Impersonator (Forager Impersonator - A Post Apocalyptic Trilogy Book 1) (26 page)

“Elder Sister?” Karen said between sobs.

Remembering the promise I made Brandon and how little time I had left in which to carry it through, I clawed my way back to the world of the living. “He’s gone, Karen. Now come, we have to go.” I stood, grimacing from the pain in my leg, and pulled her to her feet. Spotting my cap on the floor, I scooped it up and put it on.

“Go? Go where – we can’t leave him here?”

“We have to get to the breakout right away or we’re gonna miss out,” I said. Using echolocation, I watched her shake her head emphatically. “It’s what he wanted, Karen!”

She still wouldn’t move, and having no time for pleasantries, I pulled her roughly after me. When we got outside, I noticed that the thug I rendered unconscious had a knife wound in his chest. Courtesy of Brandon, no doubt.

Spotting my brother’s bag beside the backdoor, a quick ultrasonic scan revealed the items he had planned to use to stop the murderers. I unzipped the bag and took out three capped syringes he must have stolen from the hospital. According to their labels, they were filled with anaesthetic – presumably enough to knock out a grown man. I would just have to trust that Brandon knew what he was doing.

I put the syringes in my pocket and pulled Karen close. “Stay with me and do exactly what I do. If we bump into a Custodian patrol the only place we will be going is jail.”

Although suffering from shock, Karen somehow managed to nod and we were off, first retrieving our backpacks, and then sticking to the shadows and avoiding the street lamps as much as possible. I had my senses on full alert and concentrated on listening for any sign of Custodians, using this activity as a distraction to keep from dwelling on Brandon’s tragic demise. I need not have worried though, for we encountered none. The distraction was obviously doing its job in pulling all the Custodians over to the other side of town.

The eastern gatehouse wasn’t far from the snooker club, so we reached the rendezvous point fifteen minutes later. Picking our way carefully through hedges, flower gardens and small vegetable patches, we came across a small crowd of foragers and their families – several dozen of them – that had gathered secretly behind the ten-storey apartment block closest to the gates.

Con, Matt and Jack stood near the corner with several other foragers. A freckled teenage girl stood in their midst. They were putting bright red tomato sauce on her face, arms, and clothes to make it look like she had been attacked. So she was the one who would approach the guards to distract them. It occurred to me that I fitted the part, since I was already covered with blood and was one big walking wound.

I looked out for Sofia, hoping against hope that Brandon had been able to get her here before he doubled back to help me. For one terrifying moment, I thought she wasn’t here, but then spotted her at the back, looking into the night, waiting for us.

“Sofia! You sure are a sight for sore eyes,” I whispered as I took her hands in mine.

“You made it!” I had never seen her so relieved. But then she frowned. “Where’s your brother?”

My face clouded over, and Karen sobbed quietly. “He...didn’t make it,” I said.

Sofia squeezed my hand, and then Karen’s. “Oh no, I’m so sorry!”

“Thank you.” I gave her a quick hug and stepped back. “There’s something I have to do now, so stay close to Karen, okay? And remember, both of you, I’m Brandon.”

If I was going to stop Con, Jack and Matt, I had to get closer, so with Karen and Sofia in tow, I threaded my way through the crowd, which paid me no heed. The people were too busy adjusting their bags, checking their gear, and looking scared out of their wits, especially the family members. I felt a surge of pride knowing these people would be free of this prison town tonight because of me.

Jack spotted us first. “Whoa! What happened to you, Brandon?” he whispered. “Are you hurt? You’re limping something chronic!”

“You should see the other guys,” I replied. I was thankful it was pretty dark here behind the building, otherwise he would have freaked out big time since I was covered with blood.

“What other guys?” Matt asked, frowning as he caught sight of me.

“A couple of thugs trying to collect on my father's debts,” I said.

Matt suddenly grabbed me and twisted my head so the light from an apartment window above us fell onto the right side of my face. “You’ve got a real shiner forming there, mate. And what’s that, blood?”

I pushed his hands away. “It’s not mine.”

“What on earth happened?”

“Long story.”

Jack noticed Karen and Sofia behind me and smiled bashfully, before looking frantically all around. “Where’s Chelsea?”

“She’s isn't coming.”

“What? No, she has to!” He looked absolutely crestfallen.

“Sorry, she changed her mind. Wanted to–”

Con was suddenly in my face – and he wasn’t happy. I could tell he wanted to ask how I found out the breakout was tonight, but to do so would reveal his hand in attempting to deceive me. Plus, if I reacted badly it could create an ugly scene, something he needed to avoid with so many witnesses about.

“Where the blazes you been this week, Boy? You seriously expect us to believe you were sick for a whole week? Again?” he growled.

I drew up to my full height, grimaced from the extra weight on my battered leg, and looked up into his beady eyes, which glinted in the poor light. I was about to make an excuse that I hurt my arm, but recalled just in time that I already gave that explanation to Jack when he saw me as myself with my arm in a sling.

“We gonna stand here yabbering all day or we gonna get this show on the road?” I asked. I needed to get this over and done with before fear got the better of me.

Con sneered at me and turned back to the other foragers, who had just finished putting the finishing touches on the girl who would be the distraction. She looked a real fright: messed up hair, torn clothes, and covered in tomato sauce.

“All set?” he asked.

The foragers nodded.

“Do I have to do this? I’m scared.” The girl’s voice wavering. I wondered who she was.

“Just do exactly what we told you and you’ll be fine, Younger Sister,” Gerry said. So, his kid sister.

Con grabbed a walky-talky from his pocket, whispered into it, and nodded. “The guys on the other side of the gate are ready.”

“Okay, let’s do this!” Matt said. Immediately, a dozen strong, muscular foragers congregated around our position. They were armed with baseball bats, wooden clubs, expanding batons, and in Con’s case, a metal battering ram. A few of them, including Con and Gerry, had handguns tucked in the back of their trousers.

My heart was hammering away with such intensity I thought it would burst. I fingered the three syringes in my pocket. What if I didn’t find a suitable opportunity to knock them out? What if someone saw what I was doing and stopped me?

“Okay, Younger Sister, do your stuff!” Gerry said as he pushed his sister towards the corner.

But instead of cooperating, the poor girl turned around and clung to him for dear life. “I can’t do it!”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Con hissed. “You want me to hit her?”

“Come on, we’ve been through this.” Gerry was begging her now.

“Get her out there now, Gerry, or this whole plan’s off before it even starts!” Con said, starting to panic. And he was right, if we couldn’t distract the Custodians at the gate, this breakout attempt was going nowhere.

I turned to Karen and Sofia. “Stay at the rear with the other families.”

“What – why?” Karen asked, alarmed.

“Just do it!”

“Okay already!”

Sofia nodded, but looked just as concerned.

As they pushed their way back through the crowd, I turned to Con and the others.

“I’ll do it. I’ll distract the Custodians,” I said.

“Don’t be daft, Brandon,” Matt snapped.

Ignoring him, I hobbled past the building corner and into the light cast by the spotlights atop the gates. Now they could see my blood-soaked hands, face, and clothes.

“What the–” Matt said.

“Get back, Brandon, you fool - you’ll ruin everything!” Con hissed.

Turning to face them, I ripped off my cap and pulled out the hair tie fastening my hair into a ponytail. I shook my strawberry-blonde hair out over my shoulders and down my back, and turned in the light so they could see the birthmark above my left eye.

“Chelsea?” Jack gasped.

“But, no – that’s impossible!” Con stammered.

I flashed a wan smile at them, pulled my left hand from my pocket, and cradling the arm with the other, limped along the path that ran between the apartment block and the imposing twelve-foot town walls.

“Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” I heard Matt say from around the corner.

“Brandon is Chelsea! And she’s covered in blood!” Jack replied.

“I don’t understand!”

Following the curving path, I stepped past the building and into full view of the guard tower and gates. The Custodians in the tower would be looking out towards the ruins, so they wouldn’t pose a problem.

The five Custodians guarding the gates, however, noticed me immediately as I staggered towards them, dragging my aching right leg behind me. And as I was now fully illuminated by the spotlights and no longer wearing a cap, they could see everything. The bruise swelling on my check, the blood spattered all over me. I was the real deal.

“Halt or we will shoot!” the Custodian sergeant shouted. All five of them trained their guns on me.

I almost faltered then, for the Custodian officer was none other than Sergeant King. What were the odds it would be squad’s turn on guard duty tonight? Still, this could work in my favour.

“Sergeant King, help me!” I called out, my voice breaking from emotion. It was no act either, for my brother’s face, contorted in agony as he died, filled my mind.

King lowered his gun and approached me cautiously. “Chelsea Thomas? What the blazes happened to you? What are you doing out here?”

“I was attacked,” I gasped as I stumbled towards him.

The sergeant shouldered his gun and grabbed my arm, helping support my weight. The other four were suddenly surrounding me, concern mirrored on their faces.

“Who did this to you?” King demanded.

As I haltingly shared my tale of trying to rescue my sister from the syndicate thugs, and how they kicked and punched me when my rescue attempt failed, nine foragers crept out of the shadows on the far side of the road. The Custodians were so engrossed with my tale they had no idea of the peril they faced until the foragers were literally upon them, fists and clubs swinging.

Four went down immediately, knocked out, but King shrugged off his attackers and pulled the gun off his shoulder. He leaped back and was about to open fire, but I grabbed the gun with my right hand and with all my strength, tore it from his grasp.

King looked at me in disbelief, but then he ran out of time. Nine foragers descended on him and rendered him unconscious with a flurry of blows from their clubs.

The moment King fell, Con, Jack, and several other muscle-bound foragers came charging out from around the corner of the building. Armed with the battering ram, Con bounded up the steps to the guard tower two at a time. I watched him draw back the heavy metal ram and with one mighty blow, smash the door in. He immediately moved aside so Jack and the others could spring past him into the guard tower. I heard the sounds of a furious scuffle, and then silence reined.

The victorious foragers trotted back down the stairs.

“Anyone found the keys?” Con asked as they hurried over to join us.

A forager who had been rifling through Sergeant King’s many pockets stood and held up his hand, a set of keys dangling from his fingers.

“Right, get those gates open! Matt - get everyone over here, pronto! We go out together!” Con shouted.

A moment later Matt appeared, shepherding several dozen men, women, and children out from behind the building and towards the gate. I was relieved to see Karen and Sofia trotting along at the rear.

The foragers who overcame the first squad of Custodians removed the heavy crossbeam from the gates, while the guy with the keys struggled to slot them into the lock. Eighty or so people crowded around him, eager to take the first steps into freedom. Unfortunately, my job wasn’t done yet.

Slipping a syringe from my pocket, I thumbed off the cap and threaded my way through the crowd, looking for my targets. I found Jack first, now at the rear, helping shepherd everyone closer to the gates.

“Chelsea!” he exclaimed, his face alight with wonderment. “You did good! But how come you’re wearing Brandon’s clothes? Is that your blood? What happened to you?”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now, I need your help. Brandon’s over there, near the building, but he’s hurt. Can you give him a hand? He’s too heavy for me.”

“Hurt?”

“This is his blood.”

“What? How badly hurt is he?”

“Come!” I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him after me, leading him into the recessed entrance of the closest building, where we couldn’t be seen by the foragers and their families at the gates.

“Where is he?” He turned to face me, confused.

I stuck the needle in his stomach and pressed the plunger home.

The shocked, betrayed expression on his face was one I’d never forget. In spite of what he’d done, he had always been nice to me – whether in my Brandon alias or myself. Waves of guilt and relief assailed me in equal measure.

“What are you doing?” he drawled as his strength left him.

“Make a plea bargain with them, don’t go throwing your life away over nothing,” I whispered in his ear as I struggled to catch him with one arm and lower him onto the doorstep with his back against the door. I hoped he could avoid the death sentence if he gave evidence about the drug and smuggling operations.

That done, I hurried back to the crowd, looking for Matt and Con.

“Hurry up and get those gates open! We’re running out of time!” Gerry shouted.

“I’m trying – the blasted key won’t go in!” The forager at the gates shouted back.

I found Matt near the middle of the throng. He was a step back from Con, who was swearing like a trooper at the forager with the keys.

I grabbed his arm to get his attention.

“Where’s Brandon, Chelsea?” he asked. Unlike Jack, he was clearly unimpressed by my deception.

“He’s over there, talking to Jack.” I pointed to the building where I hid Jack.

Matt strained his eyes. “Where?”

“He’s afraid to show himself in case Con goes ballistic and won’t let him join us. He knows Con lied about the breakout date to stop him escaping tonight. Do you think you can convince him to come? Jack’s not getting anywhere with him, and neither am I.”

“We don’t have time for this, Chelsea.”

“Then come on!”

Matt frowned but let me lead him to the recessed entrance.

“What the–” he said when his eyes adjusted sufficiently in the darkened entryway to notice Jack collapsed against the door.

He bent down to check on him, but as he did so, I stabbed him in the side with the next syringe and injected him with the anaesthetic. He surprised me by grabbing my hand and ripping out the needle.

“What are you...” Before he could say anymore, his eyes closed and his legs collapsed. I half caught, half dropped him on top of Jack.

Two down, one to go.

I reached into my pocket for the third syringe, stepped out of the entrance, and looked up. And then did a double take and staggered back in fright, for Con was standing right in front of me, a look of disbelief and pure and unadulterated fury on his corpulent face.

“What are you doing?” he spat

“Keeping a promise,” I replied.

I pulled the syringe from my pocket and pushed off the lid, preparing to strike, when a cheer went up from those clustered at the gates.

I heard a loud click.

“Finally!” Gerry called out. “Helps when you use the right key, doofus!”

“Now get those gates open!” shouted another forager.

Seeing Con distracted by the events at the gate, I lunged forward with the syringe. Somehow, he sensed my attack and spun around, smashing the syringe from my grasp. It flew off to the side and shattered on the concrete path.

“You stupid little git, I’m going to blow your brains out!” he hissed, stepping menacingly towards me while reaching behind his back for his gun.

I looked at him, petrified, wondering if I should try to make a run for it, when the foragers pulled open the gates accompanied by a soft cheer. The road to freedom stretched out before them, beckoning to me as well, offering the future I had sought for so long.

“Come on, people! We have to get to the ruins before they come after us,” Gerry called out. He motioned for the crowd to hurry through the gates and into the broad expanse beyond.

Foragers, their wives, children, parents, and relatives, hurried out of Newhome and into the concealing darkness, heading for the ominously quiet ruins that were once part of the suburb of Kensington. Five men picked up the assault-rifles dropped by the unconscious Custodians and ran out with them.

No one noticed Con and me standing on the steps in front of the recessed entrance, since the area was outside the spotlights’ cone of light.

Con risked a quick glance behind at the throng as they hurried quietly out of the town. I saw Karen and Sofia falter, panicking because they couldn’t see me.

Gerry rushed over, took them each by the hand, and pulled them after him through the gates. I felt a huge sense of relief. If he was looking after them, I was confident they’d be fine out there.

Meeting Con’s fierce gaze with my head held high in defiance, I made to hobble past him towards the gates. I had to get out while I still had the chance. I didn’t want Con to come, but in my condition, there was nothing I could do about it. Maybe I could convince the authorities in Ballarat of his crimes, but I doubted it. Two out of three would have to do. Shame the worst one was going to escape.

“Take another step and I’ll put a bullet through your head!” He drew his gun and aimed it at me.

“We don’t have much time,” I said, desperate to get after my sister and Sofia.

“What was in those syringes, Chelsea? Did you kill them? Were you trying to kill me?” His body quivered with rage, his finger already tightening on the trigger.

“It’s anaesthetic.”

“What – why?”

“‘Cause I promised my brother I wouldn’t let you three escape justice.”

“You stupid cow! Your brother’s just as guilty over Dan’s death as the rest of us! What is it, one yardstick for him and another for us?” His finger tightened on the trigger a little more.

“Brandon’s dead, Con.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the gun.

“What?”

“He was killed an hour ago trying to rescue my sister and me from the debt collectors who’ve been hounding us ever since Father was arrested.”

A host of different expressions paraded across Con’s face as he digested my words. Finally, he snorted. “Served the little loser right.” He lowered his gun slightly and began to back away. “As for you, you can stay put. I’m grabbing Matt and we’re getting out of there. If you take a single step through those gates, I’ll put a bullet in you. I’m leaving Jack behind because I know you like him. Let’s see how your conscience feels when you watch them execute him.”

“Actually, Con, you’re not going anywhere except before the magistrate,” said a familiar voice.

Con and I jolted in surprise when Ryan stepped out from behind the corner of the building. He was aiming a gun at Con, and it wasn’t a hundred year old relic like the one Con had, but a Custodian automatic pistol.