Ben was sitting on the front lawn with his arm around poor drunk Daniel, probably holding him up. A Volvo station wagon pulled up nearby and a skinny Asian man, presumably Daniel’s father, rushed out and shook hands with Ben before helping his son up. Ben stood with his back to me as the car pulled away.
People were scattered on the front lawn, a couple lying down as if it were all too much for them, others standing around. Shoulders hunched, Ben’s body language said it was all too much for him too. He kicked a rock on the pavement and watched it roll down the street.
In the direction of Moose and Bulldog.
I didn’t know where they’d been, only that they were storming toward Ben, scowls on their faces as they passed under a streetlight. Probably pissed because Ben had helped the drunk kid, angry because of what I’d started. That was how they’d think of it.
Instinct. My eyes glued to the trouble ahead, I stepped off the porch and down the front path.
Moose and Bulldog stood in front of Ben on the pavement, two gunslingers ready for a showdown. Ben stepped back to let them pass. Moose shoved him in the chest.
I wanted to step in and pummel that bully. I wanted to teach him a lesson. I wanted to keep Ben safe.
But it wasn’t the right time and this wasn’t my fight.
Moose stabbed Ben’s chest with his finger. “What is it with you and that bitch girlfriend of yours?”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Ben muttered.
The kids standing on the lawn gathered closer. There was nothing like the prospect of a fight to get them interested. I pushed to the front, ready.
Moose slapped Ben gently on the face, teasing rather than hurting him. “Are you scared, is that it?”
He swatted Moose’s hand away. “I don’t want to fight, that’s all. I’ve got better things to do.”
Ben was too kind, much more generous than me. I could see where this was headed. Moose wanted to fight.
He put one hand on Ben’s face, then held his other fist high as if preparing to hit him in the face. Ben put his hands up in a defensive position. Still trying to talk his way out of it, trying to avoid a fight.
I stepped forward, ready to belt the crap out of anyone who laid a hand on Ben, and felt a hand on my arm, someone holding me back. I should leave this to Ben. He wasn’t defenseless and if he didn’t want to fight, that was his decision. I’d only make things worse.
Ben’s eyes were on Moose. He didn’t see what was coming as Bulldog came at him from the side with a big body shot. Ben doubled over, the air knocked out of him.
Moose and Bulldog stood there grinning and admiring their handiwork while Ben straightened and collected himself.
Bam! Ben sent a big right hand into the middle of Bulldog’s face. The strike came out of nowhere. Hit Bulldog smack on the button. Blood sprayed from his nose. His hands flew to his face as he fell back onto a garden bed.
A couple of guys near me clapped. A car screeched around the corner, a silver convertible, a flash of blond hair in the driver’s seat.
“Hey, that’ll be Rex with the beer,” someone yelled.
“On with the show,” said another.
Moose shunted Ben causing him to lose his balance, then pushed him again. Onto the road this time.
And all I could think was that Ben should have got in first and hit him sooner. Time for me to step in.
I saw it as if in slow motion. The silver convertible speeding up, Moose winding up for a big punch, Ben without his balance.
Ben who’d been too nice.
Ben who should’ve hit him sooner.
Moose’s fist landed on Ben’s jaw. The punch sent him staggering back into the middle of the road, stunned. He didn’t know where he was or what he was doing.
I stepped forward.
The rumble of the car engine filled the air.
Behind me, a girl shrieked.
In front of me, Ben stumbled back.
Straight into the path of the car.
Chapter Thirty
No thought, only action.
I leapt across the pavement and shunted Moose out of the way. Ben seemed so far away.
“NOOO.” A primal cry.
I launched myself into the air.
Threw myself at him.
Tires screeched.
Thud. My shoulder landed on Ben’s waist. Whoosh. We flew through the air. Thwack. My foot smashed against something. The car?
I landed on Ben. The air left my body. Then he was on top of me. We’d rolled.
I was sitting up. Didn’t know how I’d got that way. Ben was splayed beside me, on his back on the asphalt.
Was he okay? Please let him be all right.
My mouth open, I wanted to speak but I was choking and the words wouldn’t come out.
Ben moaned, such a wonderful sound. He was alive.
In the background, I heard a car engine being switched off, voices shouting, car doors slamming. What were all these people doing? Where had they come from?
Two big guys helped Ben sit up. He slapped them away, insisted he was fine.
A hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay, Nicola?” someone asked.
I nodded.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins, so thick I could feel it. I didn’t feel pain now. Didn’t feel anything. Give it another hour and I would.
Ben lifted his gaze to meet mine. He’d never looked as good as he did at that moment. Dark hair hung over green eyes that glimmered with gratitude, eyes that were only for me. Lips parted, he was breathing heavily.
Breathing…
It was as much as I could’ve asked for.
He stood, held both my hands in his and helped me up, staring into my eyes as though I were the most magical thing he’d ever seen. He made me feel special, wanted, desired. He made me feel a lot of things.
Ben slipped his hands onto my waist and wrapped his arms around me. He covered my mouth with his and spun me around, twirling me through the air as if I weighed nothing.
A huge cheer erupted from the crowd.
He kissed me harder. Eventually, he put me down, still gazing into my eyes. No words. We didn’t need them, not yet.
This was why I lived.
For moments like these.
Ben took my hand and I became increasingly aware of the people around me.
“I tried to stop. I’m so sorry.” Rex’s voice.
Ben waved to him as if all was forgiven.
A girl shoved Rex in the shoulder. “You’re a freaking idiot.”
Maybe he was. We didn’t care.
“It’s all your fault, Rex.” Moose’s voice stopped me in my tracks. “You were too drunk to drive. You didn’t see what was right in front of you.”
Still buzzing from the excitement, I slipped my hand out of Ben’s and turned. A few people stood between me and Moose. They stepped out of the way, parting like the Red Sea. Fury rose in my stomach.
Moose was so close.
And I wanted to hit him so bad.
“I’m sorry,” Moose said, panic in his voice.
Suddenly, my fist landed on the middle of his face. Moose staggered back. Two guys behind caught him. He winced, panting with short breaths, his hand covering one eye.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “I deserved that.”
“Now you’re sorry,” I said.
Another cheer from the friends surrounding us. These people sure liked a show.
Ben took my hand. It felt right. This felt right. I’d found a place where I fit, people who made me happy, a guy who wanted me again. What more could I ask for? Okay, my life wasn’t perfect but it was mine. For now. For as long as it lasted.
A murmur went through the crowd. It sent a shiver up my spine. Something was up. I could feel it in the air.
“Who are those people coming up the street?” A voice from around me. “Where’d they come from?”
“They’re coming from the other way, too.” Another voice.
I looked up the street. Gatecra
shers. A gang of about fifty kids was swaggering toward us on foot down the middle of the road. The boys in the front pointed and gesticulated as they walked. The sound of breaking glass shattered the air as someone smashed a bottle on the pavement. A couple of them laughed. One made a monkey sound. They were boozed up and ready.
It was easy to work out what would happen. These guys had heard about the party one way or another and were here to join in, regardless of the fact they weren’t invited or wanted. We were in for a fight, a scuffle at the very least.
Behind them, I saw the short haircuts and dark uniforms of local police officers. Lots of them.
I turned the other way to see a mirror image. It was the same thing, a gang of kids about our age with a gang of police officers behind them.
Caging us in from both sides.
What were the police doing here? How could they know there was going to be trouble before anything happened?
A feeling of dread weighed in my stomach. The officers weren’t here to help. They were herding the gatecrashers toward us, giving them nowhere to go, leading cattle to slaughter.
I pulled Ben back from the crowd so we were on the front lawn. I had to do something, and fast.
Lauren was beside me. “What’s going on?”
In front of us, there was a scuffle and some pushing and shoving with the Altabena High boys refusing to let the newcomers pass. Nothing major yet. On the outskirts of the crowd, the police loomed.
One thing I knew from my training was that people would do nothing unless you singled them out and gave them specific instructions.
Someone had to take control.
“Listen to me,” I said to Lauren. “Get Simone and Taylor. Your job is to record everything that’s going on. Use your phones. If the police hurt anybody, film it, and send it to Lorenzo. Tell him to get it out there, post it online, put it on PeoplePlace, VideoTube, whatever. He’ll know what to do.”
We might not be able to stop the gatecrashers and definitely wouldn’t be able to fight the police, but we could let the rest of the world know what was going on. The media and the internet were our only defense regardless of whether it was too little too late.
Even on a Saturday night, people checked their phones and PeoplePlace regularly. If there was police brutality, serious drama and things got out of hand, word would get out in minutes. Lorenzo knew how this stuff worked. He’d be dying to help.
In an hour, the news would be everywhere, going viral. It might be another twelve hours before it hit the newspapers, television broadcasts and traditional media but when it hit, it’d be big-time. What would happen after that, I didn’t know.
Lauren nodded and turned to talk to the other two girls standing on the porch behind us.
I looked at Ben. “Get the guys from martial arts. Tell them not to let the gatecrashers into the house or down the side path.”
“Okay.” He acted quickly.
I grabbed two boys I knew vaguely from English class. “Get everyone inside the house. After that, lock the back doors.”
They looked at me blankly.
“Just do it,” I said.
Startled, they jumped and did as they were told.
They had their work cut out for them. The girls who were out here would doubtless head inside but the boys were pumped full of testosterone and itching for some action. They didn’t know what they were in for.
At the edge of the crowd, the cops were shoving the gatecrashers forward. The kids at the back were complaining. The ones at the front were raising their fists.
The first punch was thrown. That was it, a free-for-all. In front of me, two gatecrashers tackled two Altabena High boys, fists flying.
At the rear, the police yelled and swung their batons, smashing their way through the crowd. I looked to my right. One of the gatecrashers tried to get out of the way of the police. A cop lashed out at him with his baton, across the leg, the ribs, then his shoulders as the boy crumpled to the ground. The cop next to him did the same.
Were Lauren and the other girls capturing this on video? Would it make any difference? I didn’t know. I only knew this was out of control.
How could this be happening? These men were police. They were supposed to uphold the law, not beat unarmed people.
A gunshot rang through the air. Then another. How could I keep these people safe?
A fist came out of nowhere. It brushed against the side of my head, the boy who’d thrown it lunging forward. I slammed my elbow into his face. He staggered back. His hand over one eye, blood dripped through his fingers.
I looked in the other direction. Saw the same thing. The cops were beating up anyone in their way. Getting closer.
Suddenly, a police officer was on the other side of me. An Altabena boy had his hands out, backing away from the man. The cop slammed his baton against the boy’s legs. He screamed. Dropped to the ground.
The cop raised his baton again. I jumped between the two of them, a human shield.
“Enough,” I yelled.
The cop’s mouth twitched and he sneered, his arm held high before he lowered it to his side.
“Bitch,” he muttered.
Out of nowhere, I saw a blur of fuzzy bleached hair and a fist slamming into the policeman’s face. The guy with the bad regrowth was grinning, the cop on the ground. Where the hell had he come from?
Lauren was on the porch with the other girls, phones in hand, all of them filming, for all the good it would do.
Not far from me, an officer whacked a defenseless girl with his baton. She screamed and cowered.
Enough.
Fury burned in my gut and surged through my body. I slammed my fists into the policeman’s face. Smash. He didn’t know what had hit him. I grabbed him around the back of the neck, yanked his head down and sent my knees into his gut. He retched.
I let go and staggered back, looking around, trying to work out what to do. I got punched in the face again so I hit back, well aware I was lucky because the boys were copping it a lot worse than the girls. Then I pushed my way through the crowd though I had no idea where I was going.
Suddenly Ben grabbed my arm. “I’ve got you. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
We were on the street at the edge of the crowd. The fighting had died down. Beside us, two girls were hunched over, crying. Other kids had dropped to the ground, beaten. The police were hauling others off into vans further down the street.
“Let’s go,” Ben said.
“No.”
He yanked me along. “We’ve got two choices, Nic. We run, or we stay and get arrested.”
When he put it that way, running didn’t sound like such a bad idea. I followed him as we skirted around the front of a police van while officers at the other end threw people into the back. I couldn’t tell if they were Altabena boys or gatecrashers.
Clear space ahead of us.
We ran.
I didn’t know what was right or wrong any more, only that we wouldn’t achieve anything by staying.
We’d done our best.
And I didn’t have much time left.
Chapter Thirty-One
Was this life? Was this what it was supposed to be like?
Because it didn’t seem real. The seconds when I’d thrown myself in front a car flashed before my eyes, then the moment Ben kissed me, the moment I’d won him back. Then the riot afterwards.
Ben held my hand, leading me forward toward Lake Altabena. I’d have followed him anywhere.
We slowed down as we walked across a grassed area dotted with trees. A playground lay between us and the lake shimmering in the distance. It was so quiet here that the party and the events of this evening seemed a world away.
This was another world. It wasn’t the place where I’d grown up. To the people who lived here, these surroundings probably didn’t seem special but for me, they held everything I wanted.
As we neared the playground, a smile lit up my face and I slipped my hand out of Ben’s. I’d seen pict
ures and footage in old movies but had never had the chance to play on one. A swing.
In New Nation only very small children were allowed to use play equipment for their physical development, then they quickly progressed to obstacle courses and more serious training. If I’d been on a swing as a toddler, it wasn’t something I could remember.
I could be a kid again, or maybe for the first time.
My hands on the metal chain, I sat back on the swing, pushed my legs ahead and swung through the crisp night air. I felt free, the cool air swishing past my body as I flew through the air.
How high could I go? How far until the laws of physics let me down and allowed me to fall? Higher, higher.
“Slow down, Nic,” Ben said.
He was sitting on the swing next to mine. Maybe I’d never have the chance to use a swing again. That was okay. I’d done it once. I scraped my feet on the ground to slow the swing and came to a halt.
Ben stood, his phone in his hand. “You’ll want to see this.”
He crouched down to show me a video on the small screen of a police officer beating a scrawny guy with a baton, the footage clearly from tonight. Lauren and her friends had filmed it and sent it to Lorenzo who’d loaded it onto VideoTube.
A groan left my body. I hoped the guy was okay, that he was at least getting medical attention. By now, surely many of the people involved would’ve been taken either to the police station or hospital and parents would have been called.
“The worst thing is he’s not on his own,” I said. “He’s one of many.”
“I know.” Ben pointed to the screen on his phone. “Look at this.”
Five hundred hits. Already.
“This is only the beginning,” I said.
He nodded. “That’s right.”
This had been part of my plan all along, but I still couldn’t believe it was working.
“Tonight didn’t happen by accident,” I said.
“No, the cops were in on it from the start. What I can’t work out is why they should care. What’s in it for them?”
“They’re doing what they’re told.”
The government – and maybe even State Ruler Bartley himself – wanted to enforce a curfew, to erode our rights, to get control of us any way they could.
Infiltration (Infiltration Book 1) Page 20