Extracted Trilogy (Book 2): Executed

by R. R. Haywood

  Miri stiffens. Her face hardening. Ben sees the flash of pain in her eyes, fleeting and quick, but real. Then it’s gone and the mask is once more set in place.

  ‘My mum died protecting me and Bertie . . . my brother . . .’

  ‘That’s brave.’

  ‘She was so scared. The look on her face . . . She was cold . . . She tried stopping them . . .’

  ‘Them?’

  ‘Be ready to move,’ Miri murmurs.

  ‘Some men . . . They came into our house . . .’

  ‘Like a home invasion?’

  ‘Er, yes. Yes, like that. Me and Bertie got out, but . . .’

  ‘Your daddy?’

  ‘He ran away,’ Ria says softly, weakly, ‘left us . . . He’s a coward. Those people you saw in the bar?’

  ‘Careful, Ria,’ Ben mutters.

  ‘They were there, they helped . . . They were so brave . . . They didn’t run . . . They . . .’ She breaks off to sob quietly. ‘They . . . they would have died for Bertie . . .’

  ‘And you,’ Derek says.

  ‘No,’ Ria says with kind sorrow in her voice. ‘My brother is special . . .’

  ‘Can’t we get her mum out?’ Ben asks.

  ‘You know we can’t.’

  ‘Can’t we go in after? Take, like, a second to pull her out.’

  A blink of an eye. Every situation offers opportunities to plant seeds. If she wins Ben, she wins the team, and she needs all of them to win the game.

  ‘I admire your morals and honour, Mr Ryder, but it cannot be done.’ She pauses for effect. ‘The British government will torture the mother if she survives, and all of Bertie’s friends, and all of Ria’s friends and everyone that ever knew them. If they don’t, the Russians will, or the Chinese, or the Americans . . .’

  ‘If the mother survives, we can take her,’ Ben says.

  ‘This is the level we are at, Ben. We must do whatever it takes. We cannot use the device to go forward past the attack on the house to see the world or how it lies because time is not fixed and it does not matter what happens, but only what we make happen. Do you see? I need you to see. The only thing of importance now is what we do.’

  Ben listens to Miri. He listens to Ria crying and Derek giving what words of comfort he can find which right now is better than possibly anyone else in the world. The view of it all opens, and for a brief second the isolated life they have in the bunker vanishes.

  ‘How do you make a government stop?’ Miri asks, staring at him.

  Ben goes to answer, then stops with the surreal notion of such a strange rhetorical question.

  ‘Listen, you’re a lovely boy, but I want to go home now.’

  ‘Sure, yeah, sure, Ria. I’ll walk you home.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. Honestly.’

  ‘It’s not safe here. I’ll walk you back . . . Hey, you got money. I’ll call a cab.’

  ‘Honestly, it’s fine. I think my, er . . . well, the people at the bar, they’ll be nearby . . . Miri will be anyway.’

  ‘Miri?’

  ‘The older lady. She’s amazing. Like, so cold and brutal, but . . . She’ll be near here waiting.’

  ‘She’s smarter than we thought,’ Ben whispers.

  ‘Will I see you again? When do you go?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘I’d like to see you again. Can we email? You on Facebook? Hey, gimme your number and . . .’

  ‘I don’t have a phone. We lost it in the . . . the thing . . . and I haven’t replaced it yet.’

  ‘Oh, damn, I got an old phone. You want it?’

  ‘What’s your name? I’ll find you on Facebook.’

  ‘Derek Collins. Milwaukee. I finish work tomorrow at six if . . . you know . . .’

  ‘I’ll try. I’ll ask Miri if . . . maybe . . . We’ve got a lot to do, but I will try.’

  ‘You’d better say yes,’ Ben whispers, looking at Miri. ‘If you bloody don’t, I’ll tell her she can go.’

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Ria.’

  ‘No, your last name . . .’

  ‘Oh, er, gosh, sorry, had a bit to drink . . . Calshott. Ria Calshott.’

  Ben snorts a laugh. Miri deigns to twitch the corners of her lips.

  They listen to the kisses goodbye, which grow into heavy breathing and even heavier petting. Ben leans against the wall. Miri stares at the wall opposite.

  ‘You are so beautiful,’ Derek whispers.

  ‘You’re lovely too,’ Ria whispers back.

  Finally, they hear the door open, but then more kissing comes. The stairs creak. More kissing. They get to the ground floor inside the building and stop to kiss. They reach the street door and kiss. Ben hums to himself. Miri thinks forward to tomorrow and what she has to do.

  ‘Come see me tomorrow,’ Derek says as the street door finally opens.

  ‘I’ll try, promise . . .’

  Ria walks out and looks left, looks right, then goes back to kiss him again before pushing him back in the door and telling him to go to bed. She finally walks out across the road, peering round before spotting the mouth of the alley. She hesitates, as though unsure, then heads for it.

  ‘Miri?’

  ‘Here,’ Miri says, shutting the phone down and stepping out from the shadows.

  ‘Hey,’ Ben says, moving out.

  Ria looks at them, her face showing fleeting emotions one after the other.

  ‘We just wanted to make sure you were okay,’ Ben says. ‘Everything alright?’

  ‘Yep,’ Ria says simply. ‘He’s a nice man.’

  Ben nods. He wants to tell her Derek is a very nice man and that men like that don’t grow on trees, and that in actual fact he wants to walk over and shake his bloody hand for being such a decent human being. But he doesn’t. He smiles instead and walks out to offer his arm. ‘Walk you home, m’lady?’

  ‘Thanks,’ she says, smiling shyly, hesitant at looping her arm through his. He is Ben Ryder after all. ‘He asked my name,’ she says, taking his arm. ‘I said Ria Calshott. Was that okay? I said I lost my phone too . . .’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Ben says, leading her back behind Miri. ‘Absolutely fine. You want to see him again?’

  ‘Um, he, er . . . Well, he said he finishes work at six tomorrow, but I’ll ask Miri. I said we’re busy . . . but I didn’t say anything about the . . . the thing or . . . anything. I promise.’

  ‘Oh,’ Ben says, as though taking it all in and thinking. ‘Well, he seemed a good lad, you know, just from meeting him briefly in the bar. So, yeah, sure, why not? Maybe watch a movie or something with him. Do you good to get out of the bunker a bit.’

  ‘He is nice, and he has a huge . . .’

  Ben coughs, sudden and hard. Something caught in his throat.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Ria asks.

  ‘Yep,’ Ben gasps.

  ‘I was saying he has a huge old television . . .’

  Thirty-Three

  ‘Ben . . . you asleep?’

  He snaps awake at her voice pushing through the layers of sleep. Her tone is different; she sounds worried. He looks up to see her standing in the doorway to his room, bathed in a silvery glow of moonlight streaming through the windows. A screech outside. A thunderous roar from far off. An instant reminder of where he is in time and place.

  ‘Ben?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he whispers, gruff and deep from sleep. ‘What? What’s up?’

  She hesitates, not speaking. He can sense her nerves.

  ‘Safa? What’s up?’

  She goes to turn away, but stops and moves forward, then stands with her hands at her side, suddenly afraid and not knowing what to do. He rejected her before, but that was the old Ben. Not this Ben. Hearing Ria and Derek has played on her mind. Seeing Ria coming back so much calmer tonight, laughing and smiling softly. Still sad, still with tears in her eyes, but like the bad energy is gone. She thought what Ria did was wrong but right. Things are black and white to Safa. Anything in between is too difficult a
nd weird, so she shies away and puts the wall up and tells everyone to fuck off.

  Ben sits up, instantly worried. ‘Safa? You okay?’

  She moves fast, as though worried something will happen to stop her. She closes the door and crosses through the moonlight to his bed. ‘Budge over.’

  ‘Eh?’

  She doesn’t wait, but sinks down on to his mattress as he slides over to make room. She lies on her right side facing away from him. He stares. Too stunned to do or say anything.

  He swallows, blinks and starts easing himself down with the instant worry of what to do. She’s right there and only wearing a vest top and knickers.

  She turns to look up at him, the whites of her eyes so clear, the shape of them, the contours of her face. She saw a picture of Steph tonight and hated it. She hated it with a passion. She hates that Ben had that connection. Like jealousy, but not jealousy. She doesn’t know what it is, only that she didn’t like it.

  ‘Lie down,’ she whispers, her voice strange in both their ears.

  He lowers slowly, taking care that his groin does not touch her backside. His right arm goes under the pillow. His heart thunders.

  ‘Safa . . . are you okay?’

  ‘Fuck’s sake, hold me.’ She tries to sound like Safa, bossy and hard, but it comes out soft and asking instead of telling. She turns again, blinking at him. ‘If you want to . . .’

  He moves to cocoon, sensing it is right, feeling it is right. His right arm moves under the pillow as she lifts her head so he can slide it under her. His left arm goes over. She moves back into him. Her heart whumping through her back so hard he can feel it. Her whole body trembling. The thought of Safa being scared makes him move closer, holding tighter. She curls up and moves back. He moves forward and lowers his head so his mouth is but a millimetre from the top of her head hardly believing this is happening.

  ‘We’re not having sex.’

  He smiles into the darkness at the blunt voice of the woman he adores so much. ‘Okay.’

  She winces at herself. Why did she say it like that? This is bliss, lying here. It’s so nice. He’s so warm and cuddly. Safa doesn’t do cuddling, but right now she loves cuddling.

  ‘I want to have sex . . . but . . . not now.’

  ‘Okay.’

  That’s even worse. Now she sounds like a cock-tease.

  ‘I’m not a cock-tease.’

  ‘I know.’

  Stop talking.

  ‘I did want sex that night I came in . . .’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Like loads . . .’

  Oh god, now she sounds too eager.

  ‘I’m glad we didn’t,’ he says.

  Why did he say that?

  ‘Me too.’ No, she’s not. She wishes they did have sex. ‘I did want to have sex, and I wish we did.’

  Oh, you twat.

  ‘Me too,’ he says.

  ‘But we can’t have sex now.’

  Stop fucking talking.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I want to have sex now.’

  ‘Er . . .’

  Now she’s confused him. Stop confusing him.

  ‘Am I confusing you?’

  ‘No. You’re Safa.’

  What does that mean?

  ‘I’m shit at this stuff, Ben.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘I never had friends before.’

  Oh my god. Why did she say that? Why isn’t he saying anything back?

  ‘Why aren’t you saying anything back?’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Not like a girlfriend. Like a girl who is a friend . . . Not a lesbian friend.’

  Shut up.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I’m not homophobic. I meant I never had a mate, like a girl mate. Like Emily.’

  Seriously. Shut up.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Or a boyfriend.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I fancy you.’

  Don’t tell him that.

  ‘I fancy you too.’

  Yes! He fancies her.

  He moves position, re-adjusting to get closer, more comfortable. She pulls his hand in to her chest and realises the back of his hand is pushing against her left boob. Can he feel the nipple? What if he feels the nipple?

  ‘Can you feel my nipple?’

  Shut the fuck up. Please. For the love of god.

  ‘Er, no . . . No, I can’t.’

  What if the nipple gets hard? What if he gets an erection? What then?

  ‘Safa?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Stop worrying.’

  ‘Okay . . . but what if you get a hard-on or my nipple gets erect?’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  It’s fine. Ben said it’s fine.

  ‘Ben?’

  ‘Yep?’

  ‘Some cunting, fucking bastard sexually abused me . . . so . . . And, like, men always say how pretty my eyes are and try and fuck me, but I did want sex with you that night. And I want sex now and I fancy you and I’m horny, but I got worried and . . . And Ria did that tonight and it made me think and I saw that cunt Steph and . . . And I’ll never lie to you or anyone and I’ll never let anyone ever hurt you like that Steph did and I know I’m a fucking nightmare, but . . . Well, say something then, for fuck’s sake.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Okay? What does that mean? Just okay? What’s okay?’

  ‘I’m not the man who did that. You have friends now. You have Mad Harry Madden and me and Miri, and Emily likes you, and I will never lie to you. I won’t try and fuck you ever. Men don’t do that, Safa. Real men don’t do that. I won’t do that, and if you tell me who that man is, I will kill him, and if I don’t, then Harry will. You are gorgeous and I am willing myself not to get an erection and offend you, but if it happens, then it is because I adore you more than you could ever know, but on every level of you being you and not just because you have tits and nice eyes, so, yes, this is more than okay. You make everything okay.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Wow. He said all that.

  ‘Okay?’ he asks.

  ‘Okay.’

  Okay. It’s more than okay.

  ‘It’s more than okay. Sleep now.’

  ‘Okay, Safa.’

  ‘If you get an erection, it’s fine now.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘And if my nipple goes hard, then that’s also fine.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Night, Ben.’

  ‘Night. Safa.’

  ‘You can kiss my neck if you want.’

  Thirty-Four

  ‘Morning,’ Emily says, walking into the main room.

  ‘Morning,’ Safa replies, already eating at the table. ‘Coffee’s here.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Emily says cheerfully. Too cheerfully. She takes fruit from the bowl, grabs a plate and heads over to the table. ‘Another one?’ Emily asks, lifting the flask of coffee.

  ‘Cheers.’

  ‘You’re probably tired.’ Emily lowers the flask and peers at Safa, as though examining her. ‘I’m looking for a warm afterglow.’

  ‘Fuck’s sake,’ Safa says, shaking her head.

  ‘Got up for a wee in the night.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Your door was open.’

  ‘Was it?’

  ‘And your bed was empty, you hussy . . .’

  ‘Morning,’ Ben calls out, walking in with a brief wave. ‘Coffee on?’

  ‘Damn it,’ Emily mutters.

  ‘Flask here,’ Safa says.

  ‘Morning, Ben,’ Emily says.

  ‘Morning, Emily. You okay?’

  ‘Aye,’ Emily says deeply at seeing Harry walking in.

  ‘Aye,’ Harry says with a smile at her.

  ‘Coffee’s here,’ Safa says. ‘We’ll practise the house assault for the morning, then do marksman drills for you, Ben.’

  ‘Awesome,’ Ben says, taking two mugs from the big table over to Emily and Safa. ‘I spoke to Miri last night, while we were
waiting for Ria.’

  ‘Listening to her having sex, you mean,’ Safa says.

  ‘And that,’ Ben says, ignoring the edge to her voice.

  Safa pauses with the knife peeling the skin from the orange. Emily sits down. Harry comes over to lift the flask and start pouring.

  ‘Ria here yet?’ Ben asks.

  ‘Not yet,’ Emily says, glancing round to the door leading to the smaller corridor.

  ‘Miri said they’ll torture her mother if she’s taken alive, same with all their friends . . . everyone that ever knew them.’

  ‘They will,’ Emily says.

  Safa looks up, frowning slightly. ‘Can’t she just go forward and see.’

  ‘No point,’ Ben says. ‘Time isn’t fixed.’

  ‘Don’t get it,’ Safa says, peeling the fruit.

  Harry sits down and leans back, listening as he always does, intently and quietly.

  ‘If we go forward now and see what they’re doing after the house assault, we’ll see one thing,’ Ben says, ‘but what they do will change pending what we do. Miri’s got it into my head and it makes sense: we create the time now and make it bend to what we want.’

  ‘Bend? Bend what?’ Safa asks.

  ‘Not bend – bad word to explain,’ Ben says sitting down. ‘Miri said we have to stop a government, but . . . well, it’s not just one, is it? We’re dealing with more than one government. UK, US, Russia, China . . . Fuck knows who else . . .’

  ‘All of them,’ Emily says.

  ‘How?’ Safa asks. ‘There’s five of us, including Miri, and she’s not combat-ready.’

  ‘I’ll sit down with Miri tonight and go through it,’ he says thoughtfully.

  ‘Makes sense,’ Harry says.

  ‘What does?’ Ben asks him.

  ‘We have a time machine,’ Harry says simply. ‘They can’t have it. Controlled aggression. Best way. Bad things happen in war. You said the Yanks dropped a big bomb in Japan.’

  ‘Nuclear bomb,’ Ben says with a nod.

  ‘Ended the war?’

  ‘Certainly helped,’ Emily says while Ben thinks on the question.

  ‘Yanks dropped a big bomb and killed many, but saved more,’ Harry says. ‘That’s what war is.’

  ‘Guess so,’ Ben says with a smile. ‘At least we’re not planning that.’

  ‘Planning what?’ Harry asks.

  ‘Dropping a nuclear bomb on Roland’s house.’