The Killables (24 page)

The knock at his door made him jump, but he quickly composed himself. It was exactly on time; rather weaker than Lucas’s knock, rather too hesitant for his liking, but he could work on that.

‘Ah, Sam. Come in.’ The young man looked apprehensive, worried. He believed he was in trouble, the Brother realised, and the thought made him smile. ‘Please, sit down,’ he said, motioning to the chairs on the other side of his desk. Sam sat in one gingerly, his leg muscles obviously tense, his entire body leaning forward.

‘You have worked in the System Unit for how long now?’

‘Five years,’ Sam said.

The Brother nodded slowly. ‘And I understand that you are quite the technician?’

Sam reddened. ‘I do my best,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Lucas has taught us all well. I do my best,’ he repeated.

‘And that is all I ask,’ the Brother said, smiling kindly, the smile he bestowed on his congregation at the Gathering.

‘At least, that is all I ask usually. But sometimes more is required. Sometimes we are called upon to do much more, to rise to an occasion, for the better good, to serve our great City. Do you think that you, Sam, are up to such a task?’

Sam’s eyes grew large; his legs were jittering up and down as though they were not under his control at all. ‘I . . . I will do whatever I can,’ he managed to say. ‘Anything for our great City, Brother.’

‘Good,’ the Brother said, smiling again. ‘Because sometimes things happen. Terrible things. Sometimes we discover that evil is all around us, in places we never suspected. Sometimes we realise that the System is testing us, that we must act to show our devotion to good.’

‘Yes, Brother,’ Sam said, though the Brother could see from his expression that he had no idea what he was talking about.

‘Then it is decided,’ the Brother declared with a nod. He leant forward. ‘I have a system change for you, Sam. A system change that you must share with no one, do you understand?’

‘Of course,’ Sam replied.

The Brother handed him an envelope. ‘Open it,’ he said. Sam took it gingerly; his hands were shaking as he clumsily managed to rip it open.

‘Now read it,’ demanded the Brother. He watched carefully as Sam’s eyes became saucers and his shaking became so pronounced that the Brother wondered if he was going to fall off the chair. ‘You see what I mean when I say that you are to tell no one?’

Sam nodded. ‘Lucas?’ he whispered, his voice incredulous, desperate. ‘But how . . . I . . .’

‘It is not for us to ask such questions,’ the Brother said firmly. ‘It is for us to demonstrate our commitment and resolve. To be strong. To accept. To realise that we must be ever more watchful. Do you understand, Sam?’

Sam nodded miserably.

‘And such a strong, brave deed will be rewarded,’ the Brother continued, standing up to let Sam know it was time to leave. ‘I will soon be without my second in command, my System chief. I will need someone to fill that position, Sam. Someone I can rely on.’

Sam met his eyes, understood what he was saying.

‘You can rely on me,’ he stammered, closing the file, standing up and walking towards the door. ‘Thank you, Brother.’

‘And thank you, Sam. I think a more positive system change will soon be generated in your favour. I think you’ll enjoy being an A.’

He smiled to himself as he saw Sam’s posture straighten slightly and a new confidence suddenly take hold.

‘Thank you, Brother.’ Sam hesitated at the door; his voice was almost a whisper.

‘Thank the System,’ the Brother said. ‘As you know, I can only guide. It is the System that rewards those who show loyalty and goodness.’

Sam nodded nervously then left the room, leaving the Brother alone again. He let out a deep breath, put his hands up to support his head, then closed his eyes for his mid-morning nap.

Evie barely saw Raffy all morning; he was holed up with Linus in the System room, or he was just avoiding her. Probably both, she figured. She, meanwhile, had been with Martha, meticulously planning by the minute their invasion of the City. The word ‘invasion’ seemed strange to her – to invade the place she’d always considered home. But she knew it wasn’t home, had never been home. Linus wanted to destroy the System that had changed the whole nature of the City; she found herself wanting to destroy the City itself.

But then she forced herself to remember that not everyone in the City was corrupt. She was angry at herself and it was making her angry with everyone and everything. She had to suppress her anger, had to suppress the voracity of the hate and rage that threatened to consume her when she let them off their leashes, when she allowed herself to feel instead of blocking her emotions and concentrating on the job at hand, pushing out of her head the knowledge of what had happened to her parents, the parents who had loved her, the parents who had brought her to the City for a better life.

The City of the good.

How hollow that description sounded now.

How empty everything seemed now.

‘So, after we’ve been to the damaged ones’ camp at 1800 hours, we start the march towards the City. We’ll need to bring everyone simply to keep the damaged ones in some kind of order, but as soon as we get to the City, as soon as the damaged ones enter, only ten of us go through the gate; the rest drop back and hide outside the wall.’

‘What will happen to them?’ Evie asked Martha.

‘They’ll just stay hidden until they hear from us that—’

‘Not them,’ Evie broke in. ‘The damaged ones. The Evils. What’s going to happen to them?’

‘They will divert the police guard away from us so that we can—’

‘So we’re using them, just like the City uses them,’ Evie interrupted stonily.

She hated herself suddenly, hated herself for being undamaged, for sitting here in Base Camp planning something when they could do nothing, could think nothing, could feel nothing. She hated herself, but she hated the Brother more, the Great Leader, the people who had made it happen.

Martha looked at her in concern. ‘We are working together,’ she said patiently. ‘If we get in, if Linus and Raffy disable the System and change it for good, if we can let everyone know what’s been happening, then there won’t be any more Evils. There won’t be any more damaged ones. We need their help to get in. I think if they knew what the City had done to them, they’d be on our side. Don’t you?’

Evie pursed her lips. ‘But being on our side doesn’t mean being happy to be used as target practice,’ she said. ‘Being on our side doesn’t mean being happy to be used as a decoy.’

She wanted to see Raffy; needed to, like an ache. She wanted to see him look at her again the way he’d looked at her this morning, to feel whole like she’d felt when they’d made love and to feel that surge of hope, of belief. She wanted the sun to return, to warm her bones. But instead, all she could see was shadow.

‘No, it doesn’t,’ Martha agreed. ‘But sometimes war means that we face difficult decisions. The damaged ones in the camps are treated terribly. Inhumanely. If we are successful, those who survive the attack will be cared for properly. And there will be no more. There will be no more butchery. That has to be worth it, doesn’t it?’

Evie nodded silently. It was a logical answer.

Then again, the City was full of logic. Logic and systems and order.

The opening to the tent swished back and Raffy came in, making Evie’s heart jump, making her stomach constrict as she looked at him, her eyes full of hope. But he didn’t return her gaze. Linus walked in behind him. ‘How are things going?’ he asked.

‘Great,’ Martha smiled. ‘How’s Raffy getting on with the System?’

‘He’s a natural,’ Linus said proudly.

Martha raised her eyebrows. ‘A natural, huh?’

Raffy grinned at her. ‘Linus’s System is awesome!’ he said, sitting down as far away from Evie as he could. ‘He’s made a virus that’s going to completely disable the City’s System so we can rebuild it like it’s meant to be. It’s so amazing. It can tell when someone needs company, or when someone’s unwell; it can even create games for when you’re bored. If every house had a computer it could make sure everything’s taken care of. Can you imagine?’

Raffy’s eyes were shining and Evie found herself smiling at him, but he didn’t see her. Or perhaps he chose not to.

‘So what have you two been doing?’ Linus asked.

Evie tried to hide the hurt that pulsated through her heart, her head, her whole body. Raffy would never forgive her. She had lost him, just as she deserved to. ‘We’re just working through numbers,’ she said.

Martha shot her a little smile. ‘We’ve organised the backpacks, we’ve got the timetable down, assuming that we’re at the damaged ones’ camp by 5 p.m. and out again by 6 p.m.’

‘That sounds about right,’ Linus agreed. ‘So arriving at the City as it gets dark?’

‘And at the point that most people will be at home,’ Martha said.

Linus smiled. ‘Exciting, isn’t it?’

He looked at Evie, who tried to seem enthused. ‘Yeah,’ she managed to say.

‘Well,’ Linus went on, rubbing his hands together, ‘going by Martha’s timetable, we must be leaving here at what, 3 p.m.? 4 p.m.?’

‘3.30 p.m.,’ Martha said.

‘So then I think lunch is our next big priority.’ Linus smiled. ‘Can’t have growling stomachs, can we?’

‘We certainly can’t,’ Martha grinned back, standing up. ‘Evie, you want to come with me to the kitchens and see if we can convince someone to cook for us?’

‘Sure,’ Evie said, jumping up. Raffy moved back slightly as she passed him, as though recoiling from her, and it felt like a punch to the stomach.

‘So, kitchens,’ Martha said once they were out of the tent. Evie hesitated.

‘I’m just . . . going to the loo,’ she said.

‘Okay,’ Martha called back. ‘See you in a bit.’

Evie didn’t move for a second or two, then she took a deep breath, checked that no one was looking and started walking away from the kitchens, away from Raffy and Linus, away from the bathrooms. She was going to finish what she had started. She had nothing else now.

She walked down the covered walkway, past the sleeping tents, past the System tent until she was there, outside the damaged ones’ tent again, looking in hopefully through the window. And immediately the woman appeared, as though she’d known Evie would come, as though she’d been waiting. She walked towards the window, and Evie stretched out her hand and felt her pressing against the plastic, and she felt something more powerful than hatred, more powerful than anger. She knew. She knew deep down who this woman was.

She walked towards the door and smiled at Angel, who was standing guard outside, ‘protecting the damaged ones’ as Linus put it. ‘I think Martha needs your help,’ she said. ‘Planning for tonight. She said she needs some logistics information.’

Angel frowned. ‘Now?’

Evie pulled an uncertain face, moved towards him, lowered her voice. ‘She said she needed some expert guidance on transporting the damaged ones. I can stay here if you want. While you go and see her?’

Angel looked unconvinced; Evie steeled herself.

‘Or I could tell her you can’t come?’ she suggested. ‘Only she’s really busy. So’s Linus . . .’

Angel looked around anxiously. ‘I don’t know,’ he breathed. ‘I don’t know about leaving them.’

‘For five minutes? I’ll be here,’ Evie said, a note of irritation in her voice. She eyed the ring of keys in Angel’s hand; then her eyes travelled to the padlocks and chains keeping the doors to the tent closed. Protected? They weren’t being protected. They were being kept prisoner.

‘Okay.’ It took Evie a couple of seconds to realise that Angel had relented. ‘Okay. You stay here,’ he said.

‘Of course.’

‘I won’t be long.’ He started to move; Evie dug her nails into her palms to give her courage.

‘Shouldn’t you give me the keys?’ she asked.

‘The keys?’

‘In case something goes wrong. I’m not going to use them, obviously, but I thought the keys had to stay next to the doors at all times. Isn’t that what Linus said?’

Angel shook his head, ‘I shouldn’t,’ he said.

Evie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Look I’m not asking for your gun. Just the keys. Just in case. We’re on the same side, Angel. Don’t you trust me?’

Angel paused, his face full of thought, full of anxiety. Eventually he nodded, walked back over to Evie and handed her the bunch of keys. Then, heavily, reluctantly, he headed down the walkway, only turning once; Evie offered him a smile when he did, taking up the exact same position he’d been holding for the past few hours.

Only when he’d turned the corner, only when she was sure that he wasn’t coming straight back, did she move towards the door, taking out the keys, trying one, another, another, until she found the right one. Until the padlocks were coming off, until she was opening the tent door and going inside.

The woman was waiting for her, arms outstretched. Evie could see the look in her eyes, the same look she knew she had in her own.

‘Mother.’ She whispered the word as the woman took her hands, felt her arms, clasped her to her bosom. Her movements were jerky and seemed hard to control but Evie didn’t care; she didn’t care about anything any more – not the System, not the Brother, not Linus and his plans. She had found her mother. She had found the woman who had borne her, raised her, who had trudged for miles to find somewhere safe to live, whose life had been changed irreparably by the Great Leader and his cruel, abominable experiments on her brain.

‘My name is Evie,’ she managed to say through her tears. She could see a crowd gathering; the other damaged ones were walking towards them curiously, their rolling eyes not scary to Evie any more because she was one of them, because they were not evil but the result of it. ‘My name is Evie and I think I’m your daughter.’

At this the woman moved her hands to Evie’s shoulders, pushed her a few inches away, then smiled. It was not a warm smile; it was a manic, crazed smile, but Evie saw the beauty in it. She saw beyond the wild, staring eyes to the soul that lay beneath. The lonely, desperate soul of a mother scorned.

‘They lied to us. They lied to all of us,’ Evie told her, her eyes imploring her mother, willing her to understand. ‘But I found you. I’m here now. You’re safe.’