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Balance - Book 2

Page 51

by Marc Dickason


  *****

  My Place of Calm would not be locked down. My heart refused to slow, denying focus. I drew in deep breaths, desperately trying to dispel the adrenalin. But it remained, pumping fire into my veins.

  “Come on,” I heard myself snarling.

  I looked down at my legs and attempted to urge them into action, hoping that intention alone would break the Spell. But as my cheeks puffed out and face screwed up in concentration all that was achieved was a feeble twitching.

  “Clarence?” the radio voice drifted over from my car, “Come back, Clarence? Backup has arrived on the scene. Do you read?”

  “She’s getting away!” I screamed back at the radio, “She’s getting away!”

  Defeat settled in like an irrevocable lead weight.

  “She’s getting away!”

  The words tore up my throat and exploded from my mouth; a release of pure frustration and rage. Anger radiated from every fibre of my body. I screamed, and all at once my Spirit was tearing directly up into the sky. It penetrated the heart of a cloud and churned it into a spiral. For an infinite moment there was nothing but white-hot scorching defeat. And the flame screamed along in its own discordant voice.

  The blast subsided and I lay back, panting. White novas exploded in my head.

  “Clarence, come back, Clarence?” the radio repeated, “Backup standing by, Clarence?”

  Seconds passed. The rage subsided. It dawned on me my limbs were once again functional. I staggered to my feet and hobbled over to the vehicle, hand holding the back of my head. My fingers felt clotted hair. Across the parking area a handful of Enforcers had gathered to breach the gate. One waved anxiously and I waved back.

  “This is Clarence.” I said into my radio, “A black vehicle has left the Global Net property. Repeat a black vehicle has just left the property a few minutes ago, through the damn border fence. Occupant is Fran Clarence, wanted for questioning. Heading southeast up… Tenth... I think it’s Tenth. Do you copy?”

  “We copy, Clarence.”

  “Tell them to move. They might still be able to catch her.”

  I made to climb into the vehicle but halted. My eyes drifted to the unconscious body of Phillip. My hand moved to the radio but I stopped it. My brain was yammering.

  ‘He knows something,’ it babbled, ‘has to know something. He had to apply for the job. Be at an interview. Fran Clarence had to plant the spells. He knows something…’

  My heart was returning to sixth gear. A ray of hope was breaking through the fog of defeat. A quick glance at the other Enforcers showed their vehicles were reversing out of the driveway and moving to pursue my grandmother. My head spun and eyes fixed on the Global Net entrance. That bastard creature; I had illegally entered the building. That meant by letter of the law none of the information I had found could be used in a case. And, by extension, Phillip the security guard had no grounds to be legally interrogated. My eyes settled back on his limp heaving mass.

  I reached down and grabbed him under the arms, grunting as I heaved his body to the vehicle. But my injured hand, having been cooperative the entire day, began screaming white fire.

  “Damn it,” I hissed through clenched teeth, “Move you son of a bitch! Move! Move!”

  My heart lurched as I realised a figure was standing nearby. It watched quietly.

  “Don’t just stand there,” I snapped at it, “Grab his legs.”

  The demon moved to obey and together we managed to stuff Phillip into the passenger seat.

  “Clarence,” the radio said, “Clarence, what is your position?”

  I jogged round to the driver’s door.

  “This is Clarence,” I responded, “Joining pursuit of black vehicle.”

  “Roger that, Clarence.”

  Halfway back to the apartment Phillip groaned and raised his head. Around us afternoon traffic buzzed.

  “God, my head,” he mumbled. “What happened? Where the hell am I?”

  “Stay calm, Phillip” I said, flipping on the indicator. “Stay calm. I’m an Enforcer. You’ve been in an accident.”

  “An accident? Who the hell are you?” His body tensed. “Where am I? I’m supposed to be at work…”

  I pulled over into a street side parking bay. His hand reached automatically for the door handle. I grabbed his arm.

  “Stay calm and stay low,” I said. His head turned and piggy eyes focused on my face. “Lay back, keep quiet. You’ll be fine.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Trust me. You need to stay low and out of sight until we’re…”

  “Why? I need to be at work. You need to take me back! Please, I’ll be in trouble! Who the hell are you?!”

  A passing couple glanced in through the windscreen but kept moving. Phillip was resisting. My grandmother’s spell held firm.

  “Phillip, listen to me.” I increased the output of Spirit. “You are in serious danger. Do you understand me?”

  “Danger?”

  “Yes, danger. Life threatening danger. If you do not stay low and out of sight, mouth shut, they’ll see us. Get me?”

  “They?”

  “Yes. They! They! You’re putting us both at risk. Just do as I say. Shut up and stay down. Okay?”

  He nodded, lips trembling. “Okay...”

  “Okay, Phillip?”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “Good man.”

  He hunched down and I pulled out of the parking bay. Twenty minutes later we were at the apartment.

  “We’re here,” I announced, glancing around.

  A saucer eye peeked from under an arm. “Where?”

  “The safe house. They won’t find you here.”

  “You’re sure?’

  “I’m sure. Now listen.” I turned to face him, pushing out more Spirit. “We have to get inside and up the stairs. But you need to act casual. Okay? You need to throw them off if they’re watching. Understand?”

  “They might be watching?”

  “Oh yes, Phillip. You never know where they may be. It’s always a risk. Can you do that? Act casual?”

  “I’ll try.” He took a deep breath. His face glistened with sweat.

  “Excellent. Don’t look around, look straight ahead. Keep cool. And follow me.”

  “Okay.”

  I cleared my throat and grabbed the radio. “Clarence here”

  “Go ahead, Clarence.”

  “I think I’ve spotted the black vehicle at a residence. Proceeding to investigate.”

  “Roger that, Clarence.”

  I climbed from the car and headed into the apartment block. Phillip followed behind, shuffling along with eyes darting off in an attempt to spot ‘them.’

  “Just stay calm, buddy,” I said, “up the steps. Let’s go. Almost there.”

  By the time we exited onto the fifth floor his eyes were wild and breathing frantic. I quickened my pace. The apartment came into view.

  “Just up ahead.”

  It seemed we would arrive unseen. But on the home stretch an apartment door opened and resident stepped out. A pensioner in her seventies, recyclable shopping bag in hand.

  “Oh, hello boys,” she said, smiling.

  I snapped round and peered into her face. “Hello, ma’am. You haven’t stepped out of your apartment yet. You remembered you have to wash the bathroom sink and decided to do that before leaving. So that’s what you’re doing right now. You didn’t see me. You didn’t see Phillip.”

  “Yes. I’ll wash the bathroom sink.”

  She stepped back inside.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  We kept walking. Phillip swallowed.

  “Spy?” he muttered.

  “Almost certainly.”

  We arrived and I unlocked the apartment door.

  “Benny?”

  No answer. I stepped aside and let Phillip waddle eagerly inside. He let out a shuddering sigh.

  “Wow, thanks, man,” he gasped, “Oh my word. I really owe you one, you know that? I t
hought for sure they had me. For sure. I’ll make it up to you. When we get out of this I owe you a serious solid.”

  “Just take a seat and relax for a moment. Don’t talk, okay. I need to think.” My voice lowered. “They might be listening so just…” I put a finger to my lips.

  He nodded and sat on the living room couch. My brain scrambled. How to probe the man and get him back out into the world? Major mind surgery was required either way I looked at it.

  “Respect the clicks,” I muttered to myself.

  “What?” he blurted.

  I put my index finger to my lips.

  “Right, sorry.”

  One step at a time. I walked over and sat on the coffee table, facing Philip.

  “Something’s going to happen now, Phillip. And you’re probably not going to like it.”

  His face drained. “What?”

 

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