Fallout

by S D Wasley

“I didn’t send a message,” I managed.

  “Of course you did.” Jude gave an uncertain laugh. “If you didn’t, who did?”

  Good question. Cain and I locked gazes, trying to work it out.

  “She definitely didn’t send a message,” Helen repeated slowly.

  “I heard it come through,” Liz objected. “Jude checked his phone and said Frankie needed help.” Owen nodded, backing her up.

  “You’ve ... you’ve tapped into us,” Cain said to me.

  “She looks different,” Owen said. He crossed the room to peer at me. “That’s weird.” He looked at Cain. “Is she transforming?”

  Cain pulled me in protectively. “I think so.”

  Helen looked flat out envious. “Shouldn’t she be with Léon at a time like this?”

  “Léon!” I exclaimed. “No!” But part of me resonated, humming like a bell struck with a gong, when she said his name. My protector.

  Cain couldn’t help a sideways glance at Owen at the mention of Léon. Owen made his face carefully blank and shrugged. “Hey. Sorry about last night. Things are weird.” Cain nodded, equally blank.

  “I don’t understand.” Liz sat on a mattress and stared at me. “How did you send the message?”

  “I didn’t. I seem to be ... making contact without meaning to.”

  Owen looked astounded. “Explain that.”

  “It’s been happening with Cain, too. He hears me call out or gets a message from me but there’s no actual call or message. I’m not doing it intentionally, either.”

  “It’s when she needs help,” Helen put in.

  Owen rubbed his short black hair and stared at the wall, lost in thought. “God, it’s so confusing. Just when I thought I understood our purpose this starts happening. And visions, too. Frankie.” He turned his sharp gaze onto me. “Tell me about your visions.”

  I denied they were visions but told him how I’d seen, felt, and heard the things both Léon and Helen had described. For a moment I hesitated but came clean about the previous instances, too. “I often felt kind of like I could see what you were describing, all of you. But I figured it was just the vivid way you described it. This is different though. A step up. It’s as though I’m immersed in the scene I’m hearing or thinking about. I don’t know what brings it on. There’s this little boy who seems to be at the centre of everything.”

  “What does he look like?” Helen’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp.

  “It’s not Patrick. An olive-skinned boy, blue eyes, hair close shorn.”

  “Oh, yes the boy I saw in my vision.”

  Owen scratched at his head again. “Léon told us about you helping him with his group’s problem. The boy and the fire.”

  “I haven’t been able to help, not yet.”

  Cain gave me a quizzical look when I said this and I remembered I’d never told him anything about helping Léon decipher his group’s premonitions. I had no excuses for this omission either, so I simply kept my arm tight around him, gripping his T-shirt at his waist. Owen clearly wanted to say something more but struggled to get the words out. After a moment he gave up.

  “Beer?” he asked, and when Cain nodded he went and fetched one each for himself and Cain. They cracked their cans and Owen sat heavily on a mattress, leaning against the sandstone wall.

  “I had a vision today,” Helen said in a soft voice.

  Liz fetched the ledger immediately. I got the vibe she wanted to make Helen feel needed. Helen lay back on her mattress and stared at the ceiling, her soft hair splayed out on the fabric around her head. “I think it was from the past. It was two women walking along a trail in the dark. One was pregnant. They looked tired. They had long dresses and they looked dirty. Greasy and kind of messed up, like they’d been working too hard. One had her hand wrapped in something yellow.”

  There was silence while Liz’s pen scratched. We pretended to focus on Helen’s visions but the air was thick with the knowledge that things had changed. Nadine had abandoned us. Owen was ambivalent. Could we salvage the wreckage of what had seemed so solid and united before Léon’s arrival? Was there any hope of returning to the way we had been? A traitorous part of me wondered if there was even any reason we needed to stay united. Perhaps we were better off without Nadine in our midst, arguing and insulting people. Owen, I didn’t want to lose, but maybe he could still be convinced to stick with Cain.

  From time to time Cain checked on me, giving me handfuls of chocolate coated peanuts. It was the only thing that kept me awake as I grew heavier and heavier, sagging against him on the sofa. At length Owen found the courage to say what he wanted to say.

  “I want to spend some time working things out. It might require a little distance from the group.”

  Cain tensed beside me but didn’t respond.

  “What does that mean?” Jude’s tone was cynical.

  “Please, Owen,” Liz added softly.

  His jaw tightened. “I need time to make sense of things. Everything’s changing rapidly. Léon has some radical ideas but I don’t want to dismiss them out-of-hand.” He settled his gaze on me. “It would help if Frankie could come talk to us, too.” The way he said us was the clincher. He’d chosen. He wanted to work with Léon, just like Nadine. He thought there was more power, more potential, in Léon’s group.

  I didn’t give him an answer about going to talk with Léon and his stolen group members. Yeah, I needed to see Léon again but I wasn’t about to make any plans, especially in the horrible sense Owen’s words suggested: as another defector from Cain’s group.

  “You need to know something important,” I said, slurring my words from exhaustion. I told him the short version of the kiosk woman’s story. “Léon was wrong. Cain was right. We can’t intervene earlier and expect it to have the same staying power as intervening during the critical moment.”

  Owen looked shocked. “Are you sure it was the same kid? It could have been someone else. A coincidence.”

  I was disappointed. He was usually so willing to question everything. He must have been completely sucked in by Léon’s persuasive powers, to want so badly to believe I was wrong.

  “Yes Owen, I’m sure it was the same boy.”

  Owen rose. “I’m glad you’re okay, Frankie. I’m going home now … Léon and Nadine are there. Will you come with me?” I frowned and shook my head. He shrugged. “Okay. I’ll speak to you soon.” He cast his eye around the rest of them, not meeting anyone’s gaze for more than a moment. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  As he left the chamber Cain’s posture drooped slightly as though he’d relaxed after holding himself tense for a long time. Or maybe it was a disillusioned slump. He didn’t say anything. A tear trickled down Liz’s cheek and Helen patted her shoulder with a helpless glance at me and Cain.

  “Frankie.” Jude’s eyes were more serious than I’d ever seen them. “I don’t think you should meet with them.”

  I didn’t speak. I had to see Léon again.

  “Why not?” asked Cain.

  Jude rubbed his chin. “Léon’s persuasive. Look what’s he’s managed to do already.”

  I used my last bit of energy to protest. “He’ll never talk me into betraying you guys.”

  Jude nodded but I got the feeling he doubted me. I rested my head against Cain’s shoulder and closed my eyes to take a moment ... to try to recover.

  I woke to silence, two candles flickering either side of the Adsero nos carving, the other candles in the chamber extinguished. Cain had moved me so I lay on the sofa. He was stretched out on a mattress, his eyes trained on the ceiling.

  “What’s the time?” I croaked, looking for something to drink. I found a water bottle and drank gratefully.

  Cain checked his watch. “Three.”

  “Crap.” I rolled down to join him on the mattress. “I’ve got classes in the morning. This vision thing is going to be a problem if it keeps wiping me out.” Looking at his profile, the soft shine of candlelight off his skin, and hi
s dark hair falling back on the mattress, I was hit fresh with love for him. I pressed my lips to his shoulder and he squeezed my hand between us but didn’t move or otherwise respond. That wasn’t like him. I knew I should get home but wished he’d give me a reason to stay.

  “You going?”

  “I guess.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  I tried not to feel hurt. Cain was suffering at the moment. This stuff with Léon was messing with his head. We went out to my car and I kissed him goodbye, his face a careful mask over whatever it was he was feeling.

  “I’ll see you later,” I said. “Oh, and I’ve got a thing with Albion and Vanessa on Thursday. I’m going to be a little late that night.”

  “Okay.”

  His blankness unsettled me. As I drove home I made up my mind to see Léon that day. I would tell him how things were. Léon was a part of my life. I had no choice in that. He was my link to this ability that had begun to rise in me. But I would make it perfectly clear to Léon, Owen, and Nadine that I wouldn’t be switching allegiances. Hopefully that would go some way toward reassuring Cain in amongst these other defections.

  ****

  I arranged to visit Léon at Owen’s place after my classes the next day. My college and Owen’s university were just a few minutes apart, which meant his student apartment was on my bus route home. While I waited at the stop outside campus Helen rounded the shelter wall. She spotted me among the other students, her face lighting up as she wove her way closer.

  “Hey, Frankie! I was hoping I’d see you.” She hugged me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I had a meeting with the Dean. I’m trying to re-enrol. Gran’s cutting back her work hours next year so she’ll be able to look after for Mum for the times I’ll be in classes. I can only study part time but it’s better than nothing.”

  “Your grandmother sounds amazing.”

  “She is. She’s our rock. My aunty asked Gran to go live with her in Deliverance Gully after Dad died but she wouldn’t leave us. She knew we needed her here.”

  The bus arrived and we boarded, Helen sitting next to me with a happy sparkle in her eyes.

  “I feel so good today,” she said. “Gran’s making it so I can go back to college, I have awesome friends, and now I’ve even got someone to sit on the bus with.” She grinned at me.

  My heart softened further toward Helen. She truly didn’t have an ounce of bitterness or malice in her despite her hard life. I didn’t need to feel inferior anymore, now it was clear I had some kind of gift as well. It was time to let this envy go. So what if she liked Cain a little too much? He was into me, not her. Surely I could cope with another girl admiring my lover.

  “Unfortunately I can’t be with you for the whole ride,” I said. “I’m going to see Owen and Léon. The bus stop’s coming up.”

  Surprise leapt into her blue eyes. “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah. I need to tell Léon about those kids at Market Lake. It’s important. I mean, what if he tries to intervene too early in a rescue again? And I really want to talk to Owen to find out what the hell he thinks he’s doing by abandoning Cain.”

  “Don’t you ... don’t you want to be with Léon?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I couldn’t imagine being away from Cain now I’ve found him,” she said. “Léon being your protector, I’d have thought you would naturally want to be with him.”

  All my soft-heartedness toward Helen dissipated. We were almost at Owen’s bus stop so I pressed the bell and gathered my things.

  “It’s not very practical when he lives in Québec, right?” I tried to keep the frost out of my voice.

  “I guess,” she conceded. “Although you could go back there, too. To be with him. You know?” She gazed at me innocently.

  I didn’t reply, using the bus’s arrival at the stop as my excuse. “See you tonight.”

  The short walk gave me enough time to shake off the negativity sparked by Helen’s words. She doesn’t mean anything by it, I told myself firmly. I focused on what I was here to do. Owen’s apartment building had no security so I climbed the stairs and knocked on his door. Léon let me in. I stepped directly into a little living room, barely big enough for the sofa and TV it housed. A bed had been made up on the sofa, presumably for Léon. I realised we were alone.

  “Where’s Owen?”

  “He’s meeting his study supervisor, I believe.”

  “Didn’t you tell him I wanted to see him, too?”

  “I didn’t know you also wanted to see him.”

  For real? I swallowed my annoyance but Léon didn’t notice. He took my arm, pulling me further into the room.

  “Francesca, I have something for you.”

  He held his hand out and dropped something into mine. It was a silver necklace, not wrapped or boxed; just as it was. I looked closer and discovered it was a saint medallion. Saint Nicholas ... Pray for Us. I frowned.

  “Saint Nicholas? Why are you giving me this?”

  “The patron saint of children. I’ve seen how you care about children and how it upsets you when they are in danger.”

  “It would upset anyone, I would think.” I kept my eyes on the pendant in my hand, not happy that he’d given me such a personal gift.

  “Your connection with children is particularly strong. It’s impossible not to notice. Will you accept it?”

  “Uh, of course. Thanks.”

  “May I put it on you?”

  “I can do it,” I said hastily.

  He watched while I tried to put the necklace on but the catch was stiff and I had more trouble than expected. To my immense discomfort Léon stepped in to help, gently pulling my hair out of the way and fixing the catch, his warm fingers brushing the nape of my neck. When he’d finished he didn’t move, but stayed behind me. I assumed he was still trying to work out the catch until I turned to check what was happening and found him standing still, arms by his sides, watching me. I stepped away as quickly as I could and fidgeted my hands together.

  “Francesca, it’s becoming urgent that we decipher what is to happen in my hometown. Christmas is just weeks away. I want to ask you something and I beg you to consider it carefully. Will you come back to Québec with me? Will you help me save the innocent people who could be killed in this fire?”

  Uh, what? Put that way, I didn’t feel I could say a flat no, but I sure couldn’t agree to his request either. Helen’s words came back to me: you could go back with him. I sidestepped the question. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to. But we can continue working on the problem, building up the picture. Then you should get the whole, complete vision before too long. You’ll be able to save them.”

  “I cannot do it alone.” Léon actually looked frightened.

  “You don’t need to. You have your group―”

  “My group,” he repeated, his tone bitter. He paced the tiny room and startled me by kicking a pizza box and empty beer bottles out of his way. “My group does not care! Sara is the only one who remains somewhat loyal. The others’ petty insecurities keep them away.”

  This version was different from his initial explanation about how the group had become scattered. I attempted another deflection.

  “Um, did Sara say anything about my idea that she could be having a vision of a morgue?”

  “Yes.” He opened his phone and searched for the relevant email. “Here. ‘Francesca is correct. I recognise it immediately. The sound of metal drawers rolling in and out, the smell of medical fluids. The cold and clink of metal instruments. It is certainly a morgue’.”

  “Good,” I said. “I mean, not good that it’s a morgue but good that she agrees.”

  “She continues with a question. I have already emailed it to you but I’ll show you now, anyway. She asks if you can make sense of this new premonition.” He held his phone so I could see the screen and I read Sara’s email.

  I hear the sound of a truck, a number of trucks possibly, and men tal
king to one another on radio. He says, ‘It’s early. We can do another load tonight.’ The reply comes through the radio. ‘Stick to the schedule. Boss won’t like it if we change the plan.’

  Léon looked at me expectantly. I stared at him with my mouth open because several puzzle pieces had just slotted together in my head and I recognised something that suddenly seemed blindingly obvious.

  “I think the visions are getting mixed up!” I was breathless with my discovery. “Oh, my God! Helen and Liz have both had visions of trucks, and now Sara is seeing them as well. Those are all related to our incident, whatever it is. And Helen has had a vision of the little boy with matches. That’s almost certainly related to your fire incident.”

  Léon frowned. “Is it possible?”

  “They’re getting mixed up, Léon, I’m sure of it. Sara’s premonition is for us. Helen’s vision is for you.”

  Léon was pacing again and nodding but now he stopped. “Us includes you, Francesca. You are part of my ‘us,’ you know that.”

  That threw me momentarily but the discovery was more important.

  “Léon, would you listen to me? This could be why I haven’t been able to pull much together about the next rescue event here. There’s interference from your group’s visions―”

  “Our group!” he thundered. “Our group’s visions, Francesca! Yours and mine!”

  His face was suddenly inches from mine, eyes glaring, brow tugged down into a savage frown. He looked ... unhinged. I shrank away, terrified. Scrabbling for my bag I made for the door but in a flash he was after me, blocking my way.

  “Move,” I demanded, though my trembling voice betrayed me.

  “Francesca.” He was incensed. “Stop. We are doing important work and you cannot simply run away from it.”

  Alarmed as I was I found the presence of mind to consider my options. Would he freak out on me if I kept trying to leave? Maybe I should just play along.

  “I know that.” To my own ears, I sounded wound up tight and ready to burst into tears. Hopefully he couldn’t hear that. “I need to think about this some more, that’s all. I’ve got a theory.” That made him pause and tilt his head. “I think ... I think there’s static on the line while the groups are mixed together.” It appeared his tension decreased ever so slightly. I took courage and went on. “I need to process this information. I’m going to go over everything. Everything we’ve seen―all of us. The visions from our group and the ones from―” I stopped myself. I’d been going to say ‘your group.’ “And the ones from Cain’s group.”