Corruption

by Jessica Shirvington

  ‘It is,’ I replied, glad she had worded the question in such a way. I had made the claim. Didn’t mean it was true.

  ‘Did you hope that this might mean Mr Mercer would pursue a relationship with you?’

  ‘Not any kind of romantic relationship,’ I answered, pleased again that I could answer the question without implicating myself.

  ‘Miss Stevens, would you be surprised if we told you we have reason to believe that the rating you recorded with Mr Mercer was in fact incorrect?’

  Here we go. I looked over to the other side of the room where Quentin was being interviewed. I wondered what his answers would be, and if he was getting the same questions. By the easy smile on his face and his relaxed posture, I was willing to bet they were not quite the same.

  ‘It would seem believable since you’re all here interviewing us,’ I said, looking back at the woman who maintained an impressively blank expression.

  ‘Okay.’ She glanced at her computer then back to me. ‘One final question, Miss Stevens.’

  I nodded. ‘Shoot.’

  ‘Do you believe Quentin Mercer is a high probability match for you?’

  My eyes flashed over to Quentin again. For the first time since we’d entered the gym, he glanced in my direction as if he knew exactly what question I’d just been asked. Our eyes locked and I glimpsed a flicker of emotion, his Adam’s apple jutting out as he swallowed. Just as quickly, he looked away.

  I blinked back the hurt. I had done this to him. And the guilt was just too much.

  ‘I did,’ I answered, my voice breaking.

  ‘And now?’ she pushed.

  I had to let him go. He deserved to live his life the way he’d planned. Even if he had to tear out my heart in order to do it.

  ‘Now I know I’m not worthy of anyone, least of all him,’ I said, staring into space.

  When I looked back at her, she was still making notes on her computer, and in some recess of my mind I understood that the interview had not gone well. I wasn’t a fool. They were setting me up somehow. But there was nothing I could do about it. And anyway … I knew this was also their way of confirming Quentin’s status. If I fought it, it would only cause him problems.

  I really hoped Gus had gotten far away.

  The interviewer put down her laptop and stood. ‘If you’ll follow me, Miss Stevens, we will be retesting your tech now.’

  I followed her to the temporary terminal that had been set up. Nathan, Ivy and Quentin were already there. At the sound of approaching footsteps I turned to see Garrett Mercer entering the hall. My hands fisted as I watched two guards walk in behind him and another two take up position by the doors. This was in addition to the two police officers and Quentin’s bodyguards. The show of force sent a clear message: there was no escape.

  I kept my eyes on my feet, trying to fight the surge of fear at being so close to Garrett Mercer. I knew what this man was capable of. He was the one who’d kept me imprisoned with no food and no light. He was the one who controlled M-Corp. The one who took – So. Many. Lives. Him, and my father.

  ‘Son,’ he said, when he reached our group.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ Quentin replied, sounding pleased to see him. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cut like a knife to hear him to talk to his father so warmly. After all he knew.

  ‘Hello, Ivy. My, my, I barely see my son without you these days,’ Garrett said lightly. I knew his words were intended for me.

  ‘Hi, Mr Mercer,’ Ivy said, giggling. I bit down on the inside of my cheek and told myself sternly that it wouldn’t help to hit her. As gratifying as it would’ve felt, it wasn’t her fault, and anyway, I really wasn’t strong enough to make it count right now.

  I didn’t get a greeting from Garrett, but even with my head down, I felt his eyes on me.

  The technicians reappeared holding plug-in zips. ‘Once you have inhaled your cleansers and activated your tech, we’ll plug these zips into each of your M-Bands, giving us the ability to see the readings from your Phera-tech. Normally we don’t hack into the bands for this information, but given there’s a concern about program tampering, we need to be able to verify the readings directly. Does everyone understand?’

  There were various nods and murmurs of agreement. I noted no one looked in my direction for an answer.

  The head technician nodded, then sent a file to each of our M-Bands. ‘In that case, could you all please thumbprint the waiver under section 164 of the Privacy Act and return the file immediately.’

  As we followed his instructions, the police officers and security guards began to move away from us so they would be out of range. When the technicians were ready, Garrett Mercer cleared his throat.

  ‘Son, why don’t you help by handing out the cleansing vials.’

  Quentin gave a half-smile and nodded before grabbing the tray of vials. He delivered a vial to Ivy first, then Nathan. When he finally stood in front of me, he lifted a vial with my name on it and held it out.

  ‘I believe you know the drill,’ he said, his eyes not meeting mine.

  I reached out and took the vial, our fingers brushing in the transfer. The jolt of emotion caused me to lift my eyes to his. And what I saw there was so strong. So determined.

  Slowly, my eyes still on his, I tipped the contents of the vial into an inhaler and, in one sharp breath, took in the dosage.

  Apart from a slight flexing of his jaw, Quentin showed no reaction as he moved back into position with his own inhaler. I glanced beyond him to see his father watching us closely.

  Once everyone was in place, the head technician instructed us to turn on our tech.

  I looked at Quentin as he turned on his Phera-tech. He didn’t look my way, but I saw his jaw clench again, the only sign that he might not be as relaxed as he appeared. Somehow that gave me strength. The thought that, even though he would make me pay for my sins, there was still a part of him – however small – that possibly cared was comforting. At the same time, it triggered a new concern. Was Quentin as worried as I was, but for different reasons?

  There was a good chance their plan was to prove the ratings taken on the original testing day were incorrect, and then to take me down as the conspirator behind the entire thing. Simple enough. But there was one major flaw. When we turned on our M-Bands, the ratings would expose Quentin and me as a true match. And if Quentin hadn’t told his father the truth, then I couldn’t imagine how that would go down.

  My mind whirred with all the possible scenarios.

  Ivy was bouncing on the spot, she was so excited. My antagonism towards her was only amplified when she reached over and ran her hand down Quentin’s arm. Again. Nathan, on the other hand, looked so pale I almost wanted to reassure him that his ratings would be fine.

  Did Garrett Mercer have any idea how badly this was going to go for him? The more I considered it, the more obvious it seemed that Quentin hadn’t told anyone about our true rating – otherwise Ivy wouldn’t look like it was Christmas morning. Whereas Quentin was clearly not looking forward to the results.

  That hurt too.

  My father’s warning played in my mind. About how the Mercer family would never accept me as their son’s true match. But none of that mattered now. Because Quentin was done with me.

  ‘Miss Stevens, we’re waiting on you,’ the head technician advised impatiently.

  ‘Please hurry up, Miss Stevens. We’d all like to get back to more important issues,’ Garrett Mercer added.

  With no alternative, I glanced around the room one more time before I activated my tech and waited for the inevitable.

  But, even as I registered Ivy’s jump for joy out of the corner of my eye, all I could do was stare at my M-Band.

  Oh.

  I’d been wrong.

  So, so wrong.

  Poetic.

  Quentin’s head was down, but he must have sensed my stare because he eventually looked my way. His eyes said it all. He knew exactly what my results were.

  This hadn’
t just been about vindication and bringing me down publicly. This had been about revenge.

  ‘To verify your readings, we’ll now plug in the zip-readers,’ the technician instructed, approaching Quentin first.

  As he adjusted the plug-in readers, I considered the possible outcomes. Somewhere in the background I heard Ivy chant, ‘Seventy-three per cent, Quinny. Seventy-three!’ I wondered fleetingly if the bookies at school would try to recoup their losses from the original test results.

  Well, they sure as shit weren’t getting my winnings back.

  When I heard Quentin chuckle and remind Ivy that he’d promised her it would all work out, it broke me.

  As the technician approached, my eyes darted briefly to Garrett Mercer, who was watching with a satisfied smirk. Yes, I’d underestimated him.

  I knew what this meant. I was going back underground. And though there was a very large part of me that wanted to turn tail and make a run for it, I stood firm.

  I looked at Quentin. When I caught his eye, I gave him a small nod, which caused him to flinch. But if this was what he needed, then okay. The technician reached me and I held out my arm for him to connect the plug-in reader that would confirm my results. Confirm that I’d rated negative with Quentin.

  Just as I had with everyone else.

  But instead of plugging in the reader, the technician suddenly dropped the portable zip and grabbed the sides of his head.

  The ear-piercing alarm, followed by a number of shrieking alerts from our M-Bands, warned us that this was a full-scale fire alarm.

  The lights shut off.

  The gym was windowless, so we were suddenly thrown into pitch darkness. I couldn’t stop trembling. All I could think of was my tiny prison cell. I was quite sure in that moment that I would rather die than go back to that dark cell. The room, in all its blackness, started to spin as I stumbled back, looking for some kind of anchor.

  I heard sirens approaching as the technicians yelled out that all of their computers had gone down. Even their remote laptops had lost power.

  Continuing to stagger backwards, I heard footsteps running into the hall and two small torches lighting the way for a number of silhouetted guards.

  My heart raced. I was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack as I braced for them to come and take me. But they went straight to Garrett Mercer, forming a protective circle around him as he yelled out orders. The guards, however, only seemed concerned with securing him and began to move him out of the gym.

  The guards who were already in the room called out orders to the rest of us, directing everyone towards the main doors. And then, more thumping footsteps as another group of men entered the room. The spotlights on their helmets identified them as firemen.

  I smelled smoke. Fear forced me back, even as they called out instructions. ‘The building is on fire. This is not a drill and we are evacuating now. Please stay close to us until we are clear of the building!’

  I heard everyone scampering towards the firemen and caught glimpses of their panicked faces in the beams of light from the firemen’s helmets.

  But nothing could stop me backing away. Maggie Stevens. Afraid of the dark.

  Out of nowhere a hand grasped mine and spun me around so quickly I fell into my rescuer’s chest. But I knew that hand, and that chest, instantly. I gasped, instinct taking control, my body clinging to his.

  His hand slid around the back of my neck and he pulled my ear to his mouth. I looked down to where his other hand gripped my forearm and noticed that, oddly, he was wearing a glow-in-the-dark ring. ‘Breathe, Maggie,’ Quentin ordered.

  I gripped him so tightly that later, looking back, I couldn’t be sure if he was holding me or I was just clinging to him. But in that moment, it felt like he was the only thing holding me together.

  All too quickly he pulled back, gripping my shoulders tightly. ‘You need to run.’ He gave me a sharp shake. ‘Now!’

  I shook my head and clung to his arms. ‘Run where?’ I tried to sound like the old me, but I didn’t. I sounded scared and weak and beaten.

  Quentin didn’t hesitate, he just squeezed my shoulders one more time before he spun me away from him into another set of waiting arms. I jerked back, thinking I’d been captured, but then heard another voice I knew so well.

  ‘Didn’t think I’d miss out on a chance to have you owe me one, did you, Mags?’

  Tears were streaming down my face. From the time I’d been taken prisoner, to being released, arriving at school and everything going from bad to worse – I’d held it in. Until now.

  ‘Gus?’ I said, worried I might’ve completely lost my grip on reality.

  ‘Who else would be able to orchestrate something so awesome?’ He leaned closer. ‘And manage to blow up a building in the process.’

  I choked on a laugh.

  He tugged my arm. ‘Mags, we gotta book it.’

  ‘Quin?’ I asked with a cough. Smoke was rapidly filling the gym.

  ‘He’s safe, trust me.’

  Before I could nod, Gus was dragging me away from the main entrance and towards the back door which lead to the changing rooms – and, I later discovered, to the small device he’d rigged to blow a hole in the wall. It didn’t escape my notice that Gus was also sporting a happy face glow-in-the-dark ring.

  They’d planned everything.

  I was so weak, I could barely keep my feet moving. And yet, I could feel the lingering sensation of Quentin’s touch and it urged me on. And Gus’s hand was holding mine. I was weak, but they’d given me their strength.

  Even when I didn’t deserve it.

  Four

  ‘Why are we here?’ I wheezed, hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath.

  We had run from the school to a car Gus had parked nearby. He’d had to support me with his arm at various points to help me along. After a short drive into the city, we’d paused only long enough for Gus to upload a GPS hazer onto my M-Band and dump the car before we started running again. It had only been a few blocks, but I was wasted. Gus had to practically carry me the last stretch.

  ‘Jesus, Mags. You look like death. I mean, if death could actually heave like that.’

  I collapsed into a booth. ‘Why Burn?’ I asked, looking around at the deserted nightclub.

  Gus shrugged. He was standing behind the bar, helping himself. He walked over and handed me a glass of water while he sipped on something similarly clear yet an awful lot stronger.

  ‘The bar manager lives upstairs. She owes me a debt.’ He shrugged again. ‘If we stay hidden, we’re safe here. She’s given us access to her apartment upstairs.’ He studied me for a moment. ‘Let’s hope there’s some food up there so you don’t die overnight.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m not that bad.’ But I entirely agreed about the food issue. In the midst of the explosions and escaping, I’d left my bag – and food supply – behind.

  ‘Maggie, your collarbone sticks out about an inch from your neck. Trust me when I say it’s going to take a whole lot of hot dogs to fix this.’ I ignored the way my mouth watered at the mention of hot dogs. Gus shook his head and looked away.

  ‘You’re angry with me,’ I said softly. It wasn’t like I didn’t expect it.

  His fierce eyes came back at me. ‘Not you, Mags. Your dad. I can’t …’ He swung his arm out, sending his empty glass flying into the wall. ‘I can’t believe he just stood by! I know you wanted things to work out differently, but your dad’s a total prick, you get that, right?’

  ‘I get it.’

  ‘Good,’ he said with a firm nod, which made my heart a bit mushy for him. Sure Gus was all tough and uncaring on the outside, but we weren’t so different.

  I took a greedy gulp of water and snatched the bag of chips he’d thrown in the middle of the table. Gus raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I … Food was hard to come by …’ I swallowed and stared at the packet of chips, ashamed. I opened the bag and put them in the middle of the table to share
.

  Gus poured himself a fresh drink and sat opposite me. He didn’t reach for the chips.

  ‘Tell me everything,’ I said.

  Leaning back, he took a large gulp, cringing as it went down. ‘Quin was taken into a holding cell at the same time you were. They knocked him out with a sedative and when he woke up, his father was there. Garrett Mercer told him in no uncertain terms the way everything was going to go down. Quin figured out pretty quick that you’d be kept imprisoned and that if he fought for you, his father would make sure you never saw the light of day. I gotta give it to him, he definitely picked up a few tricks from you along the way. The man has been relentless.’

  ‘So it seems,’ I mumbled, not sure how I felt about him playing these types of games. He’d been through enough.

  ‘Anyway,’ Gus went on. ‘He made sure his father believed that he hated you. That he’d only just figured out what you’d done to him and that he wanted you to pay big time.’

  ‘I’m sure that didn’t take much imagination on his part,’ I offered.

  ‘Probably not,’ Gus agreed.

  I appreciated the sting of his honesty.

  ‘Did he tell his dad that …’ I looked down, embarrassed.

  Gus snorted. ‘That you two crazy kids are a true match? And thanks, by the way, for letting me in on that one too.’

  ‘Sorry, Gus. I just … I couldn’t. I barely admitted it to myself.’

  He shrugged. ‘I can’t know for sure, but Quentin says he hasn’t said a word. And it seems that, for some reason, your father has kept quiet about it too, as far as we can tell.’

  That was one thing, I suppose.

  ‘So Quentin came back as if nothing had happened?’

  ‘He might not have been locked in prison, Maggie, but I don’t think life has been a party for him lately, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s being watched constantly. The security who were with him at the school are nothing more than a glorified prison. They report everything back to his father.’