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The Eve Illusion

Page 9

by Giovanna Fletcher


  I glance at Bram for encouragement, but his eyes are fixed towards the crowd, a steely expression on his face. This is my decision. If it’s something I truly want, I have to get it on my own.

  I continue: ‘I know he, like so many of you, risked his life for mine by going back into that building.’

  The crowd shifts, relaxes as they understand that I know this particular piece of the puzzle – that my only living parent handed himself over to our enemy for me.

  ‘Now I must go back for him.’

  There’s silence, then whispers of disbelief.

  ‘After everything we’ve done for her?’

  ‘Do all those who’ve died for her mean nothing?’

  ‘How many more of us have to die for her freedom?’

  I try again. ‘It’s just not fair that I should –’

  ‘We fought for your justice,’ interrupts one man, angry and bewildered as he speaks. ‘Now it’s time to topple the EPO and fight for our justice, and for the justice of every single person out here who has been pushed into poverty by their power. Don’t talk to us about fair!’

  ‘I didn’t mean –’

  ‘He’s right!’ shouts another voice. ‘They’ve grown stronger while we’ve grown weaker. By freeing you we could start claiming back our rights. You going back in there would risk everything.’

  ‘Freedom doesn’t mean she has to do exactly what you want her to, though, does it?’ argues a female voice to my left.

  More words are shouted as the crowd becomes angry, and arguments break out. The noise builds. A scuffle starts in one corner of the room with the man who spoke of justice. I see arms in the air as punches are thrown in his direction.

  Adrenalin surges through me and I find myself striding off the platform and through the crowd. I fight my way to the men throwing their weight around. As soon as I reach them I grab the first I see – a man who’s at least a foot taller than me and twice as wide – and get him into a lock hold before swinging him over my shoulder and on to the ground. It’s a move I was taught in one of my many lessons with the Mothers, but never had the opportunity to carry out – it didn’t seem right to tackle a woman in her sixties to the ground so that I could learn a skill we all assumed I’d never need, and I wasn’t allowed near the security guards to test it on them.

  The way this man’s weight shifts and rolls is surprising. The thump as he lands on the floor is so loud it vibrates beneath my feet. It interrupts the chaos, and we’re left with what I was hoping for – silence.

  The fighting ceases. They all look at me agog. Mouths wide open. They appear even more startled than they did when I walked in last night. I won’t kid myself that I’m the strongest or most capable here, but they have certainly underestimated me. A lifetime in the Tower has given me an abundance of skills that I thought were redundant. I no longer feel that way. The boxing and martial-arts classes have paid off.

  Thanks, Vivian.

  ‘I take it we’re all done?’ I ask, pacing the small circle the ruckus was taking place in.

  The defeated man scrambles to his feet, throwing me an embarrassed glance, then holding out a hand to the man he’d initially punched. Standing side by side, they fall back in line with their fellows, their disagreement forgotten.

  It’s unnerving being among the crowd like this, with the tension in the air tangible enough to grab. But I know I can’t back away now.

  I stay where I am, my body buzzing, and continue addressing them from here. This time I don’t need to channel Vivian to do so. I’m set for fight or flight – and, right now, flight is not an option.

  ‘When I arrived last night I learned your collective name. Freevers. You have dedicated your life to my freedom. But I have been wondering what that freedom means if I now find myself imprisoned yet again. Were you fighting for my physical freedom? So that I could walk among you? Was it my mental freedom? Was it the freedom to love whoever I wished? To make and learn from my mistakes? Was it freedom to act on my impulses and live life in the way I wished? What exactly were you fighting for?’

  I give them time to reply.

  No one does.

  I stop pacing and root myself to the spot, noticing that Bram has moved closer, along with Helena, Chubs and Saunders. His eyes bore into mine.

  ‘I never asked anyone to sacrifice their life for mine,’ I remind them, slamming my hand into my chest. ‘Yet so many of you did. Just like my father did, not once, but twice. I should be allowed the privilege of doing the same for someone I love, because that is my right. That is my freedom.’

  A few heads drop.

  ‘I don’t expect any of you to join me. So many of you have given so much already. I can’t ask that of you,’ I say. ‘I don’t want anyone to feel pressured into helping me. But I owe it to you to tell you my plan while you move forward with yours. Somehow I will be going back to that building, and I will be leaving with the man who gave me life. Or I won’t be leaving at all.’

  Mouths open to speak, yet nothing comes out. Heads are tilted. Lips are licked and feet are shuffled. I can understand their hesitation and confusion. They’ve been waiting for me to arrive for so long, hoping I’d be able to offer them the answers they’ve been searching for. They longed for me to come, made it their life’s work to get me out of the Tower in the hope that would sort out the mess the EPO had created of their lives, but perhaps they never really thought they could. Everything until this point has been hypothetical, but now it’s time for them to shift their focus on what comes next.

  I wish I could offer them more than the desire to be reunited with my dad.

  ‘We’re not leaving you either, Eve.’ It’s Bram’s voice cutting through the silence. Heads turn to face him. ‘Not now. Not ever.’

  ‘The fate of the future lies with you. Yes, we want to see them pay, but you are our saviour,’ adds Helena. ‘It’s our duty to serve and stand with you, Eve.’

  ‘I’m not changing my mind. I’m going back,’ I tell her.

  ‘I’m old enough to remember your mum and dad,’ Helena says, stepping towards me so that she, too, is in the circle that’s been created. ‘They were good people, Eve. You and your father were meant to be together. They shouldn’t be allowed to keep you separated any longer.’

  I find myself nodding at her, as passion flares within me. There is no doubt in my mind that this is the right thing to do.

  And I’m not alone. The whispers of disapproval have gone. Now there’s a buzz in the air. The buzz of change. The buzz of people who do not want to be restrained any longer.

  ‘We go in there,’ I shout, looking around the crowd to include every single person standing before me. ‘We go in there, we get my father, and we will make sure those bastards realize our lives are NOT to be played with! We are not pawns in their game, and we will not let them cheat us out of life. We will topple them, and we will enjoy watching them fall.’

  The cheer is instantaneous.

  ‘For Eve,’ booms Bram, leaping forward and punching the air. He marches around me, his feet stamping a rhythm as he repeats the words again and again. Helena raises her foot and pushes it into the floor as the rest of the crowd starts to respond, matching their enthusiasm.

  The rising sound causes vibration beneath our feet. People clap in time to the beat, drumming on their chests to help build the rhythm. ‘For Eve,’ they chant.

  But it’s not for me. That’s a twisted illusion. This is for them, for us, for every single person in existence or who has come before us. Life is not to be won or taken. It’s not to be played with. It is to be respected.

  A voice sounds, low like a hum, rising and falling in a beautiful melody. Then a song begins, with dozens of voices joining in while everyone else continues to stomp and clap.

  When the sky went dark,

  They took our heart,

  Left us bleeding

  Ripped our world apart.

  Gone was our hope

  When the days were long,

&n
bsp; But they ain’t ever

  Gonna take our song.

  As I feel the energy build in the room, I realize that, like before, I am a symbol. But before I was a representation of hope.

  Now I stand for defiance.

  15

  Eve

  The Freevers are still as impassioned when I leave the room a short while later. They all agree with my reasoning for going back into the Tower or, at least, understand it, but we haven’t yet discussed how we go about executing my plan and theirs. It’ll need careful consideration, yet there’s no time to waste. Who knows what they might be doing in there to the people they’ve deemed traitors – my father, Mother Kadi, Hartman?

  We agree to reconvene tomorrow, once we’ve had time to think through anything and everything we know about the Tower. They’ve done this so many times before when plotting to get me out, but now I join Bram and Saunders with insider knowledge on how the place runs – although some of that might be out of date already. I don’t suppose the Mothers are still going about their days in the same way, for example – not without me there to tend.

  In many ways I know less than anyone about what goes on up there. The world I thought had been beneath my feet while I was out on the Drop was nothing more than thousands of screens wired up to trick me. But it’s possible I’ll be able to see something the others have missed so far. That’s what I’m hoping, and I’m feeling more charged than ever.

  ‘That went better than I thought it would,’ Bram says quietly, as we’re walking through the corridors and getting out of earshot.

  Once the meeting was over, he offered to show me back to my room, which I was glad of as I don’t know my way around. It did make me wonder if I’ll ever stop being chaperoned.

  ‘It might only be the beginning.’ I shrug. ‘But it felt like a promising start.’

  ‘The beginning is the bit that matters most.’ Bram nods, and I notice his cheeks are pink. ‘Take us.’

  Us … The word causes a flutter in my chest.

  ‘We’ve had years to get to this point. The foundations are so strong we can, you know …’ He breaks eye contact and looks down at his boots as they stomp across the damp floor.

  ‘I’m not sure I follow,’ I say, something making me want to laugh.

  ‘I’m just saying, sometimes taking things at a slower pace can give better results than rushing in without thinking things through.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I know that.’ I nod, feeling myself blush.

  We arrive at my door and I’m disappointed that we’ve reached it so quickly. I take the key Bram gave me earlier and insert it into the lock, but it jams as I’m turning it. Earlier he said there was a knack – a tilt of the key when at ninety degrees – but I can’t seem to make it work. I wiggle it, to no avail.

  ‘Here …’ Bram says, slipping his hand under mine. My breath catches in my throat. I feel giddy.

  He unlocks the door swiftly, yet we both linger, our hands still cupping the handle and key.

  I gently prise his away so that they’re resting in mine. I want to take in every detail – every wrinkle, scar and freckle. I glance up to see him smiling at our hands.

  He doesn’t make to leave, and I don’t break away, so we stand there, soaking up the moment. I realize that he’s seeing me, really seeing me, with his own eyes rather than hers. It hasn’t occurred to me before and I’m left wondering if I look different to him up close. Whether I meet his expectations. The awe on his face makes me think I do. Watching him take me in makes me feel like I’m discovering parts of myself I’ve overlooked before. The sparkle of his eyes is intoxicating.

  I don’t want him to go. I want him to stay with me again, to take in more of me and for me to take in all of him.

  I peer through the open door beside me, into my new bedroom, and back up to Bram’s face. Our eyes lock and heat burns its way through my body.

  ‘There you are!’ booms Chubs’s voice as he makes his way up the corridor, stampeding through the atmosphere that’s been building between us. ‘I was wondering if you fancied a nightcap, Bram. Morris has made some “vodka”. Tastes like shit, no doubt – but it can’t be worse than the floodweed.’

  By the time he’s at my door we’ve dropped our hands.

  ‘Erm,’ starts Bram, looking at his friend as though he hasn’t understood a word of what he’s said.

  ‘Oh, and that was brilliant, Eve,’ says Chubs, his face creasing with laughter. ‘The way you took down Hobbs was mind-blowing. Seriously!’ He pretends to flip someone over his own shoulder and adds a karate chop. ‘You must be buzzing.’

  ‘Yes.’ I laugh politely.

  Chubs’s eyebrows knit as he glances between Bram and me. We’re hardly hiding the fact that he’s interrupted something. Bram’s become mute, I’m monosyllabic, and our bodies are stiff and awkward. ‘You coming?’ he asks Bram, unperturbed.

  I see Bram’s reluctance as he nods and turns to leave.

  ‘Night, Eve,’ he croaks, giving a little cough, unable to look up at me.

  ‘We’ll see you first thing!’ Chubs says, with a wink, as he slaps his mate on the back, then grabs him in a headlock as they wander off.

  ‘Yeah … Night,’ I say.

  I walk into my room and shut the door behind me. I’m alone and the silence is deafening. I’m alone and feel lost. I’m alone and all I want is for Bram to be with me.

  Things have escalated in my mind. The friendship has always been there, but since I arrived here the energy between us has been sizzling away. Now it feels tangible, and I want to hold on to that sensation and see what we can do with it. I can’t be alone in these thoughts.

  I spot a pile of fresh clothes resting on top of a cabinet to my left, alongside a small bowl of greenish water and a cloth. My body feels heavy with disappointment as I skulk over to it, take off my dirty clothes and begin to wash. The cool water is refreshing, and the new clothes aren’t as damp as the ones I was wearing, but I feel more restless and frustrated than ever when I’m done.

  I’ve spent for ever sitting at the top of a Tower waiting for someone else to decide my fate, and now it’s my turn to take control. I’m not going to sit here in this room waiting yet again. I’m not going to let my chance of real life dwindle now that I have it. I have to act. Where’s the sense in holding back and leaving words unsaid or urges suppressed?

  I must remember who I am and be bold. I commanded that room tonight, took it over and made people listen.

  I can do this.

  Feeling empowered, I march towards the door with determination. I swing it open and I’m face to face with Bram. His hand is in the air, about to knock.

  My eyes widen, as do his. For a second or two I forget to breathe. There’s so much I want to say, but it strikes me that the very fact he’s come back speaks volumes. Besides, we’ve done enough talking already.

  I reach forward and grasp his jacket, pulling him across the threshold and shutting the door behind him.

  We fall into each other, our lips meeting, our bodies colliding. It’s clumsy and new, but what else can I expect when I’ve never done this before, only rehearsed it in my mind? I nip his tongue, and he jolts in surprise, but he smiles and continues, slowing the pace.

  I can’t get enough. I want him. My whole body wants him. My hands run across his shoulders and down his back, skimming over his bum and along his thighs. I pause, lost in his kisses as his mouth finds its way to my ear and down my neck, every hair on my body standing on end, my brain seeming to swell in my head as he takes over every little cell and tiny atom of my being.

  He has me.

  My hands shake. The yearning inside me is so powerful, so electric and overwhelming. My body is overcome with passion for him, but I’m scared too. This moment, this act, has been discussed so much. It was going to be an event for millions to rejoice over, and now it’s just for us. The intimacy somehow makes it feel bigger, even more important.

  ‘You okay?’ he asks, moving his mouth from m
y neck and wrapping his arms around me while his eyes look into mine.

  I hesitate.

  ‘Eve,’ he says, kissing the tip of my nose. ‘There is absolutely no rush. We don’t have to do this now. We have the foundations, remember?’ His lips curl into a smile as his eyes soften – I feel my own follow suit.

  ‘Bram?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘We’re doing this!’ I whisper, as I place my mouth on his while simultaneously pulling him to the bed.

  ‘You’re sure?’ he says, his voice wobbling.

  I reach for his belt and slowly pull the leather through the metal loop. My breath catches in my throat as it unbuckles and I start undoing buttons.

  16

  Bram

  My eyes open slowly. It’s dark. It’s always dark down here.

  I blink a few times to wake myself fully but the sensation of rousing from a restful sleep feels totally alien. I haven’t slept that well in … Who am I kidding? I’ve never slept like that!

  The chiming of a clock winds its way through the hallways of the Deep and finds my ears, these ancient timekeepers still loyally carrying out their duty after all these years.

  It chimes only once. One in the morning? Jesus, it feels like I’ve slept all night.

  I close my eyes again and try to roll over but something stops me. Something is holding me in place. My mouth opens to call out when suddenly a soft voice groans sleepily next to me.

  Eve.

  I know her voice instantly. My heart settles as I feel her arm around my waist, pulling down with the weight of her dreams. I reach out and power up the small electric lamp on the table. It flickers into feeble existence and I look around the room. In its dim glow I see the ornate gold-leaf on the walls, the carved wooden panels and it comes back to me. I’m in the Robing Room … Eve’s room.

 

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