to them. What was going on? Her mouth hung open. He stood up. The Meades and their friends were all staring at him. He walked towards the doors and waited. Was he one of the outreach people Mrs Meade was helping? Or was that Mrs Lane? She couldn’t remember. How she wished the alcohol wasn’t in her veins now. Did Ashley need help? The train stopped. Ashley got off, so did the Meades and their friends. She hung back, but followed them out. Then they split up, she followed Ashley through yet another depraved housing estate. There were homeless and junkies at every turn. Their glazed eyes watched her pass as if she were a new hologram on the tele. She wasn’t quite real. She picked up her pace and squeezed the knife in her pocket for comfort. She wanted to call out. She didn’t, for some reason, following seemed the right thing to do, like she was on a journey that would mark her transformation into an adult. She had to know more. Ashley suddenly veered off into a small thicket. Where was he going? The trees were decorated in all types of junk. They seemed to be crying. It was so dark. The moonlight shone orange through the smoggy skies creating broken faces, witches, and demons in the twisted branches. She shivered, despite the heat. Ahead of her, she could hear the cracking of twigs, the rustling of leaves. It was Ashley, she knew it. What was he doing? She crept closer and closer trying not to kick a can or step on a twig. She knew she shouldn’t be here. She knew that what she was doing was wrong. She knew he wouldn’t like it. But she had come so far, she felt that this was her test. Everything around her faded into nothing as the sounds of Ashley grew closer. She could hear his heavy breathing. He unzipped his bag. Just a few more steps and he would see her and stop whatever it was he was doing. The canopy was thinning out above her head. The yellow moon broke through the branches in larger rays. The road must be just ahead, just out of view. She was about to call out when she heard another sound, a very different sound. A car door opening. She stopped moving and listened. A car door slamming. The activation sound of a car, a hybrid-car. That airy, mechanical bootup, followed by an engine. By the time she fought through the bushes and branches, he was driving down the dark, deserted road. She watched the red lights on the back of the car fade away into the distance. They seemed to linger in the air before her. A trail to follow. It seemed magical, mystical. She was caught in their web. She was impelled, against her better judgement, to run after them.