Infiltration (Infiltration Book 1)

by Susanna Rogers

  “Small problem,” I said. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

  “You can borrow one of mine. It’s the refreshments situation that’s a problem.”

  Lauren’s mom, Marion, wandered into the kitchen, stroking the cat in her arms and mumbling, “Who’s my little cutie Minnie Winnie who likes being patted?” Then she stopped and stared at Lauren. “You’re not going to the store again, are you?”

  This was typical. The cat was a cutie. Meanwhile Lauren was always doing something wrong. At least that was the way it seemed.

  “Mom, what difference does it make to you if we go to the supermarket or not?” Lauren said.

  “I was just asking,” her mother said.

  “The store’s not far,” I added. “We’ll be fine.”

  Minnie wriggled in Marion’s arms so she opened the back door and let the cat out. “Lauren, I worry about your wellbeing and I want the best for you. Is that so terrible?”

  “Well, you can stop worrying,” Lauren said.

  Her mother crossed her arms, drumming her fingers on her upper arm. “Weren’t you on your way out, girls?”

  “We’re nearly ready to go,” Lauren said.

  Marion turned to the door. “So am I.”

  “Sorry about that,” Lauren said to me after her mother left.

  I shrugged. “No problem.”

  Unfortunately this particular problem was all hers. I didn’t have to live here, not for much longer and not in this house.

  Lauren wrote a shopping list, checked she had enough money, and the two of us headed off.

  As we stepped through the front door, the screech of car tires cut through the air followed by a soft thud.

  “Someone’s in a hurry,” Lauren said.

  We headed down the front path as the car sped off. A lump of black and white fur lay on the road to my right.

  Oh, no.

  I touched her arm. “Lauren.”

  She gasped and ran to the side of the road. Didn’t say a word. Tears were running down her face as she dropped to the ground and picked up the bundle of fur. Minnie.

  I sat beside Lauren and put my arm around her. I wished there was something I could say to make her feel better. Minnie was limp and mewing softly. She was alive. Just.

  “Darling, no…” Lauren’s mom crouched on the other side of us, looking down at Minnie. She stroked the pet. As she pulled her hand back, the cat’s fur stayed sunken. The bones below were probably shattered.

  “I’m so sorry,” Marion said.

  A horrible, pained mewing escaped the cat.

  Lauren looked across at her mother. “Mom, we have to go to the vet. Now.”

  “We will, honey, but I want you to be prepared for the worst.”

  Looking down at Minnie, I saw her green eyes were staring out at an uneven angle.

  “She’s in a bad way,” Marion said. “She’s in a lot of pain. The best thing would be if she could pass away quickly right now. If I could put her out of her misery immediately, I would.”

  I could do it.

  It’d be merciful and quick, at least. If I carried Minnie to the car, I could snap her neck in two while the others weren’t looking. I’d killed animals before for food. This wouldn’t be so different and it’d be the best thing for Minnie.

  Except I didn’t have it in me.

  I couldn’t do it.

  No way could I hurt this little kitty even when that was what she needed the most.

  We drove in silence to the after-hours veterinarian, the cat’s pained cries loud and clear even over the sound of the engine. Each screech sent a pang through my gut. I could only imagine how Lauren must be feeling.

  The duty nurse saw the seriousness of the situation and sent Marion straight through while Lauren and I waited. She didn’t have the heart to go inside the vet’s office.

  Not long after, her mom came out. Alone. Minnie had been euthanized.

  I didn’t want to leave Lauren by herself that afternoon so we lounged around on the floor in her room and watched a movie. It didn’t feel right to go down to the pool after what had happened. Sunshine and grief didn’t go together and I hadn’t been feeling so good to start with.

  After the movie finished, I put my hand on Lauren’s knee. “I’m really sorry about Minnie.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not your fault. I’m glad she’s not in pain any more.”

  I was too, but I knew what Lauren didn’t. I could’ve ended Minnie’s pain sooner.

  I was in trouble. Serious trouble.

  If I couldn’t kill an animal to put it out of its misery what chance did I have of murdering a human being?

  I’d killed exactly two people in the past but that had been under a completely different set of circumstances. It had been in self-defense. Kill or be killed. It hadn’t been bravery. I’d had no choice. Somehow that had made me a hero.

  But I wasn’t a hero.

  And I wasn’t a murderer.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was 2.00am on Saturday and I was asleep in bed. The pinprick on my hip felt more like a sledgehammer. I’d never been more awake as I ripped off my PR, swung my legs over the bed and stared at the small screen in the darkness. This time the message was from my superiors, not Lucien.

  The time travel teleportation device has been updated for your return. You have exactly 48 hours.

  That was probably what they considered a generous amount of time. I should complete my mission immediately. It’d be easier that way and it wasn’t as if I had a choice.

  * * *

  I pulled the front door closed quietly behind me and breathed in the brisk night air. I’d already snuck through the house past my sleeping parents, already phoned Ben, already set everything up.

  Hands in the pockets of my hoodie, I headed down the street for the park that sat half-way between my house and Ben’s.

  I upped my pace. It wasn’t enough to try. I had to succeed. Getting there was only half of the job. The easy half.

  When I reached the park, a tall figure was seated on a bench in the dark. Ben, it had to be. He stood and I walked slowly toward him.

  I’d brought my preferred weapon. A knife. With each step, the holster chaffed on my calf under my jeans. Making the holster, buying the blade from the martial arts store, strapping the holster to my leg – these things were routine to me. The next step was anything but routine.

  I was closer now. Though it was dark, my eyes had adjusted and I could make Ben out quite clearly. He reached out, ready to fold his arms around me. The thought of that was too much for me so I took his hands into mine and held him at arm’s length. I couldn’t get too close. Not in that way.

  “Glad you could make it.” I took a seat on the bench.

  Ben sat beside me. “Of course I came. You called. I figured you needed me.”

  “I just…I had to get away.”

  “It’s okay, Nicola. I’m here.”

  I kept thinking about Lauren’s cat. I hadn’t been able to kill the animal. I’d been useless. I couldn’t be useless now.

  “Do you want to talk?” Ben asked. “Is that it?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Come closer. You need a hug.”

  Even in the dark, his green eyes glimmered with emotion. My mouth dropped open. I wanted him to hold me. I didn’t want him to hold me. I didn’t want any of this.

  Ben put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. A long breath escaped me as I let myself slide against him and down onto the bench. Though we seemed to fit together so well, it was an illusion. Ben made me feel as if anything was possible when I knew full well it was not.

  There were other things I knew too.

  Such as exactly how to execute him. I could distract Ben and pull the knife from its holster. In fact, I wouldn’t even need to distract him. He wouldn’t have a clue what was coming. I could plunge the knife through his heart and he’d gasp. He wouldn’t have the air to scream. Then I could slice across his neck and step back
so I didn’t get covered in blood. And I could leave.

  One eye on Ben, I reached down and slid my hand along my leg, over the holster, over the knife, down to the hem of my jeans. I inched the denim a little higher, scrunched up the fabric, and stopped.

  I couldn’t do it.

  But I already knew that.

  “Everything okay?” Ben asked.

  I scratched my leg, then sat back up. “Just an itch.”

  Ben put his arm around me and I stiffened.

  “You’re tense.” He squeezed my shoulders, gave them a quick rub. “You’ve got to relax.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’ll try.”

  It seemed pointless to relax but, then, what was the point of anything? I was here. I might as well fake it. When I got home, I’d hide the knife under the plinth at the base of my closet in the same place I’d hidden my father’s gun. One day the weapons might be found or they might not. That was the least of my problems.

  His arm around me, I leaned into Ben’s body and tried to focus on the moment because that was what we had. The two of us together. Now.

  I don’t know how long we sat there in silence, only that it felt good to be close to someone. Not someone. Ben. He wasn’t demanding. He didn’t want to know why I’d dragged him out in the middle of the night. He was just…Ben.

  Eventually, I asked, “Don’t you ever feel like it all gets too much for you?”

  “Like what?”

  “Everything. This world. The things we have to do.”

  “I know what you mean. Just getting by can be hard work.”

  “Sometimes I wish I could go away. Or stay. I don’t know which. I don’t even know what I want.”

  “When you’re with me, you can talk. Or not talk. You know that, don’t you?”

  My heart sank. “Ben, you’re too good to me.”

  “If you ever think things are getting too hard for you, call me. Right away. Like you did tonight. You’re not on your own. I’ll be here for you.”

  But would I be there for him? He didn’t even ask.

  And that only made me feel worse. Ben filled me with warmth just by being here, yet I felt sick to the stomach at the thought of what was going to happen. In New Nation, failure was viewed as disobedience – not to be tolerated. The punishment was severe. It didn’t get any more extreme.

  “You’ve got so much to look forward to,” Ben said. “We both do.”

  “Like school?” I asked, deadpan.

  “Like Saturday night’s party. And graduation and college and a hundred other things.”

  “What if we only had now? What if the world was going to end in five minutes?”

  “Then I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d stay here with my arm around you. That wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, would it?”

  He made me smile. After everything I’d done, the mission I’d planned and couldn’t complete, after dragging him out here in the early hours of the morning to finish him. After all those things, Ben still made me feel as if there was hope.

  “No,” I said. “It wouldn’t be so bad.”

  And it wouldn’t.

  It’d be a hell of a lot better than what was to come.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You can’t possibly wear that to the party,” Lauren said as soon as I walked into her bedroom.

  I’d done my bit and got dressed up though not into an actual dress as that would’ve been taking things too far.

  “Why not?” I closed the door behind me. “It’s nice. My mother chose the blouse.”

  “Exactly, it’s nice.” She screwed up her nose. “I’ll find the right sort of top for you to wear.”

  Lauren made a beeline for her closet, opened the doors, rifled through one of the shelves and handed me a scrap of deep pink fabric. “Try this on.”

  I unbuttoned my blouse and peeled it from my shoulders.

  “The jeans look fabulous, by the way,” she said.

  Thank goodness I’d got at least one thing right. She tapped my stomach and added, “The abs are rather fab too.”

  “Thanks,” I replied though I failed to see why she found my muscle tone so remarkable.

  “And that bra is really racy.” Surprise in her voice.

  “Is it? My mother bought it for me.”

  Lauren laughed. “No wonder she gave you the sensible blouse to cover up.”

  I pulled Lauren’s top on only to find it clung to me like a second skin. There wasn’t much to it. The scoop neckline was so revealing it barely covered my bra and the hem didn’t quite reach the waistband of my low-slung jeans. And it was pink. Enough said.

  “Isn’t this a bit tight?” I asked.

  “Perfect,” she said. “Now all we need to do is take care of your make-up.”

  “Make-up?”

  There was a first time for everything. We had make-up in New Nation of course, but it was expensive and I didn’t know anyone who actually wore it.

  Half an hour and much giggling later, Lauren had outlined her eyes in black kohl pencil and given herself glossy lips. When combined with the highlights in her hair, it made for a funky look. At least that’s how the other kids would describe it.

  Meanwhile I felt extremely unfunky and opted for the natural look though I wasn’t sure of the point when I looked completely natural without any cosmetics.

  The party wasn’t far from Lauren’s place so we walked. The front door was open, the house empty until we reached the rear living area. The ceiling was covered with helium balloons, their colored ribbons hanging down.

  We stepped through a set of French doors into the back garden where a large group had gathered. Everyone was shouting so they could be heard over the music. Fairy lights shone in the trees surrounding the pool and candles lined a paved area.

  My first party. I’d been to many gatherings and functions, but they’d been very different from this. They’d been civilized events organized to celebrate some victory. There was no standing around the pool in skimpy clothing, no giggling, no relaxed atmosphere, no fun. Fun had definitely not been the purpose of those events.

  This would be my last party too. It was Saturday night. Tomorrow would be my last chance to execute my mission – if I could do it – and in the early hours of Monday morning, I’d be leaving.

  Lauren dropped her backpack outside the French doors. “Let’s get a drink.”

  She poured punch from a giant bowl on the table into two glasses and handed me one. I took a sip and tasted orange, a hint of pineapple, and more than a hint of something else. A warm glow filled my belly. Curious, I took several more sips, then identified the mystery ingredient. Alcohol.

  I leaned closer to Lauren. “The punch is contaminated.”

  She glanced across at the large bowl. “Contaminated? Did someone spit in it? That happened at Oliver’s party. Boys can be so gross.”

  I put my glass down on the table. “There’s alcohol in it.”

  Her lips curled up at the corners as she took a sip. “Are you shitting me?”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  She spluttered and covered her mouth. “Honestly, Nicola, which planet are you from? You’re hilarious.”

  Clearly, Lauren had known all along that the punch contained alcohol. If anything, she’d been expecting it, whereas I hadn’t because I was from that other planet she was referring to.

  “I’m not laughing,” I said.

  She put her arm around my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Of course I’m going to poke fun at you. I’m your best friend. You can rib me too if you like. It’s what friends do.”

  I had a best friend. How had that happened? I jabbed my finger gently into Lauren’s ribs and she let go of me.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Ribs, poke. Get it?”

  “Very funny. You don’t mind about the alcohol, do you? It’s not against your religion or anything, is it?”

  “No.” Looking around, I had to think quickly. “I
’m allergic to it. A few sips is okay but more than that and I have a reaction.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lauren said. “I didn’t know. I won’t offer you anything from my backpack later on, then.”

  So that was why she’d brought the large bag this evening. She had a stash of alcohol in there. No wonder it was so heavy.

  “Let’s mingle,” she said.

  Ben stood at the far end of the pool talking to Simone and Taylor. A small pang of jealousy shot through me, something I shouldn’t be feeling. I decided it’d be better to survey the area and get my bearings first before mingling in Ben’s direction.

  Not surprisingly, Lauren headed straight for Simone and Taylor.

  I went the other way, meandering slowly toward the edge of the garden to stay on the periphery for a better view. A girl I recognized from English class stood swaying to one side, her hand over her mouth, her eyes glazed. Even to my inexperienced eye, she appeared drunk. Charlene, no Charlotte. Moose had his arm around her, practically holding her up, yet something about his posture and expression told me he wasn’t being helpful.

  Suddenly, Charlotte’s face went white and she pushed him aside, rushing down a side path. Moose followed.

  Still standing up straight, Charlotte opened her mouth and a column of vomit expelled itself from her body, going straight out on the horizontal before falling onto the flowerbed lining the path. Projectile vomit. Truly spectacular.

  Moose stepped up from behind, his hands wandering over her body.

  Charlotte tried to push him away. “What are you doing?”

  Moose nuzzled his face into her neck, whispering something. The huge hands on her waist crept higher.

  “G-go away,” she said. “I don’t feel well.”

  More whispering from Moose, more nuzzling

  I strode down the side path and reached for Charlotte. “Here, let me give you a hand.”

  Moose straightened. “We don’t need your help.”

  Charlotte looked my way. “Yes, help.”

  “Nicola, this is nothing to do with you,” Moose said.

  “M-Moose, get away,” Charlotte mumbled.

  “You heard her,” I said. “She wants you to leave.”