by Emery Hale
‘I just don’t want you to think I’m replacing Willow.’
‘You’re not replacing her,’ Jessica said. ‘This is a one-time thing. It will never happen again.’
‘Yeah, right – yeah, course,’ I said, nodding quickly, biting my lip a little. ‘Lily said that this is your worst nightmare, me joining you on an mission.’
‘On the scale of where I’d rather have you, the field on a mission involving terrorists is the last place.’
I knew it, of course Jess was protective – and even though I wouldn’t admit it out loud, I kinda liked it.
Jessica turned to leave the kitchen when I grabbed her hand.
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘I intend to keep my promise. I’ll get you out of here.’
‘If you live long enough,’ Jessica said as she pulled away.
There’s Jess for you, miss rainbow sunshine with unicorn stickers on the side.
CHAPTER 19
Psychodysleptic
Hallucinogenic.
QUINN EATON
The next day I was out the door before the rest of the house woke up. I just needed my own space for a little while and there was only so much of Lily’s snoring I could take. I got dressed quietly in the bathroom, grabbed my stuff and headed out.
I really missed the Sunday dinners mum used to make. I hated that she had to live in witness protection for the rest of her life, and what made it worse was that the entire thing was set up by the Academy. It happened when I came here as a first year and I thought the idea was great, but as time went on I saw it as quite the opposite. Now, I was lucky to see her twice a year.
The clock had just struck five and thankfully it was still dark outside. I assumed that everyone in the accommodation was still asleep since even the Runners don’t get up this early to train, and I was glad I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. Not that I’m unsociable – I just liked to think of the early morning as me time. I’d go to the main command room with my mug of green tea, laptop and fluffy blanket and sit at my desk near the back. I did most of my work there undisturbed until Mr Thompson came in at half past eight. My work varied: sometimes it was for my so-called degree, and other days it was strictly mission prep. On the odd occasion, it was the time Willow and I would spend together.
Looking back, I guess that was how we grew so close to one another, spending our mornings going over strategies and blueprints. Then one day she brought breakfast, then the next and the next. Before I knew it there were croissants and white chocolate-covered strawberries. It wasn’t till I was going through her room the other day that I found out Willow had made the pastry from scratch. I never realised how much effort she put into everything she did, not until it was too late.
The Academy was extremely quiet and another reason I came so early was because I liked to listen to the sound of my kitten heels clicking over the marble floor.
You’re vintage, retro and classy, I heard her say. How could I ever look at anyone else?
Even though Willow was gone, when I was alone her voice floated around me, like she was some kind of angel. Screw that, like they would ever let her into heaven. Willow would be too busy twerking in hell or purgatory. Whatever was waiting for her in the afterlife, I knew she’d greet it with a Sex on the Beach and a bottle of tequila.
My heels seemed to click louder as I made my way to the main command room, my hand running across the wall as it changed to concrete, although it was strange that the door was left wide open. You always had to have a security pass to get in here . . .
Had someone broken in? Oh Mary and the wee baby! What do I do? Should I call for Helen? I couldn’t exactly call the police.
See, this is what I got for being a productive early bird, a break in! Oh why couldn’t I be Lily, she’d kick these attackers into next week, well maybe not next week since she was feeling like crap, more likely this coming Thursday. I searched for a place to put my things down since my hands were full but there was nowhere, this place really needed some shelves! It had everything else but did they think of shelves? No!
Mid freak-out I realised that Mr Thompson’s bag was tucked under one of the desks straight ahead of me – wait, so this wasn’t a break in? Then I heard a cough and some more shuffling from inside – OK, maybe no one broke in.
I walked in as quietly as I could, popping my head around the door to see Mr Thompson sitting at one of the back desks. My desk to be exact, but I wasn’t going to fuss – well, I might actually, he could mess up my station and I’d just got the succulents in good condition.
As I took a proper look at him I realised just how ragged he was, his shirt wrinkled, hair greasy and now that the floodlights were up, the bags under his eyes were as heavy as designer ones.
‘Is this a bad time?’ I asked, stepping into the room.
Mr Thompson flew out of his seat, his arms flailing in fright, but when he saw it was only me he groaned, a palm slapped to his forehead. Should a spy be so jumpy? I mean, what if I’d been trying to break in?
‘Christ, Quinn, do you know how late it is?’ he asked.
‘Do you know how early it is?’ I asked in return.
The man blinked slowly, his mind taking a while to catch up, before he gazed at the big digital clock on the wall.
‘Oh . . . ’
I didn’t bother asking him if he’d been here all night since it was obvious he had – why, though? There was no need for him to, classes weren’t until this afternoon. I knew an op happened yesterday but there wouldn’t have been much clean-up.
I dropped my stuff on another desk, pulled up a chair and sat down.
‘Is everything OK?’ I asked.
Thompson was a cold man but there was part of him that had thawed, I put it down to all the green tea I’d been giving him.
‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that?’ Thompson answered, and I felt my face fall.
I’d forgotten he knew. I mean, it was hard to hide, especially when he walked in an hour earlier for work one day.
‘I’d rather we didn’t talk about her, at least until after the funeral.’
‘Closed casket,’ Mr Thompson muttered under his breath. ‘Parents haven’t set a date yet, Lennox is arranging the whole thing.’
What? How could anyone let her plan such an important event? That should be left up to Willow’s parents, not Lennox of all people. Hell, I’d be a better choice and they didn’t even know about me!
I didn’t realise Mr Thompson was staring until his shoe began to tap against the hollow floor. A lump of metal slid down my throat as I met his gaze. I wasn’t ready to talk about Willow yet. That was allowed, right?
Maybe I should go speak to Lennox, she was a psychologist after all, it’s what she’s here for.
‘What have you been doing all night?’ I asked, trying to change the subject.
Mr Thompson let out another annoyed groan before frowning at the computer – was he not a fan of the inspirational stickers I put on there? That was when my eyes trailed down to the half empty bottle of whisky.
Step in the right direction if you ask me I heard Willow say, but I shook my head, trying to silence her voice.
I knew this wasn’t healthy but if she disappeared for good then what would I be left with? Then she really would be gone.
‘You’ve been drinking?’ I asked, even though it was blatantly obvious.
‘Eh,’ he mused, ‘passes the time.’
Oh OK, should I offer to get him help? I knew he drank a lot, but even by Scottish standards this was a bit excessive. And the empty bottle of vodka in the bin next to him didn’t help his case.
I knew he wasn’t going to answer me so I shot off the chair, gently pushing in front of him to look at the computer. I noticed pretty quickly that he didn’t try to stop me and I soon saw why, there was no way – cells?
There were blueprints on the screen marked ‘-3B’ but it wasn’t just another floor, it was a prison. Cells were clearly marked out, a walkway above to observe everything. Then op
en on the next window was a mock-up of what they looked like: solitude cells, the entire room padded, with no windows. You wouldn’t even be able to tell who was in there unless you opened the door.
‘Confinement, solitude. Seems nice, don’t you think?’ said Thompson, and I shook my head, nearly leaping back from the computer. ‘Any troublesome agents will be dealt with, throw them in there for a couple of days. I just signed off on it.’
‘You what?’ I exclaimed, my throat becoming dry and itchy as I tried to calm my breathing.
A prison, that’s what they were building. Who needed punishments when you could just throw us in a cell. If we were injured would we be seen to first? What if it was severe?
‘What can I do?’ he asked. ‘I’m just a teacher, I sign off on plans, I sign off on the budget sheet. It’s just my job.’
‘You could have said no!’ I practically yelled in his face.
I presumed it was because his veins contained more alcohol than blood, but Mr Thompson didn’t even seem to care.
‘What would have been the point?’
I stopped: the point? Did I have to spell it out for him? This was meant to be an institution of learning but now it was one of torture, and fast becoming a living hell. I knew Willow wouldn’t want to be here; maybe she was in a better place after all.
Were we better off mindless or dead?
Darling, I’m meant to be the dramatic one here, Willow whispered in my ear.
‘Shut up!’ I yelled, my fingers clawing at my head.
A cold wet hand pressed on my shoulder and I slowly looked up to see Mr Thompson’s stoic expression. Then he picked up the half-empty bottle, handing it to me.
‘No shame in it, I hear voices too. After Duke shot my wife.’
My nails clenched the bottle tighter as I spoke. ‘You told me she died in a car accident.’
‘Do you think he would let me live if I told anyone otherwise?’
The cool glass of the bottle slipped through my fingers, clattering to the floor. None of this made sense.
If I ever left the Academy they would throw my mother out onto the streets without protection. I thought it was the staff who blackmailed us, but apparently they did it to one another. Then on top there was Harkness, superior and untouchable.
Is that why none of them left? Is that why some were kinder than the rest? Were they prisoners here just like us?
CHAPTER 20
Repentance
Remorse about one’s sin.
GRACE ASPIN
I woke up around seven. I say that, I didn’t leave the bed until half past. It was just one of those things.
The day before, I’d felt as if the sacred soul deep inside had left my body. I may have taken one too many pills and let me just say I felt their effects – maybe not straight away, but as soon as I stepped foot on the ward it was like I was floating above my own body, an observer to my own life. Then, nothing.
David – I mean Dr McKay, told me that Jess experienced some memory loss as well, so whatever was in this drug made sure we would forget. I prayed that it would all come to an end soon – how far could they realistically go with this? Not much further by my calculations. With Naomi here, maybe those limitations could be pushed – this had never happened before, so the outcome was impossible to predict, but possible to hypothesize.
I sat down at my dressing table grabbing a brush from the drawer, I really ought to get a new hairbrush since this one was made in the dark ages. It’s been passed through the Aspin line and I was not going to throw it away, well I was actually, it wasn’t like my grandmother would ever find out.
Quinn had said something about borrowing it because it matched her aesthetic – I swear if she wasn’t in the Academy she would be an influencer of some sort.
I’d slept with my hair up so it was more knotted than usual; I hadn’t bothered with my usual routine. After we’d eaten all I could think about was sleep – maybe it was the drugs or a food coma, I didn’t know and didn’t care, because my thoughts were elsewhere.
You can’t tell anyone about this. His voice rang clear, as I relived yesterday morning. I stared in the mirror, my fingers tracing the boundaries of my lips, then I inched them deeper towards the centre. I couldn’t remember much of yesterday but I did remember that the time was nine thirty-five, the curtains were drawn, patient files sat neatly at the side of the desk and Dr Williams was doing his wards round. If I were to be exact, I specifically remember Dr McKay’s hand up my scrub top and his lips crashing against mine, filled with lust and passion. Ten minutes later he was in next to nothing while I quickly slid my bra back on.
I won’t if you don’t. I’d said in return.
A married man had experience, nothing wrong with that.
Of course there was the issue of his wife but she was a cunt, she had the audacity to accuse him of cheating when it was her who had done the deed in the first place! He was just getting even and I understood that, this wasn’t anything more than sex.
Now, my mother would smack me around the head if she ever found out, and I couldn’t even imagine the lecture from my dad or the amount of praying he’d force me through. For the entirety of my stay here at this facility, I had questioned my faith on more than one occasion. I was always filled with questions of Why would God allow this to happen? and How could He let people like us suffer? I was taught that our souls were immortal and would transcend our earthly bodies, then we’d be resurrected at the end of time. I was raised under the eyes of the Vatican, my whole life had been planned out since my mother discovered she was with child. I was baptised as my first sacrament and raised a Roman Catholic. Anytime I rebelled at home my father threatened to send me to a nunnery, but once I proclaimed my intention to become a doctor, those threats faded.
As I stared at myself in the mirror I wondered, would my soul ever ascend to heaven or was I too far gone from God? Would I be damned to hell? As the pills continued to corrupt my mind it felt like I was condemning my soul. But I wouldn’t stop, I couldn’t, there was too much at stake. If I was found with too little in my system they would force me to take a double dose, and who would I be then?
I had already committed murder, which was a mortal sin – but where could I repent? I couldn’t go to confession; I was under oath not to speak a word of any operations on penalty of death. If I told anyone what happened, then the Academy would know about it. I saw what they’d done to that poor friend of Quinn’s, I wasn’t going to let the same befall an innocent priest.
Was God even real? How would He let this happen? Was there some sort of lesson to be learned?
I didn’t have any crosses in my room but the rest of the girls knew about my faith; they’d even asked me to pray for them in the past. I knew they thought it was a load of nonsense but I didn’t. My religion made sense and it brought me comfort, but after the incident at the theatre, all I felt was guilt. The man I shot had killed another so Jess tried to make me feel better by saying he deserved to die, but it brought me little consolation. I had taken another life. That power should have remained with God, but I’d done it anyway. I had committed a mortal sin. What would become of me? Purgatory or hell?
As I placed the brush back in the drawer I paused – what was that? At the back there was a small white piece of paper, tucked under that stupid handheld mirror my Aunt Sophia gave me. When did that get there? I always wrote on my laptop or tablet, never carried stationery. I reached in, pulling it back to reveal a long strip of lined paper that looked like it had been ripped out. It was crumpled but the words on it made the air catch in the back of my throat. They were in Willow’s handwriting.
Don’t trust Jessica, her mother works for the Pyramid Delegates.
She’s a monster, a murderer.
What the fuck?
Now Willow went on rants, and she and Jess didn’t have the best of relationships, but I would never go as far to say she was a monster. I would have taken her ramblings lightly, except Willow was dead and this
paper hadn’t faded so it was new – she must have put it in here before she died.
If this was her last confession then there would be no reason to lie. What did she know? Enough that she was too scared to say it to my face.
There was a knock at the door before it started to open, and I crushed the note in my hand. Oh God give me strength, it was Jessica. That must be a sign.
‘Hey,’ Jessica said, leaning on her good leg. ‘I just wanted to see if you were OK.’
‘Me? Course.’
‘My head is like scrambled egg,’ she said with a laugh, ‘speaking of which, do you want some for breakfast?’
‘No,’ I answered, ‘I’ll sort myself out, thanks.’
‘OK.’ She nodded, then a thought came to her. ‘Would you be able to check Lily over, says she has chest pain.’
I smiled. ‘Yeah, I’ll book her an appointment on the ward.’
‘Great.’ Jessica paused like she was going to say something else but decided against it. Then she closed the door.
I listened for her footsteps moving away before I opened the paper ball to reread the words.
Don’t trust Jessica, her mother works for the Pyramid Delegates.
She’s a monster, a murderer.
As I sat there, I knew. A dead girl wouldn’t lie.
CHAPTER 21
Kalon
Moral beauty.
NAOMI JADE
Punch, punch, dodge.
Punch, punch, dodge.
Punch, punch, dodge.
Punch, punch – Ow!
‘Oh my!’ Quinn cried. ‘I’m so sorry, are you OK?’
Did Quinn have pointy knuckles? Geez, I didn’t think she’d hit that hard. My back lay on the cool carpet as my cheek throbbed. It was official, I couldn’t do this for a living because someone would break my face.