The Blind Spot

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The Blind Spot Page 19

by Michael Robertson


  A hard exhale, Marcie turned her back on the restaurant and elbowed her way through the crowd. “You’re right. Fantastic.”

  “Thank you. If we don’t do this soon, there won’t be a Blind Spot or city left. On the plus side, I suppose it will stop you agonising over where you want to live. We’ll all be on a deadly pilgrimage through the wastelands to Prime City.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I never said it was.”

  Chapter 49

  If Nick hid, they might go away. Even in the bright morning, the blue flashing lights bounced off the white surfaces in his kitchen as if they performed a preliminary sweep of his house. The car lowered into his driveway while he backed out of the room. Although, where would he go? One scan of his house and they’d pinpoint his exact location. They’d drag him out of his hole in front of what had to be a growing crowd outside. Bad enough they would see him getting arrested, he didn’t need to be presented to them like a pathetic wretch. A Pandora freak.

  A roll of his shoulders, Nick lifted both his chest and chin and stopped. He’d chosen the hack, and now he had to face the consequences. Although, no matter how erect he stood, it did nothing to ease the tremble running through him. He’d tell them he hadn’t used it yet. But would they care? What if they turned him into an obsolete? If they did, at least he wouldn’t know what he’d lost. A wiped mind couldn’t grieve for what it had forgotten.

  No point in hiding, Nick walked towards the kitchen window. His heart lifted and he ran to the back door.

  Relief, nothing more, and he needed to make sure it didn’t look like he was gloating. He took cautious steps along the gravel driveway. The police had left Doug’s front door open. Had he taken the Pandora hack too? Nick had never trusted his neighbour. A lonely man, living on his own, very private. Something had to be amiss.

  Three officers dragged Doug out by his ankles. He twisted and turned and kicked his legs, but they held on. His shirt rode up, his bare back cutting a trail through the gravel.

  After Doug twisted particularly violently, one of the officers kicked him and the other two piled in. A flurry of blows hammered deep thuds against his body, and when Nick saw the police draw their batons, he nearly called out. But you didn’t fuck with the Scala City police. Everyone knew that. Including Doug.

  The police beat Doug limp, but they didn’t stop.

  A crowd had gathered by Nick’s front gate. Many of them watched on with open mouths, their morning commute halted by the spectacle.

  Clearly for the benefit of the crowd because they’d not left Doug in any fit state, one of the officers shouted, “Doug Salamander, I’m arresting you on suspicion of terrorist activity. Although the Blind Spot are the number one suspects for the attacks in the city, we have strong evidence linking you to them.”

  Nick gasped. When one of the officers turned his way, he stepped back towards his house. A terrorist? A loner, sure, but not a terrorist. Although, who really knew their neighbours? Nick did the same as everyone else. He sold himself the illusion that his neighbour was a good man. At least nothing that weird. How else would he have slept at night?

  The cold turned Nick’s toes numb. He’d seen enough. Did he really need to gawk like the people outside the gate? He returned to his house, the front door still open from where he’d rushed out.

  A piece of paper lay on the kitchen floor. It looked like a sheet from Karla’s diary. Just picking it up made the lump in his throat burn all over again. No doubt, over the next few weeks and months, he’d get little reminders of the life he’d once had with a woman he had no chance of landing again. Their lives had been intertwined for so long. The window threw his reflection back at him. A sad, fat fuck. Why would anyone be interested in him? The lack of lifts that morning showed just how much he meant to people.

  A patch of crayon had been scribbled in one corner of the page. It revealed the indentations of what had been written on the sheet before. Hard to read, and maybe he didn’t want to believe it, but it definitely said Wellbeing Stand in Wellbeing Square.

  After he’d closed his front door, Nick grabbed a red candle from the drawer and he rubbed the rest of the paper. It revealed more writing. The next place read The Proxy Cinema. Quickened breaths and sweat lifting beneath his collar.

  Two more places rounded out the list. The Apollo Tower and The … He couldn’t read the rest. The list was not in Karla’s writing, but Bruce’s. He had something to do with the attacks. And if Nick didn’t get to Karla, she’d get dragged down with him. If he could save her before it was too late, maybe she’d take him back.

  Chapter 50

  Just another person in the crowd, the blue glasses were no more than a fashion statement when coupled with a power suit and a pout. The people around Marcie shoved and bumped her as she pushed back through them to the front. She’d been with the crowd as they watched the police turn up at the man’s house and smash his door in. When they dragged him out kicking and screaming. When they beat him unconscious. She’d even smelled rancid flatulence when the police went to town on him, the sight clearly too much for someone to take.

  Many in the crowd would have focused on the beating, but Marcie focused on her real reason for being there: the neighbour. He’d walked out onto his gravel driveway without any shoes on. The fat man hugged himself for warmth. Life had been cruel to him, and he didn’t even know the half of it. He’d find out soon enough.

  No one paid Marcie any mind when she vanished. The open front door meant she could force the skylight without triggering an alarm. A flaw in the system, which had never been exploited until the Eye found the reports on the security company’s network. Apparently, it had been buried so deep it took him over a day to find it. But worth it. They needed to be stealthy. No way would the fat man trust a red-eyed girl from the Blind Spot. They needed to get him the information in a way he could process. Drip-feed him a little bit at a time, arming him with all the facts before they needed to use him. Also, by showing him what the police did to terrorists, hopefully they’d just given him the motivation to act.

  Marcie had rejoined the crowd before the man walked back into his house, her breathing slightly heavier than before. “Well done,” the Eye said.

  The police dragged the flaccid neighbour into a meat wagon. Again, the Eye spoke to her. “I’ll make sure I clear his name before it’s too late. He’s served his purpose.”

  The fat man threw scorn at the onlookers before slamming his door. What would he do when he went back inside?

  Marcie left the crowd and headed back in the direction of the Blind Spot.

  “What are you going to say to your dad?” the Eye said.

  “The footage from Friday has definitely been aired?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t know. I suppose I need to see what his reaction is. Whatever happens, I need to make sure he doesn’t get in the way of us fixing this.”

  “You could tell him.”

  “Tell him what? I have nothing concrete to share with him, and there’s no way he’d condone what we’re doing.”

  “It makes me uneasy when you say we.”

  “Don’t worry, I have your back.”

  “I hope so. Wrench has a reputation, you know?”

  “No shit!”

  Chapter 51

  Because of the explosion at the restaurant, Scala City had been shut down for the day in case there were any more attacks. God knew Nick needed it after finding the sheet from Karla’s diary. The decision makers worried the empty restaurant had been used as a diversion. That the terrorists had bigger plans. And they did. Namely, the Apollo Tower: the biggest target in the city.

  The message giving everyone a day off also urged the citizens to remain in their homes, but Nick walked the near silent streets. No cars, no commuters, no lifts sent into the air. The Apollo Tower over to his left. The thing visible no matter where you were in the city.

  A bounce in his step, Nick said, “Karla’s amazing. It doesn’t m
atter what’s gone on, I’ll take her back in a heartbeat. She doesn’t deserve to be caught up with Bruce and his nonsense. I’m here for her and always will be. She’ll see that when I show her what I know.”

  Of course she’d come back to him. Why wouldn’t she? As he passed a mirrored window in a chrome tower block, the glass distorted his reflection and made him look even wider. Even the architecture mocked him in this place. But she’d take him back. She knew what he had on the inside, and that mattered more.

  Bruce lived in a nicer house than Nick, on a nicer street. Of course he did. Since they were kids, Bruce had always had more. Better clothes, a bigger home, more girlfriends, more friends. Four stories tall, it had two living rooms and garden space. The house’s large widows would tint at the click of a button. The front room had been modelled on an old ballroom.

  What was he doing here? He should just leave. Go home before he made a fool of himself. He’d been stupid to come here in the first place with a sheet of paper that said, well, what did it really say? But he had to do this. He couldn’t let Karla go down with Bruce’s nonsense. Even if she didn’t come back to him, she needed to see he’d attempted to help. She’d thank him in the long run.

  The piece of paper was in his pocket because his sweating palms would turn it to mush. It only detailed the places that had been attacked. Everyone knew where had been attacked. Sure, it mentioned the Apollo Tower, but he could call that speculation at best. Maybe Bruce had written the places down for an entirely different reason. But writing something down in Scala City at least proved he had something to hide. Otherwise, he could have said it.

  Nick pressed Bruce’s buzzer with a shaking hand. The loud single note threw an aggressive quack at him. His heart racing, he stood before Bruce’s front door and tapped out a beat against his thighs. Maybe he should go before someone answered.

  The intercom—a small silver speaker—emitted a crackly approximation of Bruce’s voice. “Yeah?”

  Such a slob, who answered their intercom in that way? “I want to talk to Karla.”

  After a few seconds, Nick pressed the buzzer again. The loud and flat honk called into the abandoned city.

  A slight hiss of the speaker connecting, Bruce said, “I heard you, Nick. I chose not to respond.”

  “I want to speak to Karla.”

  “About what?”

  “It’s got nothing to do with you.”

  “You’re outside my house.”

  “I want to speak to Karla.”

  “Nick?”

  Her voice took the air from his lungs. “Karla, thank you. I have something I need—”

  “Fuck off, Nick.”

  The words delivered a gut punch and he stumbled back. Although he opened and closed his mouth, nothing came out.

  Nick pulled the piece of paper from his pocket and read the next location. The Apollo Tower. Maybe he needed to hand it to the authorities? But if he did that, the police would question him too. The jealous ex-boyfriend. It didn’t exactly look good. And from what he’d seen his entire life—most recently with Doug—it didn’t take much to be on the receiving end of a beating in Scala City. The police acted like they had a quota they had to meet for turning people into obsoletes. Poor Doug. He’d never see him again. And really, what evidence was a list of places? Maybe he could tell Adam. At least he could give his friend a heads-up. His friend who hadn’t mentioned him since he’d left. His friend who’d dropped him the second he’d started his new job. His friend who didn’t need him anymore.

  “You still there?” Bruce’s voice this time. “Didn’t you hear her, Nick? She said fuck off!”

  The streets were as empty now as they had been moments before. Most people had obviously listened to the advice about remaining at home. It didn’t matter what Nick had on Bruce because it wouldn’t be enough to convince anyone of anything. Not Karla, not the police, and probably not Adam. And why the fuck should he contact Adam?

  Nick turned his back on Bruce’s house. Hopefully he was a terrorist and Karla would get dragged down with him. He’d tried to warn her, and she’d made her choice. She could go to hell. Give it a few weeks and they’d both be shaved bald with an O tattooed in the centre of their foreheads. And they fucking deserved it.

  Chapter 52

  The message had to come at some point. At least Marcie had returned to the Blind Spot and could get there quickly. It read: TOP TABLE NOW! WE HAVE SHIT WE NEED TO SORT OUT.

  That shit obviously being Marcie and how she’d incriminated the Blind Spot more than Frankie ever could. In trying to take down the rat, she’d strengthened his cause.

  Nausea writhed in Marcie’s stomach as the shadows on either side of the dark alleyway closed in. A sweep with her night vision had shown the place to be clear, so she fixed on the locked steel door at the end. One of the many times where her legs did the work for her. One foot in front of the other, the cybernetic shifts and twitches marched her forwards.

  Three heavy knocks against the steel door.

  When Jean opened it, Marcie’s heart lifted. “Thank god it’s you.”

  Jean’s beauty radiated from her smile as she pulled the door wide.

  Just before Marcie entered the meeting room, Jean tugged on the back of her coat. “Let me hang that up for you with the others.”

  Any warmth she’d felt from Jean’s kindness dissipated the second she stepped through the door. Of course everyone else had made it there already. She always turned up last. Without knocking, she snapped the handle down so hard it made a loud crack!

  The entire table watched Marcie walk in. She could deal with Frankie’s anger, but she hadn’t often been fixed with disdain from her dad’s organic eye. She’d fucked up big time, and they were queuing up to make sure she knew it.

  Before Marcie took her seat, her dad said, “They might have suspected the Blind Spot for doing the attacks, but they had nothing on us. But now, if they want a reason to go to war, you’ve just given it to them. We all know that explosion had nothing to do with you, but it’s hard to deny when you led the entirety of Scala City’s police force on a destructive chase.”

  “It’s a wonder none of them died,” Frankie said.

  Marcie sat down and kept her mouth shut. What could she say? She still didn’t have any evidence linking the gold bolts to Frankie.

  Frankie leaned on the dark wooden table. “And people will die because of you. All I want to do is protect my family, and you’ve jeopardised that. We all knew you went running through the city to both check it out as somewhere to live, and to take my son with you. But you didn’t even take him this time. I get it, he can’t come if you move, and you don’t want to upset him any more than you already have, but we’re going to have to go to war now just because you wanted to check out your new home again. Couldn’t you have waited?”

  Disgust stared back at Marcie from every person around the table. Even the Monk.

  Jean broke the tension when she walked in. “Sorry,” she said and took her seat next to Marcie. She squeezed the girl’s hand and pulled a tight-lipped smile. At least she had someone on her side.

  “You’re not to leave the Blind Spot until this nonsense has died down,” Wrench said.

  Clunk! A heavy metal cuff hit the tabletop and skidded across it. Jean had thrown it down.

  “W-w-what’s that?” Marcie said.

  “A tag,” Frankie said. “So we know where you are at all times.”

  The breath left Marcie’s lungs. “I thought you were on my side, Jean?”

  “I am. This is for your own good. For the sake of the Blind Spot.”

  “Dad?”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we can’t have you jeopardising our safety any further. I worried you were too young to come to the top table. It’s a lot for a sixteen-year-old to deal with.”

  She’d been trying to help them and this is how they repaid her? “So you’re caging me again?”

  Wrench sagged where he sat. “I’m sorry, but even if
it’s not for your own good, it’s for the good of the Blind Spot. We have a responsibility to protect them.”

  “And I don’t want you spending any more time with Sal,” Frankie said.

  The lump in Marcie’s throat strangled her words. She expected to lose Sal. How could they move on when she exposed his dad? But she hadn’t expected to lose him so soon.

  The loud boom of Wrench slamming his fist against the table made Marcie jump. “We’ve made our point and have taken appropriate action. We now need to wait and see what the city plan to do in response to the attack on the restaurant.”

  Shank snapped her knives into her hands. Each blade glistened in the weak light. “We’re going to war, ain’t no two ways about it.”

  Not if Marcie had any say in the matter.

  “Let’s just wait and see,” Pierre said. “They haven’t pulled the trigger yet.”

  “And they know what will come down on them if they do,” Jean said. Although she sat beside her, Marcie couldn’t look at the woman. She’d expected the others to turn, even her dad, but she’d trusted Jean.

  Wrench drew a deep breath and sighed. “Anything else? Has your brother returned yet, Pierre?”

  Pierre clamped his jaw and shook his head.

  Shank patted his back. “We’ll find out where he is. And if someone’s screwed him over, we’ll make sure they’re punished.”

  Hopefully the heat beneath Marcie’s cheeks didn’t look as obvious as it felt. A tug on her collar as if it would help her breathe better, she squirmed where she sat. The sooner she got out of that room, the better. None of them understood what she had to do, and none of them could be of any help.

  Chapter 53

  It had been several hours since Karla and Bruce had told Nick to fuck off. A slow and cold walk home, he’d spent the rest of his time at the breakfast bar, watching the large clock on his wall. The longest he’d managed between checks, he made it to five minutes this time before he pressed the Wellbeing app on his phone.

 

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