Fracture

by C. J. Daugherty

  Holding up her water glass, Allie watched the liquid swirl. Remembering her history lesson that morning, she thought about Napoleon’s plan – the way he defeated a larger army through cunning and deception.

  But who is Napoleon? she wondered. Is it us? Or Nathaniel?

  THIRTY

  B

  ut Nathaniel did not make his move the next day. Or the day after that.

  Or the next day.

  As time passed, the school fell into an uneasy sort of normality. Students went to class, studied, played games… and waited.

  When a week had passed without any sign of Nathaniel, Allie began to allow herself to hope that maybe they were safe after all. Perhaps Lucinda had got to the board in time. Maybe they’d stood up to him and he’d been forced to back down.

  When she asked Isabelle about it, though, the headmistress just shook her head. ‘He’s letting us get comfortable. Hoping we drop our guard.’

  After the Night School instructors returned to the school, the group met less often. Raj and Isabelle had ordered them to stop looking for the spy and, under the circumstances, they had little choice – the teachers watched them like hawks. Now there was nothing for them to do but wait. Jules and Lucas began joining them for meals again and conversations about lessons replaced Nathaniel and spies.

  It was a kind of false normality and Allie hated it. It felt like they were all pretending something awful wasn’t about to happen. But what else could they do?

  She found she missed the adrenaline rush of meeting in secret out of hours, of sneaking into locked rooms and searching for evidence. She missed the feeling of actually doing something. They were back on the outside of things again. On some level, maybe they always had been but, at least for a while, it had felt like they’d had some control.

  Without the daily gatherings, she found it easy to keep her distance from Sylvain. And she wanted to do that. She needed time to think about things.

  Every so often, though, she’d look up and find him watching her from across a room, a lost look in his bluer than blue eyes. And her heart would twist inside her.

  Each time it happened she remembered what he’d said: ‘I won’t wait for ever… It hurts too much…’

  Sometimes, when he made no effort to pursue her, or he didn’t laugh at one of her jokes, she’d worry he’d decided not to wait any more and panic would unfurl in her chest unexpectedly, making her heart stutter.

  He just… had to wait. Just until this thing with Nathaniel was finished. After that…

  For his part, Carter never returned to the walled garden. Allie had suspected he wouldn’t after their talk, but she still felt bereft that first sunrise when he didn’t appear.

  Still, though, at least they were getting along better. He treated her like a normal friend – not a good friend – but a friend, nonetheless.

  Baby steps, she told herself.

  The weirdest development was she was starting to like gardening. She remembered something Jo had told her once about falling in love with the gardens after she’d been given weeks of detention. At the time Allie hadn’t understood but now she could see what Jo meant. There was something therapeutic about the smell of damp earth; about dropping seeds into it and covering them up. It was calming.

  It helped that the cold was less biting now. March had arrived in the midst of all this and green shoots appeared everywhere, all at once, as if someone somewhere had pressed a button marked ‘Grow’. The neat, straight furrows she and Carter had made that morning in the rain were already lined with tiny green plants that would someday be carrots, cabbages and potatoes. Looking at them, she felt a sense of accomplishment – she’d helped to create that.

  Mr Ellison had become less fierce once he and Allie were alone again, as if he felt sorry for her. Most days, he brought out a thermos of hot sweet tea and packets of biscuits, and they’d take a break, sitting on a bench, munching the biscuits and watching the birds work. They talked about a lot of things then – about his childhood in London, and how he came to Cimmeria to escape the city. He never told her the story Carter had told, about making a mistake and losing everything, and Allie didn’t ask. But she found herself telling him things she wouldn’t have wanted to tell anyone else. How she and her mum couldn’t talk any more. How she missed her dad. There was something about him – a kind of thoughtfulness and wisdom – that made her feel she could really talk to him. He’d made mistakes in his life, too. And so he, perhaps alone among the adults she knew, was unlikely to judge her.

  Lately, Allie had been having long talks with Isabelle, too. After Lucinda’s visit she’d plied her with questions about Orion and Nathaniel and Gabe.

  It was Isabelle who told her about the other secret groups like Orion elsewhere in the world. That the one in Europe was called Demeter. The one in America, Prometheus. That Orion was the oldest but no longer the biggest or most powerful.

  The headmistress also told her more about Nathaniel’s plan. As they sat in her office one Friday after the day’s classes ended, Allie asked her about Nathaniel.

  ‘What does he really want?’ she said. ‘I mean, I know he only wants me to get back at Lucinda. And I know he hates you because of the inheritance. But why is he really doing this?’

  As if she’d felt a sudden chill, Isabelle pulled her navy cardigan off the back of her chair and draped it over her shoulders. Under it she wore a white polo-neck top and slim, grey trousers. There was no way you would look at her and think she was organising a fight – preparing for an attack. She just looked like a teacher.

  ‘For the last few years, Nathaniel has travelled the world seeking support for his plan to overthrow Lucinda and take full control of Orion,’ Isabelle explained. ‘Some of the reason is personal, as you know, but some of it is pure hunger for power and wealth. To be richer than his father ever was. Better. On his own, he hasn’t got enough support within the organisation to do it so he’s looking for international backers. He visited Demeter in Zurich in January and I’m told they sent him packing.’ Her gaze hardened. ‘But I fear he received a warmer reception from Prometheus.’

  ‘America?’ Allie blinked. ‘Why would they listen to him? He’s crazy.’

  ‘They’re not really listening to him,’ Isabelle said. ‘They want to use him. You see, there are people in Prometheus who have been arguing for precisely what Nathaniel is offering for many years. They see in him a potential ally. With Britain on their side that would tip the balance. They could have what they’ve always wanted – more control, more power. Unimaginable wealth. The return of the oligarchs. An end, I fear, to the modern experiment with democracy.

  ‘If they can rid themselves of the shackles of laws designed to protect people… just think of the money they could make. They would be kings.’

  Allie looked at her doubtfully. ‘But that’s bonkers. Surely there’s no way it would happen. People wouldn’t accept it.’

  Isabelle’s expression held an odd mix of cynicism and melancholy. ‘People wouldn’t even notice,’ she said.

  ‘Of course they’d notice – everything would change.’

  ‘Yes, things would change. But not obviously,’ Isabelle said. ‘And most people aren’t paying attention. They’ve got jobs and children, mortgage payments and problems… they don’t have time to notice little changes in the law that don’t seem to affect them anyway. Look at what Orion’s accomplished already – it has infiltrated every major branch of British leadership from the government to the media to the courts. It has never overtly tampered with an election as far as I know, but it could if it wanted to. And if it did, no one would ever find out.’ She leaned back in her chair. ‘Because Orion controls the organisation that monitors elections.’

  Allie stared at her open-mouthed.

  ‘Are you saying Nathaniel could actually do what he wants to do? He could –’ she didn’t even know the word for what he wanted to do – ‘take over?’

  ‘I’m afraid he could,’ Isabelle said. ‘T
hat’s why this matters so much. That’s why people have died. Because what’s at stake is everything.’

  With so little action, Allie had no choice but to catch up on her school work. Every afternoon she and Rachel could be found in the library studying at Rachel’s favourite tucked-away table, sitting in soft leather chairs in the glow of the green-shaded desk lamp. Just like the old days.

  One Wednesday, nearly two weeks after the instructors first returned, Rachel was tutoring Allie in chemistry. It was late afternoon and Allie was thinking very strongly about going to the kitchen in search of a snack.

  ‘I think you missed part of that molecule.’ Rachel pointed at the diagram in Allie’s notebook. ‘There should be another bit. Like this.’ Sliding her textbook over, she showed Allie how the design should look. ‘Otherwise you’ll end up with, I don’t know, a badger molecule.’

  Drawing the new section, Allie didn’t look up as she replied. ‘A badger molecule?’

  ‘You know how badgers kind of look like someone dropped some of their molecules and then accidentally added parts of something else’s molecules? That’s what I mean.’

  As Allie’s molecule began to make more sense, though, a disturbed murmur swept the room. Glancing around, Allie could see no obvious problem, but some students had left their tables and now gathered in clusters, whispering. A few of them ran from the room.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she said, mostly to herself.

  ‘Someone probably broke up with someone.’ Rachel kept working. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t know before now.’

  ‘You still don’t actually know,’ Allie pointed out.

  ‘Good point,’ Rachel said, half standing. ‘So if I go and ask…’

  Then she saw something that made her stop talking.

  Her footsteps silent on the Persian rugs, Katie was running across the room towards them, her vivid ponytail streaming behind her. She must have run a long way – she was breathless; her milky skin even more pale than usual.

  When Katie reached them, she gripped the table so hard her knuckles turned white.

  ‘It’s started.’

  THIRTY-ONE

  ‘G

  o.’

  When Katie didn’t move, Allie shoved her hard.

  ‘Now!’

  She almost shouted the word and the girl turned and ran without looking back at her.

  Adrenaline poured into Allie’s veins, setting her pulse racing as she turned to Rachel. ‘Are you ready?’

  Looking scared, Rachel took off her glasses and tucked them into her skirt pocket.

  ‘What about our things…?’ She gestured at the table in front of them, piled with books and papers and pens, all the normal accoutrements of student life.

  ‘Leave them.’ Allie’s tone was gentle. She needed Rachel not to panic. ‘They’ll be here when we come back.’

  If we come back, she thought.

  Rachel nodded as if this all made perfect sense.

  The library was almost empty now.

  ‘Come on, Rach.’ Allie took a step towards the door. ‘We’ve got to bail.’

  Still not moving, Rachel looked around the room. ‘Lucas.’

  Allie took her arm. ‘He knows where to go. You told him. He’ll be there now. You have to trust him. OK?’

  Taking an unsteady breath, Rachel nodded and straightened her spine. ‘Let’s go.’

  Then they ran out of the room into the suddenly empty grand hallway and up the grand staircase, to where groups of confused students had clustered.

  Through the windows on the landing they got a glimpse of the row of gleaming limousines, Rolls Royces and Bentleys outside, stretching as far as they could see.

  Rachel blanched. ‘There are so many.’

  ‘There should be ninety.’ Allie’s tone was tense as her gaze swept down the row of dark cars. ‘Come on.’

  Quickening their pace they ran down the hallway. A winding stone staircase led them down to the ancient cellar. As they hurtled into the coolness of the dim, stone room they found most of the others had already arrived. Zoe, Nicole and Sylvain were clustered in a tight knot, talking in urgent whispers.

  ‘There you are.’ Nicole looked relieved.

  ‘Where’s Carter?’ Allie asked.

  Silence fell. Allie had the sickening sense that something was wrong.

  It was Sylvain who broke the news.

  ‘He’s searching for Jules.’ Sylvain held her gaze steadily. ‘Her parents were among the first to arrive.’

  The floor seemed to sway under Allie’s feet; she stared at him in horrified disbelief. ‘Jules…? No, that can’t be right.’

  But even as she said it she knew it was true – he’d never get that wrong.

  Raking her fingers through her hair, she tried to think this through. Carter had never once mentioned which side Jules’ parents were on. He’d never said a word about it. Allie had just assumed they supported Isabelle – the alternative was unthinkable.

  Poor Carter.

  With that, the awful reality of it all set in. Anyone’s parents could be out there. Panic made it hard for her to think.

  ‘Did Jules get away?’ Allie asked, trying to steady herself. ‘Did everyone get away? Do we know?’

  ‘We came down here right away so we don’t know what’s happening upstairs,’ Zoe said.

  Next to her, Nicole looked worried. ‘Their arrival happened so quickly.’

  The students who didn’t want to go should now be scattered in hiding places all over the campus. Isabelle, who was fully involved in the plan and had arranged its finer details, was probably telling some parents right now that she had no idea where their children were.

  ‘Someone should go up to keep an eye on things,’ Allie said. ‘Rachel and I are safe, we could both go.’

  Rachel gave a tense nod, her dark hair bouncing against her shoulders.

  ‘You shouldn’t go alone,’ Sylvain said. ‘I’m safe. I can go as well.’

  Looking down at her nails, Nicole hesitated just a little too long.

  ‘I will stay down here,’ she said at last. When they all turned to stare at her she gave a delicate shrug that pretended nonchalance she clearly didn’t feel. Her dark eyes betrayed her nervousness. ‘Just in case. I think my parents are… undecided.’

  Zoe tugged on Allie’s sleeve insistently. ‘I want to come with you.’

  Apprehension made it hard for Allie to breathe. It was too much – Zoe was so small. She was only thirteen.

  If anything happened to her…

  ‘Come on, Zoe.’ Allie’s tone was gentle; convincing. ‘It’s not fair to leave Nicole alone down here.’ When Zoe lifted her chin stubbornly, she tried a different tack. ‘Look, it won’t be for long. I’ll come back in a few minutes and we can switch. OK? We need to stick together.’

  For a moment it looked as if Zoe might refuse, but then she relented, her shoulders drooping.

  ‘Sure,’ she said, jutting out her lower lip. ‘I’ll stay here and hide.’

  ‘All right.’ Sylvain turned to Rachel and Allie. ‘We must divide. I’ll take the boys’ dorm. Rachel, you take the girls’ dorm. Allie, you’re the main building – the library and common room – and try to find Isabelle. We’ll meet back here in twenty minutes precisely.’ He looked from one to another of them, his expression deadly serious. ‘Don’t be late. Don’t make us come and look for you.’

  There were several ways into the cellar. Sylvain headed down a narrow corridor to a staircase leading to the main building. Allie and Rachel turned back to the staircase they’d come down earlier – it led straight to the girls’ dorm.

  As they headed up the stairs, Nicole called after them. ‘Be careful.’

  Her French-accented words echoed off the stone walls around them as they climbed.

  Rachel and Allie ran all the way to the top of the dark, dusty staircase – the only sound their harsh breaths, the pounding of their feet on the uneven steps.

  They emerged into the girl
s’ dormitory to find it a scene of utter upheaval. In the corridor girls were hugging each other and crying as male bodyguards and drivers in a variety of uniforms hurried them along with the barely controlled violence of riot police.

  ‘Get your things,’ one man in a black uniform barked at a twelve-year-old girl who cowered away from him, clinging to a friend’s hand, ‘or we’re leaving without them. It makes no difference to me.’