by Mia Hoddell
After the government was overthrown and the military divided and disbanded in the war, it made way for six cartels to be created. Each run by a criminal dictator, they took control of a major city each. That area became their territory and no one crossed the invisible boundaries unless you wanted to die or had permission—it was why Cora couldn’t leave. The areas they controlled flourished as much as they could in the recovering economy, but everyone was better off—to a certain extent—than the middle sections who were left to fend for themselves. The first reason as to why the cartels weren’t better, though, would be the same no matter who you asked: violent methods were used to keep the peace. Because of this, there were a number of unspoken rules that everyone abided by on the streets:
1) Don’t stop and talk to anyone unless necessary. Being out in the open too long is an invitation to be recruited.
2) Don’t show your emotions. If you’re happy no one cares, everyone else is miserable so you should be too.
3) Get by on bare essentials. Don’t use more than you need and definitely don’t complain.
4) Above all, lie. Whether it’s about your name, age, address, income; you lie and you lie convincingly. Information was the key to survival and surviving was all that mattered. You also lie about your opinions. Don’t go against the system and definitely don’t make those types of views public.
Of course, no one enforced these rules but breaking them meant you stood out—and standing out would only bring trouble. The few who stuck to them rigorously, like Cora, were the ones who survived the longest, those who didn’t…well they were probably already signed to Rogan. If they weren’t, they were picked up by scouts soon enough or worse.
It’s needless to say that as Cora made her way back to the flat she shared with her friend Misty that she stuck to the rules. Around her she could hear people breaking them and she could hear people keeping to them. Every time she heard a conversation she would either hear the truth or lie in the person’s voice. She hated it sometimes—she didn’t need to know whether everyone meant what they said especially in such a volatile atmosphere—but Cora had learnt to live with it. Thinking helped her tune it out so that was what she did…at least until a shout broke into her thoughts.
“No one has to live like this! There was a time when we were free to choose what we wanted, who ran the country, how we were governed. We shouldn’t have to live under this murderous dictator. Rogan has a lot to answer for and times are—” The man stood on the corner of a side alley shouting at the top of his lungs to anyone who would listen. His words rang clearer in Cora’s mind but she pushed them to the side; everyone knew about the past and thoughts like that were dangerous. It was a futile attempt that had Cora shaking her head. Keeping her feet moving she refused to make eye contact, to show she was listening, as just like she predicted Rogan’s men descended on him faster than vultures on a fresh kill.
With her eyes on her feet Cora kept moving—she knew exactly how the demonstration would go having seen many before. She heard the scuffle as the man was dragged into the centre of the road, his protests about Rogan still as loud as ever. Then she heard the thuds as the punches rained down on him. The men would beat him within an inch of his life but no further. After that, they would declare to anyone listening that the same would happen to anyone who stepped out of line. Finally, one of them would draw their gun and making sure the victim was looking directly into their eyes, they would raise the weapon to the victim’s head and fire.
As Cora placed her foot on the step to her flat the sharp sound of a gun going off signalled the man’s death and an end to the demonstration. A stupid person would turn around and look and they would have seen the men carrying off the body. However Cora was not stupid. Instead she reached into the pocket of her jeans, pulled out the key to her flat and keeping her eyes fixed on the door, entered the hallway of the building, shutting the door behind her before climbing the stairs. She had seen it too many times to care. If you followed the rules you survived, so Cora had made sure she became immune to the violence—it was the only way to continue living.
Opening the door, she expected Misty to be at either one of her classes or avoiding her. What she didn’t expect was to have arms thrown around her and a head buried in her neck the moment she turned around from shutting the door.
“Oh my God, you’re okay!” Misty squealed, clearly delighted at the sight of her best friend.
Meanwhile, Cora just stood there awkwardly, her arms pinned to her side and her neck stretched out to avoid getting hair in her eyes as Misty hugged her.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Cora asked, slightly unsure as to whether or not she could trust her. She had only known Misty since the start of university but in the two years they lived together they had got on incredibly well. By the end of the first year they were almost inseparable and did everything together. Cora didn’t want to believe that Misty had anything to do with turning her in to Rogan, but she had to make sure.
“I just had a bad feeling about you, that’s all…and I heard the gunshot,” she mumbled while detaching herself and forcing a smile on her face to cover her wary glances around the room.
Lie.
To Cora’s ears, Misty’s voice changed as she spoke, sounding like she had been speaking underwater for a second. It was a sound Cora only heard when someone was not being truthful to her. Studying her friend, she waited to see if she was going to elaborate her point but instead she just stood there, her hands twisting into knots in front of her.
Regardless of what Cora had said when she was drunk, people didn’t actually glow. She had developed a good eye for reading the body language that occurred when people lied, but the biggest tell-tale sign for Cora was their voice. It was the main aspect of her ability and was ninety-nine point nine per cent fool proof.
Cocking her head to one side, Cora placed a hand on her hip while raising an eyebrow in question.
“Really? You just happened to have a ‘bad feeling’?” Cora asked indignantly, trying to get her friend to own up to everything without having to use her ability. She didn’t want to cause more trouble by calling out every lie.
“Yep.”
Her short and to the point response only added to Cora’s certainty that she was lying. Even without her ability, Cora would have been able to tell that.
“Come on, Misty, you know I can tell that’s not true,” Cora said, walking past her to collapse on the sofa.
“God, I hate that, Sarah. It’s so unfair.” Misty followed Cora’s lead and sat down beside her, making sure to stay facing Cora.
“Life’s not fair, deal with it. I didn’t ask for this ability, it’s something I was born with. You think it’s unfair on you? Well try living with it,” Cora snapped.
Holding up her hands in defence to ward off Cora’s attack, Misty tried to placate her friend, unnerved by the harsh words. She had become used to Cora’s mood swings and verbal assaults—it’s who she was—but that didn’t mean she liked them, especially when they were directed at her.
“Sorry, bad day. Just tell me the truth, yeah? It’ll just save me a lot of time calling your bluff,” Cora grumbled as she hung her head in her hands and her fingers went to work, massaging the creases caused by her frown.
“I don’t know that much really. After you left Sam’s they all ganged up on you. They’re scared and think you know the truth about every lie they’ve ever told. Sam was talking about how you should be dealt with and the others agreed.” She paused, looking up at Cora, waiting for her to either believe or confront her.
When met only with silence, Misty continued. “Anyway, I tried to talk them round. I told them that you didn’t know what the truth was, just that they had lied. I also tried to get it into their heads that you wouldn’t remember every lie ever told—you probably hear so many—but they were having none of it. It didn’t matter to them that you were a friend so I left. I didn’t want to be part of anything Sam was planning.” Misty shrugged, si
gnalling the end of her explanation.
There was no need for Cora to ask any more questions, it was obvious Misty was telling the truth and she had no other information.
“Well he did it. That asshole turned me in to Rogan. I’ve spent the last two years making sure he didn’t detect my presence. I lived right under his nose in a place he would least expect and today a gang of his thugs show up to try and ambush me. I have been free of running for years and now Sam has started off the whole chain of events again. You haven’t told anyone where we live have you?” Cora rose and moved towards the kitchen. She needed to busy herself with something, so grabbing a mug, she started to boil the kettle and hunt for the instant coffee.
“No, of course not. You told me not to…a reason I’m starting to understand…Wait, what do you mean ‘started it again?’” Misty enquired as she walked over and pulled her own mug out of the scarce cupboards.
Sighing, Cora once again kicked herself mentally for her slip up. She didn’t really want to relive any of the past but felt she owed Misty a half-truth if she was going to be living in the same building.
“Rogan has been trying to acquire me for years. Every so often he finds out where I’m hiding and sends a bunch of his goons to try and capture me. I then end up having to move and start again.” Cora hoped that the vague answer would satisfy her best friend or that she would at least pick up on her less than hospitable mood.
Misty wasn’t that easily deterred though. “Have you ever been caught?” she asked and despite the worry in her voice there was a slight hint of curious excitement flashing in her eyes.
For a moment Cora thought about lying to her but after a slight hesitation, her conscience kicked in. If she could tell when Misty was lying and force the truth from her, she owed her the same courtesy.
“Yes.”
Well it wasn’t much of an answer, but it wasn’t a lie either and Cora didn’t feel the need to expand on it. Misty, however, had other ideas and the panic was evident on her face. Cora sighed, knowing what her next question was going to be.
“Wait, so you’re signed to Rogan?” Misty started to back away from Cora in fear. Her eyes and mouth had both opened wide as she kept moving further away. Cora sighed and when she moved to take a step towards Misty it only added to the pace of her retreat.
“Don’t be so stupid, of course I’m not signed to him. I got out of it every time. He’s just persistent in trying to acquire me.”
Misty relaxed a little, exhaling heavily as if the world had just been lifted off her shoulders. “But how? You know better than me that no one escapes Rogan if he wants them badly enough. And you’ve escaped more than once?” The disbelief in her voice rang loud and clear causing Cora to sigh once again. Having finished making her coffee, she moved back over to the sofa where she tried unsuccessfully to come up with a better way of explaining than the truth.
“He’s caught me three times. The first time I blackmailed him into letting me go. The second time I paid my way out and the third time I fought my way out, which believe me was like going through the nine circles of hell and back. You wouldn’t believe how many armed men he has in his place. The men give up when they can’t find me; they’re lazy and only do the minimum they can get away with.”
Cora knew what was coming next but she had no intention of revealing what she could have possibly held over Rogan’s head to secure freedom. She could see Misty’s mouth beginning to open in question and before she could utter a word Cora cut her off.
“Don’t bother. I’m not going to answer any more questions on it. All you need to know is that Rogan is after me and if he catches me this time I have nothing left to give. Besides myself, there is nothing I can offer him. Tomorrow I’ll find out what they sold me out for, make them pay, and then we’re moving. Make sure you’re ready to leave soon.” Standing up, Cora walked into her room, slamming the door a little harder than necessary to signal the conversation was over and release her anger.
Chapter 3
He was angry. Actually, he was beyond being angry at his men who had failed.
“You are a bunch of incompetent assholes who couldn’t catch anything unless it offered itself to you on a silver platter!” he roared at the men in front of him. He had his suspicions about the information he had been given and Rogan didn’t believe in coincidences, but he wasn’t allowing the thought that the False Finder in question was Cora just yet.
“We’re sorry sir...We didn’t even get a sighting of her...She had already left by the time we got there,” the man who had worn the sunglasses to the university stuttered, suddenly not so confident in front of his boss.
Remaining seated behind his desk, his unwavering stare never moved from the man. It caused him to start shuffling on the spot while his eyes searched frantically for somewhere to land, so as not to have to meet Rogan’s gaze. The silence dragged on and the man could feel the first few beads of sweat trickling down his brow.
Rogan was a master manipulator and by remaining silent for just the right amount of time, he managed to get the man to speak again, filling in the gaps he had left in the story the first time.
“We spoke to the guy who snitched on her. He said that someone had given her this note and she had left almost instantly.” With nervous steps the man approached Rogan’s desk and holding out the orange slip of paper, he offered it with trembling hands to his boss.
Slowly, as if unsure as to what was going on, Rogan took the note from the man, opening it quickly. The roar that burst from his mouth as he read the note did not sound human, it was pure animalistic rage. He hated being beaten and the fact that someone was one step ahead of him in his own city enraged him even more as he didn’t know where to begin looking.
Slamming his fist down on the table, he reached out to grab the man’s collar with the other hand. Balling up the material in his clenched fist, he pulled the man’s face towards him.
“I want a man on every inch of that campus. You hear me? You are to blend in and watch her until you are sure you can bring her in. No chances and no risk—you wait until it’s definite. I also want leverage: a relative, friend…anything that will give her no choice but to sign a contract, got it? You don’t move in on her until you have that.” Rogan’s voice was full of anger, hatred and cruelty as he gave his orders.
The man nodded quickly, eager to please his boss and hopefully save his own life.
“Screw it up and it’ll be your name at the top of my list.” With his threat made, Rogan released him from his grip, throwing him back a little harder than necessary to make his point clearer—not that it was needed. The man backed out of the door, never taking his eyes off Rogan before finally turning and fleeing to fulfil his task.
Rogan pointed to his second in command as he left. “You go too. It seems you’re the only one I can trust to get a job done.”
The man nodded and left straight away without as much as a question.
* * *
Cora only emerged from her room the next morning when it was absolutely necessary, and even then she was only going to class because she needed information. Sighing as she pulled on her shoes, Cora pushed herself up off the bed and out into the open plan living room and kitchen where Misty was sat reading.
“Morning,” Cora grumbled, not quite awake as she moved to find something to eat—not that there was ever much around. They had enough to live off with Cora’s inheritance but they couldn’t buy everything in excess like before. For one, it drew attention and on another note, food was not allowed to be purchased in bulk anymore. You were rationed to certain items. Each house was given a list that was split into categories. If you could afford it, you could buy a total of three items per category every four days. Cora didn’t know how much of the food shortage was true or how much of it was Rogan exerting his control but she wouldn’t question the system out loud. At least they could purchase the maximum amounts.
At one time Misty would have sat watching TV but now beside the odd new
s broadcast put out by Rogan or another cartel nothing was shown. It wasn’t like most could afford the extra electricity on their bill though, so the majority of their entertainment involved books and board games. It was a strange life considering what people who lived before the war had told her but it was all she had known. Technology and their advancements were only retained and important to those who remained rich and were above the system.
Returning to sit next to Misty on the sofa, finally she looked up acknowledging her presence.
“I wouldn’t stand too near the windows if I were you. There has been a man in black walking up and down for the last hour or so. He’s not that bad to look at really,” Misty said nonchalantly.
Cora almost choked on a mouthful of cornflakes as she paused mid-stride. That was until the distortion of Misty’s voice reached her. Slapping herself on the chest, she cleared her throat while shooting Misty daggers.
“Do not ever joke about something like that. Even if I can tell you’re lying, it isn’t funny.” Cora was in a foul mood and the fact that she didn’t know whether Rogan had backed off yet was making it worse. She didn’t need her best friend adding to the drama.
“First of all it is funny. You should have seen your face for a moment. Secondly, lighten up will you?” Misty was sat giggling to herself, using the book as a shield so only her mischievous eyes were peering at Cora.
“Lighten up? How the hell am I supposed to lighten up Misty? I’m being hunted by the leader of one of the biggest criminal organisations in the country because of my ability. He sent a group of men to retrieve me like cattle that escaped an abattoir yesterday and I have no idea whether they are still out there. Do you really think I can just relax?” Cora fumed, standing up and throwing her bowl into the sink so hard it shattered with an audible crash.