The Unleashed Page 17
“Of course.” She beamed down at us before hopping off the sofa and heading to the kitchen.
Elena took my hand. “I don’t have much time,” she whispered. “Do not trust your mother. And don’t drink the tea.” She pressed a small square of folded paper into my hand.
“What happened to you?” I asked “What’s the real story?”
“I did get kidnapped, that’s true. They’ll tell you how the kidnapper was executed. That’s not true. The boy they killed helped me escape,” she said. “Listen; there are good people in the Resistance as well as bad. I can get you to the good ones so they can help you. I can’t tell you much else.” She squeezed my hand and a small tear escaped from her eye. “They killed my soul mate, Mina.”
As soon as she said it, I thought of Daniel, and my chest constricted. I’d give anything to see him – to know that he was okay.
“Right girls, choccy biccies?”
We broke contact and sat rigidly in our seats. Elena blinked away the tears. I’d never have imagined her crying. Elena was the strongest person I know, except maybe Mary or Ali.
“Sounds nice,” I said to Mum.
She passed me a cup of tea already poured, with the milk and sugar just how I like it. How many times had she made me tea at the GEM? Had I ever made my own? Or even made my own food? She was just always there, and because I wanted to know her, I never questioned it.
It was medicine and it made me better. I’d been ill, that’s all. The tea stopped the shakes from my flu. Mum just wanted to help me. Didn’t she? I searched my mind for the answers, but I felt like I’d forgotten something important. A scar itched on my arm, and I remembered a snake…
“Elena, perhaps you’d best get back to your duties now,” Mum said. “I need some quality time with my daughter.”
“Of course, Mrs Hart.” Elena stood and straightened out her lab coat. Only I could tell how fake the smile was on her face. I’d forgotten how good Elena was at acting.
“Really, call me Anna.”
I glanced at Mum, who smiled just like Elena. A little too much like Elena. Was she acting too?
“Okay, Anna.” Elena rose from the sofa, and placed her untouched tea back onto the tray in the centre of the coffee table. “It was nice to meet you, Mina. I’d like to get to know you more while I’m working here.”
“I’d like that,” I said.
Elena left me alone with Mum. A week ago I would have relished the time alone with her. Now, I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what she wanted. It seemed like she had an agenda. I just didn’t want to believe it.
“We need to talk,” Mum said.
“Is it about me joining the army?” I asked.
“No, not really,” she said. “It’s more about us recruiting even further. You see, if we have any hope in defeating the horrible decapitators, we need to make sure that we’re strong enough.”
“Where do I come into that?” I asked. I sipped my tea, trying to work out if it tasted funny.
“You know four very powerful people, and I want you to bring them here.”
“The Freaks?” I said. “You want me to bring them to the GEM?”
“Yes,” she said. “But it’s going to take time. I don’t think they’ll trust me at first, and I know they have ties with the Resistance. You’ll have to be really persuasive to get them to join us.”
“Hiro knows when someone is lying. He hears the bad inside them.” I paused, meeting my mother’s eyes. For just a moment I thought I saw a flicker of fear. “You’ll have nothing to worry about. Hiro will be able to show the others how you want peace and how corrupt the Resistance is.”
Mum’s smile froze on her face. “That’s true, Mina.”
I glanced up at the large screen on the wall of the apartment. I’d been avoiding it because it just reminded me of the beheading scene.
“Turn it up,” I said. “Something’s happened.”
A shaky camera moved through a blur of rubble, rocks and smoke. It followed a blonde haired girl as she bandaged up a wounded man. I moved closer to the screen, seeing that the images portrayed the wreckage of an explosion, and my mind flashed back to Hamish’s battle.
“What’s happened?” I said.
“Resistance,” Mum replied. “They bomb London all the time.”
I watched as injured men and women were pulled from the rubble, sick to my stomach of pain and suffering. Just as I was about to tell Mum to switch it off, I noticed something that made my heart leap into my mouth. Daniel. He ran through the wreckage, helping the blonde girl as she deftly bandaged and soothed the ill.
“He’s here,” I said. I leapt up from my seat and moved to the screen, touching it with the palm of my hand. “He’s okay and he’s in London!”
“And yet he’s not come for you, Mina,” Mum said.
I withdrew from the screen. Daniel knelt amongst the rubble helping the injured, and the blonde girl with him stared at him in a way that seemed too personal. Who gave her the right to gaze at him like that?
“And who is that girl he’s with? She’s very beautiful.”
More than once their eyes met or their fingers touched. “Stop it.”
“What’s the matter?” Mum said. She brought me my tea and held it out for me. “You don’t think something’s going on between the two of them, do you?”
Daniel lifted a girl from the rubble. Dirt coated his face and I saw his sea-blue eyes darken like thunderstorms. My heart quickened.
“Turn it off,” I said. “I don’t want to watch anymore.”
“He’s working with the beheaders now,” Mum said. “You need to get him here before it’s too late.” She switched the screen to another channel. “Unless it already is. Drink your tea, sweetheart.”
I clenched my fists, the same hatred seeping into my veins as when I trained. Not again. I’d been hurt and lied to by my dad. I wouldn’t let it happen again.
I took the teacup from her and drank it all down.
27 ~ Angela ~
Angela woke from a deep sleep, and found Cam’s warm body next to her. It was like being in the Compound again.
The others snored softly, purring against the concrete floor. Like every morning in the cells, the prisoners clanged against the metal bars and cried out in their sleep. A thin strip of light reflected through the prison cell and into Angela’s eyes, the only peek of sunlight through the filthy window high up above their heads.
Her back straightened as the sound of heavy boot-steps drifted around the corner of the jail, and keys jangled. Cam woke and climbed to his feet to put himself between Angela and the cell bars. He appeared immediately alert and on guard. Sebastian and Ginge both stirred in time to see the guards approaching; Sebastian’s eyes ringed with dark circles, and his arms hung loosely at his sides. He seemed like a broken man. Ginge stood tall with her shoulders back. Her breath came quickly through her lungs – her chest moving up and down at a rapid rate.
Vincent Cole followed the guards, and Angela searched his face for any trace of remorse or some modicum of humanity. It was a mask. Edward arrived at his side, with a smirk for the four hostages.
The noise of metal against metal sang out through the cell as the guard thrust the key into the prison lock. Despite trying to remain calm, Angela’s stomach clenched with fear. Whatever happened next she wanted to be attentive and ready for anything, but adrenaline pumped through her body – impeding her ability to think straight. There was something about the mask-like expression and the red rings around Vincent’s eyes that worried her.
Cam’s back squared as the cell opened to let the guards flood in. They raised their batons and approached. Angela knew what he was going to do and she didn’t stop him, even though it was pointless. Why not let him fight? What if he won?
A good punch clipped one of the guards on the chin, and he fell backwards, almost knocking another two to the ground. In return, a guard raised his baton and brought it down on Cam’s arm. He cried out in pain
. Angela rushed forwards and felt the short, sharp slap of a guard’s rough hand against her cheek. As she fell hard against the jail railings, Ginge lunged at the guard, but despite some quick dodges – and a punch to the kidneys – they were brought under the control of cuffs.
The guard pushed Angela firmly against the bars; metal pressed to her skin. He slipped the cuffs over her wrists. All the time she maintained eye contact with Vincent Cole. She dared him to watch. She wanted him to see exactly what he’d done to four teenagers. Because it wasn’t like any other morning at all. It was the morning they were going to die.
*
A warm breeze tickled at her neck and the sun hurt her eyes. It was a beautiful day, with the cyan sky and cumulous clouds overhead.
The guard pressed his gun into her back and shoved her along the cobbled courtyard. She tripped over the loose stones and blinked sweat from her eyes. The courtyard stretched the length of the Border Security Headquarters, which was positioned high up and over facing Area 14. When Angela surveyed her old home spread beneath them, the tears finally came. She would never see her mother again. Not unless she convinced Vincent to stop the execution.
After being forced to their knees overlooking the town below, Angela glared at Vincent. He’d hung back with Edward, but the fact he was there at all gave her hope. She had Cam next to her. He turned and nodded his head. He had faith in her. She could do this.
“Vincent,” she called out, craning her neck painfully to the right. His heavy lidded eyes regarded her coolly. Had he been crying? “I think you should kill your son yourself. It’s the least you can do.”
“No,” Vincent replied. His hands balled into fists.
Edward put a hand on Vincent’s shoulder, just like Angela thought he would. “The girl has a point.” He pushed Vincent into the sunlight, his eyes flashing with cruelty. “He is your son. You created him; I think it would be fitting for you to destroy him.”
Vincent flinched as Edward took a rifle from the marksman and put it into his hand. Angela imagined the bullets nestled inside, waiting to be released into her brain. Her breath caught in her throat and her guts loosened at the thought. She wouldn’t let the fear come. Cam nodded her on. It was working and she shouldn’t give up.
“It’s okay, Vincent. We deserve it. We fled Area 14, and that has always been a crime. You helped us flee – that’s okay – you were saving your son. You had honourable intentions. And now you have the same honourable intentions – protecting your town. The weight of the town is on your shoulders. Just you.” Vincent approached slowly with his eyes fixed on his son.
Sebastian knelt with a straight back. He stared intently at Ginge. He seemed to take in her face one last time.
“You make the decisions,” Angela continued. “No one else.” Her head indicated Edward, hoping that Vincent would follow her. It was her only hope. If she could make him see how Edward manipulated him, maybe they’d be saved.
Vincent didn’t reply but his hands trembled. He stopped a few feet from the four kneeling teenagers, and raised the gun towards Sebastian. A trickle of sweat wormed its way down Angela’s forehead. She turned to Cam in a panic. She was a fool to try and manipulate him. Her heart hammered against her chest. She had nothing left, nothing to say to stop him killing his own son.
“Ye cannae do this,” Ginge said. She shuffled on her knees, trying to rise. The guard advanced and hit her back down. “No! No, ah won’t accept it. Ah won’t die today. Not from ye basterd scum. An’ if ah do die ye’d best watch ye back, ‘cause ah’ll haunt ye ‘til ye shit ye pants wi’fear. Ah’ll haunt ye ‘til ah make ye mad an’ ye gouge ye own eyes out.” Her voice shook with anger.
Vincent flicked off the safety catch, and Angela screwed up her eyes. She couldn’t watch.
Her ears thudded with her own pulse as her blood roared through her veins. A number of morbid thoughts flashed through her mind: she’d never see her mother again; she’d never start a family; would she lose her bowels when she died? Then she thought of the people she loved: waking up to Cam; the sleepovers with Mina after school; tea with Mum and Daniel.
She screwed her eyes tighter and sweat snaked down between her shoulder blades. Time stood still, and yet it was too fleeting. Thud… thud… thud… went her heart. Nothing happened. Then, finally came the sickening crack as the gun fired. Her body jolted and she let out a loud, heart-wrenching sob, bending down to the ground, waiting for her own death. She’d never open her eyes again; instead she’d enter the darkness in darkness.
“Open yer eyes,” Cam whispered. “Open them and turn around.”
“I don’t want to see,” Angela sobbed. Tears streamed down her face. “I don’t want to see him.”
“Open your eyes.”
Angela began to doubt herself. Had she been shot? Was she in heaven with Cam? Maybe it really did exist. She opened her eyes and saw the same spread of towns and fields she knew to be Area 14. Cam indicated for her to turn around and she did. Edward lay face down on the stones, bleeding from his head. Sebastian stared at his father with his mouth wide open. Ginge leaned against his shoulder. Around them stood the guards, casting fleeting glances at each other and unsure whether to arrest Vincent or wait for orders.
“Wha–what… It worked? I talked him out of it?”
Cam leaned in and nudged her with his forehead. “It worked. Yer incredible, Ange.”
A weight lifted from Angela’s chest. She had another chance. She was alive. They all were. Vincent had chosen them over Edward. She laughed, crying at the same time, wishing her hands were free so she could hold Cam in her arms. She had another chance to live her life with Cam; to see and do everything she’d always wanted.
“Thank you,” Angela said to Vincent, who stood still as a statue, staring at the lifeless body of the man who had almost persuaded him to kill his own son.
Vincent hardly registered Angela. He just nodded. “Guards, release them.”
The security guards hurried forwards with their keys ready. Angela moved so they could reach her hands, and then rubbed her wrists when they were released. As soon as they freed Cam, she flung her arms around his neck; holding her close to him; letting tears flow over her cheeks and onto his shoulders. It was only then that she realised just how close they’d come, and how much she wanted to live. She never wanted to let him go.
Angela felt a tap on her shoulder and reluctantly pulled away. She saw Sebastian, his eyes red raw from tears, and emotion. “I don’t know what I can say. I just… I just don’t know––”
Angela opened her mouth to tell him to go and talk to his father – that they needed to sort out everything that had gone on between them. She wanted to say that she thought there was something redeemable in Vincent because she knew about redemption. She’d needed it herself when she let the jealousy take over. But she didn’t get time to say any of those things because the battle cry of dozens of men stopped her.
The prisoners emerged from the headquarters, swinging metal bars and chains. Behind them followed an army of hundreds, swamping the tiny courtyard. The guards hardly had time to act before the men were upon them. Angela watched the chaos in complete shock – her feet frozen to the cobbled ground.
A man strode through the crowd. He wore long leather boots and tattered jeans. Coarse salt and pepper hair sprouted from his chin, and he had the red face of a man who worked outdoors.
He continued through the fighting as though taking a walk in the park, and moved directly up to Sebastian’s father. His arm raised. Angela stumbled towards him. She saw the gun in his hand.
“No!” shouted Sebastian.
Vincent tried to lift his rifle but the man was quicker. Angela and Sebastian both burst forwards just as he pulled the trigger, spraying the ground with red. Sebastian collapsed, Ginge folding with him, holding his head in her arms. Angela dodged away from Cam as she ran straight for the gunman.
“What’ve you done?” she screamed at him. “What’ve you done?”
&
nbsp; He stepped towards her, and Angela realised she knew him and he knew her. They were neighbours. In fact, she knew many of these men; they worked in the markets or lived a few streets down. These people weren’t Resistance. They were Blemished.
“Alfred?” she said in disbelief.
He looked her up and down. “You’d best get out of here. Go back to your mother. We’ve business to take care of.”
He tried to walk away but Angela moved ahead of him. “You murdered a man.”
“I just executed a war criminal. We’re taking back Area 14.” He gestured to his men. “Restrain them.”
Ginge tried to fight off the man pulling Sebastian away from his father. She took a punch to the chin and staggered back. Cam lunged at the man coming for Angela, knocking him to the ground. They fell together with a thud against the cobbles. At the same time a bunch of fighters fell upon him and fists flew as Angela stood in horror. They lifted a bloodied Cam from the courtyard floor. He squirmed and fought against their grip, his face reddening in frustration as they tied his hands. In a blur, Angela found her wrists bound together and a gun jabbed in her back. Tears pricked her eyes. They’d been so close. Her eyes trailed the destruction around her: dead guards bleeding over the stones; looters dragging belongings out onto the courtyard.
With a malicious grin Alfred hopped up onto the low wall surrounding the courtyard. “Rot in hell, Vincent Cole! The vilest Commander we’ve ever known.” His men cheered. “And now we leave this god-forsaken place and join the Resistance in London to show the bastard GEM exactly what the Blemished can do, because now is the time for change. Now is the time to stand up and be counted. You’ve seen the broadcasts, you’ve seen the bombs, and you’ve seen the power of the Resistance. It’s time to take back our country before it’s too late.”
A roar of cheers broke out, and Angela’s skin prickled with goose bumps. She watched as the men raised their weapons in the air and chanted, “Four-teen, four-teen, four-teen…”
28 ~ Daniel ~