Fallout

by S D Wasley

  “Yeah, of course. Sorry.” Awkward silence. “Okay, I’m going home now. See you tomorrow.”

  I descended the ladder into the underground chamber. Cain sat alone on his sofa, smoking. He ground out the cigarette when he saw me and opened his arms. I sank into them, feeling okay for the first time that day.

  “What happened with Nadine and Owen?” I asked.

  “Nadine didn’t even contact me. Owen messaged to say he couldn’t make it tonight. But I don’t know, maybe he’s gone, too.” Cain looked at the ceiling, face showing his pain despite his effort to conceal it. “Jude and Liz insisted on going to talk to them.”

  I curled myself close, aching for him, and rested my head on his chest. I didn’t want to add to his pain but had to tell him what I’d found out that day.

  “I have bad news. The woman at the kiosk told me something―” I didn’t even need to continue. Cain already knew what I was going to say.

  “They came back, didn’t they?” he said, his shoulders slumping. “The kids tried to steal from the kiosk again and one got hurt?”

  I nodded. “Hit by a car.”

  He extricated himself from my arms and jumped up, pacing back and forth in agitation. “Fuck. I hoped Léon’s stunt really worked but I had this bad feeling.” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit. Those kids seemed so ... awe inspired. I thought maybe he was right and they would listen, be impressed enough not to try again. I kept thinking that if someone had intervened like that with me, when I was a kid, maybe I wouldn’t have been such a loser. God, this is my fault,” he finished with a groan.

  “Stop that,” I said. “Of course it isn’t. You did everything you could. We all messed this up but if anyone should feel bad it’s Léon.” I tried not to think about the anguish of the boy’s family as he lay in hospital, possibly brain damaged or close to death. I wanted to be the strong one here. I jumped up and hugged him hard, concealing my wet eyes against his shoulder. He pulled me into one of his semi-painful embraces and we didn’t speak for a while but returned to the sofa to sit close, taking comfort from one another.

  “What happened today?” he asked.

  I told him about meeting Léon at Market Lake and the strange moment of visualisation I’d had while Léon was describing the boy in the fire scene. “I’ve had something like that happen before, when I’ve been listening to the visions. A feeling like I can almost see what’s being described. But what happened today was beyond that feeling. I was right there. I could feel the little boy’s skin and hair, the heat of the fire, smell the smoke and hear the flames.”

  “None of us has ever had visions like that,” he said. “Maybe yours are different because―” He stopped.

  “Because I’m one of Léon’s group?” I asked in a small voice.

  He remained silent, staring at the ground, a muscle working in his jaw. I tried again.

  “Cain. It is what it is. He saw my face and yes, that means something, but I’m with you.”

  “I know. I’m trying to be cool about all this, I promise I am.” He gave me a quick glance before looking back at the floor. “It’s rough. It feels like a punishment.”

  “For your past? You do realise the stuff you told me about what you used to be like had no impact at all on how I feel, right?”

  “How could it not?” His voice was low but I detected bitterness.

  “People have pasts. I’m not going to judge you on it.”

  Again, no reply. If anything, his face hardened and I detected a faint shake of his head. “I want ...” I waved my hands helplessly, “I want this. You.”

  “You want to be with an ex-junkie who lives in a trailer and can’t even get his shit together to take you out on a date?”

  I lost my temper, pulling away. “I was never worried about going on a date! That was Albion’s idea, not mine. You’re the one who’s getting obsessed with it. Of course we don’t date right now. There’s more important stuff for us to do.” I glared at Cain, sitting there looking hopeless, his eyes downcast. “Why is it so damn difficult for you to believe I want you and not him?”

  “You wanna know why?” All of a sudden Cain looked as angry as me. “Because he turned up here looking for you, actually looking for you. I recognised it as soon you told me he was your protector. I think back now, and I know that feeling he wore on his face when he first saw you. The recognition and connection. I saw it happen. And then, right under my nose, he starts taking you places, arranging to meet. Wooing you. He’s got this bond with you I can never share. He’s your protector. He saw your face. Fuck, you even share a faith. And I’m stuck hanging onto you by a thread while he’s got all these amazing connections to you and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it!”

  “None of it matters―”

  “Of course it matters! Jude brought you here into our group. You didn’t belong here but I knew I had to find a way to get you to stay anyway because I couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving, and then when we finally had it all sorted out Léon turns up ... and I find out he’s the one you’re supposed to be with.”

  The way Cain hissed ‘he’ between his teeth alarmed me. I didn’t reply at all this time. There was no point while everything I said just upset him more. It bothered me that he didn’t trust my love but these circumstances were so far outside the realm of normal that I kind of understood. It wasn’t petty jealousy. My connection with Léon was big. That feeling of being inexorably linked to Léon―that repeated tug at my heart―it meant something. And Cain knew exactly how powerful it was because he had it with the members of his group. Exhaustion washed over me again and I dragged my hand through my hair, bewildered as to what to do next.

  “Did you sleep?” His voice was softer now.

  “What?”

  “This afternoon,” he said, “when you got home.”

  “Yes. I had a hard time waking up.”

  “The visions do that to you. Acting on them is even worse. Are you still tired?”

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  “Did you eat?”

  “No, I was too tired.” I gave a half-hearted laugh.

  Cain went to fetch me snacks and a drink from the cooler room. “Here. Sports drinks are best but this will do.” He handed me a lemon flavoured soda. “And roasted cashews. Plenty of protein, salt, and fat to replenish you.” He offered me a half-smile.

  “Thanks.”

  He sat next to me and picked up the ledger, flicking to the most recent page. There he wrote the details I’d recounted from my vision and I told him a couple of extra points while I ate and drank. There were notes on Helen’s visions from tonight as well. Feeling much better after my feast I read them, scolding myself for getting jealous of Helen earlier. The girl was harmless―simply an enthusiastic member of Cain’s group―and I needed to get over my stupid insecurity.

  A lit-up building at night or early evening. Very busy. Historical, a stately old house with lots of windows. But brightly lit as though in modern times. Girl with red dress arriving at the party with her family, all dressed up. A few siblings―big family. Parents walk up steps to house and kids lag behind, talking together.

  The second was briefer but somehow more chilling.

  Boy watching man light candle. Holding red box in hand.

  Children. Boys and girls. Our visions were full of them at the moment. God, I was still so tired. I grew heavy-lidded again and when Cain noticed he lay back and pulled me down so I was resting in his arms.

  “Sleep,” he told me.

  I slept. I didn’t have the hands dream this time but I did dream, or perhaps it was a memory of some whispered words.

  “Francesca. Please stay.”

  ****

  “Chromium poisoning.”

  I stared at Uncle Max and he nodded. “That’s exactly the face I had when I saw the lab results, bella,” he said with a sad little chuckle. “That was why we didn’t get any results trying to grow cultures. We certainly weren’t looking for heavy meta
l contamination.”

  “But what caused it?” Vanessa asked.

  “That we don’t know. Chromium six is used in the tanning process so it seems like the development work at the tannery might have stirred something up. Perhaps some tainted soil got into the town’s water supply.”

  “Has it cleared yet or have more people turned up with poisoning?” Albion wanted to know.

  “It seems to have cleared but it’s made me think about some long term patients I have with peculiarly similar kidney and liver problems. I wonder if there’s a source somewhere.”

  I frowned. “Is one of them Helen Niven’s mum?”

  Uncle Max nodded. “You know Susan Niven?”

  “Her daughter’s told me about her illness.” I shook my head. “But heavy metal poisoning ... that’s unbelievable. At least now you know what’s making Mrs Niven sick though. Right?”

  “We don’t know if that’s what’s caused it but we’re going to conduct testing for chromium and see if it’s contributed. There are five very similar cases amongst my patients alone in the past few years. One man died of acute kidney failure, in fact. We discussed the cases in the medical community and agreed it was likely to be linked to long-term exposure to farming chemicals but this chromium business puts a whole new slant on it.”

  “And can you help her, if that’s what it is?”

  Uncle Max became cautious, stroking his moustache. “At least we can stop her from being further contaminated if we find the source, which will slow the progress of her disease. Please don’t mention this to the daughter yet, bella. I need to complete all the testing first.”

  To me, the short answer looked like no. Perhaps Helen’s mother was too far gone. Uncle Max got distracted by one of his cousins asking for the olive oil and went to assist in the kitchen. Albion refilled Vanessa’s wine glass and offered the bottle to me but I declined. I’d be driving to Gaunt House soon.

  “Shit, eh?” he said. “I can’t believe you had chromium poisoning, Frankie-boo. Jesus, it’s lucky you haven’t died a couple of times already this year. Augur’s Well ain’t a safe haven for you.”

  “Do not go back to that coffee shop again, Frankie,” Vanessa said, eyes wide.

  “It wasn’t only people from the coffee shop, Ness,” Albion told her. “It must have been in the town’s water supply. Maybe some places got more tainted water than others.”

  “I won’t be going there again, anyway,” I said, “and Marie-Celeste opens this week. No more bad coffee in Augur’s Well.”

  “I had my barista training today.” A worried look crossed Vanessa’s face. “It’s much harder than I thought.”

  “Ethan will look after you,” Albion assured her. “I’ll kick his ass if he doesn’t. Now, Frankie.” He turned to me. “I hate to pin you down but would you please confirm whether or not you’re coming to this damn grand opening?”

  “What do I have to do and when?” I asked with a sigh.

  “All you have to do is show up, you know, to support your sister in her new job, not to mention your friend Ethan, the head chef, who happens to be your cousin’s boyfriend.”

  I winced. “I’m going. I never said I wasn’t. When and for how long?”

  Vanessa gave a chuckle. “You sound so enthusiastic, Frankie.”

  “Thursday night. Six till nine-ish, but celebration drinks after for the staff and their special guests.” He winked.

  I figured I could make an appearance at this opening party for Vanessa’s sake and then take off to see Cain by seven. “I’ll come for a while.”

  I dutifully ate Uncle Max’s pasta and got out of there. My plan was to talk to Jude and Liz tonight, to ask if they’d spoken to Owen and Nadine, and knew what the hell they were thinking. But it was only Cain’s bike and Helen’s car there, yet again. I frowned to myself, thinking of Helen in there alone with him, recounting her mystical visions in that soft voice, her pretty, mild face looking up at him, full of admiration while he wrote notes. Jealousy gushed upward inside me, lava-like, as I remembered his handwriting in the ledger, transcribing Helen’s visions the last time they were alone together and―

  The sound of murmurs in an echoing hall, a priest touches a lit match to a white candle. The boy, that small boy with olive skin, close-shorn hair and bright blue eyes, he watches the older priest avidly, ignored. He looks down at his hand. He is holding a red box, rectangular in shape. Matches. The priest has handed him the matches and forgotten about them.

  I blinked, swaying in the darkness, and had to grip the ‘Unsafe Structure’ signpost so I wouldn’t fall. My thoughts went crazy, flying around in that hurricane of images and sounds again, but right through the middle of it cut one word in my father’s best solemn stage voice. Quickening.

  Chapter 11: Novus

  The trapdoor burst open and Cain appeared, crossing the rubble in record time to seize my arms. He examined my face.

  “What happened?”

  “I saw something,” I said. I didn’t want to use the word vision. I stared at him, bewildered. “How did you know something was wrong?”

  “You called out!”

  Helen’s head popped up through the trapdoor behind him. She emerged, pausing to make an adjustment to her leg, and came toward us.

  “Are you okay?” She was frowning. “What happened?”

  “Francesca had a vision,” he told her.

  “How did you even know she was up here?” she asked, staring at us both.

  “She called―didn’t you hear? Help me get her down the ladder.”

  That was a circus. With her prosthetic leg threatening to come loose on the way down, Helen really couldn’t do much to help. She waited at the bottom with her arms out as though she could catch me if I fell. I gripped the rungs, hoping I wouldn’t fumble and end up flattening her. But she thought to use her phone as a flashlight so I could at least make it safely into the chamber. Cain closed the door behind us and ushered me to the sofa.

  “This is stupid,” I said. “Pathetic! None of you ever get weak like this when you have visions.” I gave Helen a hopeful glance. “Do you?”

  She twisted her mouth, thinking. “Not really. Sometimes I get a feeling like I need to sit down for a couple of minutes or have a cup of tea. But that’s it.”

  “Why is this happening?” I asked Cain.

  He shook his head anxiously.

  “You must have great hearing,” Helen told him. “I didn’t hear a thing when Frankie called for help.”

  “I don’t think I did call out,” I said, taking a sip from the drink can Cain handed me.

  He snapped his head around to look at me. “Of course you did. You screamed out for me, clear as anything.”

  “What did I say?”

  His brow furrowed. “Uh ... I don’t know, just help, or something like that.”

  Helen gave a tiny shrug when I checked with her. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. “Cain, that’s the third time you’ve responded to my needing help without me actually telling you I needed help.” He opened his mouth to argue so I held out my hand. “Give me your phone.”

  He did so and I scrolled to find his messages from me. To my dismay I noticed a message from Helen that included the words love and soon and a kissy x. I tried to focus on what I was doing.

  “Look. Nothing from me both those times you thought I’d messaged you.”

  “No, that’s not right,” he said, taking his phone back. He scrolled through, his frown deepening. “That’s weird. My phone must be deleting messages or something.”

  “No.” I pulled out my own phone and brought up the draft message I’d tapped out to him two days earlier. I showed him. “Look. I never sent it.”

  His eyes widened with shock. “How did you ...?”

  I laughed. “Me? How did you?”

  He thought about it and gave me a quick grin. “Now this is a gift I can appreciate. The Francesca-needs-me radar.”

  Helen interrupted. “Frankie, what was your visio
n?”

  “Where are Jude and Liz? Maybe I should wait till they get here.”

  Cain looked away. “They decided to go and try Nadine and Owen again. I keep telling them it’s too late. They’ve gone. They joined him.”

  “It shouldn’t be like this. Like factions.” I took another sip of soda, trying to steady my wobbly hand. The exhaustion hit me again and this time it meant business. I sagged back on the sofa. “I wish Léon would just leave.”

  “How can you say that?” Helen stared at me in astonishment. “He’s your protector.”

  Cain must have told them about Léon seeing my face, after all. I didn’t like that. I felt like the enemy, a member of a rival group. That must be what she thought: now I’d been found by Léon, my allegiance would automatically shift to him.

  I kept my voice as calm as possible. “Helen, I thought Léon was a good person at first but I’ve realised the guy’s a loose cannon. He made a move that cost a little boy his future, just to try and prove himself superior to us. I don’t care if he’s my protector, or whatever. He’s making big mistakes that are hurting people.”

  “Talk to him,” she urged. “He cares for you. He’ll listen.”

  “Well, I don’t care for him!” I snapped.

  “Hey.” Cain attempted to intervene. “Francesca, Helen’s new to all this, too.”

  I was momentarily wild with fury, although I didn’t understand where the feeling had come from. The room swam as though the intensity of my emotions had also upset my physical equilibrium. Then the door opened and Jude came in with Liz and, to my great relief, Owen.

  “What’s wrong, Frankie?” Jude asked. “Got your message.”

  My mouth fell open as the three gazed at me expectantly. Cain comprehended and recovered himself quicker than me. “Show me the message she sent.”

  Jude gave a puzzled quirk of his eyebrow but opened his phone and searched. His frown deepened. “I must have deleted it. She said she needed help.”

  “Oh, my ... gosh.” Helen’s eyes were enormous.