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The Haven

Page 7

by Eliza Green


  Carissa hated how disjointed the property shapes were, and that everyone wore mismatched clothes to add to the disharmony. She enjoyed order. It made her place in society clear.

  Her thoughts went to Rover. An imposing force like him would surely make the guards open the gate for her. But she didn’t want to get the wolf into trouble. Who she needed to talk to wasn’t in the compound. She would do this alone and in secret.

  Without her escorts, Carissa explored the camp with a new freedom. Taking strides meant for longer legs than hers, she passed by the trio of houses next to the gate; the first teemed with a rebel presence. She carried on past the town hall and the courtyard to the back perimeter fence.

  Carissa stuck her face up to the corrugated, green panelling that was too smooth and too high to climb. At a point where the fence met the rock race, she noticed it did not meet correctly. The tiny gap would give the adults trouble, but her smaller size could work to her advantage.

  She squeezed her way inside the old part of the town, feeling a strange sensation push her back to the fence. This part looked as dilapidated as the front section. The only things that differed were the width and types of properties. She considered returning later to explore the new section further, but what she needed to see wasn’t at eye level.

  A crumbling set of stairs carved out of the rock stood off to the left. It led up to the lookout point above the town. Judging from their state of disrepair, she guessed the rebels didn’t use this route to reach the mountain shelf.

  The force, which she assumed was an additional anti-magnetic field, gave her enough leeway to access to the stairs. She took care in her climb, so as not to put her foot through gaps where pieces of the steps had broken away. If she fell in this under-visited section of the town, who would know about it? Her part organic heart was thumping wildly by the time she reached the same level from which the spotters watched. Closer to the front of the compound and with their backs turned to her, they paid her no attention.

  Carissa caught her breath a little. Then she noticed a new set of steps leading even higher. She used them to reach a different shelf and pulled herself up to a grassy area perched above the level of the spotters. She sat on the shelf, with her legs dangling over the side. Up this high, she could see the length of the valley to the front of the camp. Fallen rocks dotted the barren valley floor. In the distance, she saw the bright mouth marking the start of the open landscape beyond it. If the Collective came, she guessed its troops would arrive at that point.

  A group of soldiers she’d seen leave through the front gate a while ago, clearly on a scouting mission, returned to the camp. What they searched for she didn’t know.

  Up high, it was easy for her to forget the people below. She would not be treated like an irritation. She would not be cast aside. She had been useful once. As soon as she received new assurances of that fact, Carissa would accept her new life.

  The opinion of only one person mattered to her now. What harm could it do to speak to him one last time? High up, her neuromorphic chip tickled the skin where her disc had been embedded. Carissa scratched the surface, but it did little to relieve the itch. The itch persisted and a voice sounded in the distance.

  ‘Hello?’ she said without thinking.

  Chatter reached her from the camp below. A flurry of voices came through, from the radio equipment in the main house, she assumed. Her partly operational NMC relayed their communications back to her. She listened for a while, finding the flurry of voices soothing as soldiers spoke to camps in the area. Glenvale, Oakenfield and Halforth were all mentioned. The rebels checked the status of the towns and asked how supplies were faring. Supplies were low. Someone confirmed a team from Halforth was on its way.

  A new voice underpinned the main chatter. ‘Hello?’

  It was a male voice separate to the ones she’d just heard. The voice was so feeble, so distant; she couldn’t quite make it out.

  ‘Who is this?’ she whispered.

  ‘It’s me. I’ve been waiting for you.’

  Carissa frowned at her legs, wondering if she’d stumbled upon a crossed connection.

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know who—’

  ‘173-C, the Collective is not angry with you.’

  Carissa almost slipped from her ledge. She grabbed clumps of grass to steady herself when her rapid pulse threatened to knock her loose.

  ‘Who... What?’

  ‘We are glad you are safe, but you must tell us where you are. We have been searching for you.’

  Carissa shook her head and with it Quintus’ voice faded into the background. Chatter from the rebel communications filled her head with noise.

  A flurry of breaths escaped her. She slid down from the ledge and stumbled down the stone steps to the camp once more. By the time she set foot on flat ground, winded and doubled over, all the voices had vanished.

  11

  Anya

  Her failed attempts to return to exercise irritated Anya. Her mind, too clustered with recent events, shot her concentration to hell. Her behaviour that evening only solidified her case in point. She’d shown up at the town hall early to stake out the dining hall and find a spot well away from Warren.

  The furniture in the room had been rearranged into one long table with chairs around it. Whatever food could be spared had been set down on the table. There was even fresh bread. Anya spotted a drinks station set up next to where the servers usually handed out food.

  Sheila and June were there with Alex. Her annoyance with him earlier had faded into the background. Meeting Warren again had brought her recent childish actions into sharp focus. She’d been unfairly using Alex as a shield to protect her from Warren. The only person who could do that was her.

  Alex left June’s side and walked around the table to meet her.

  With a sheepish smile he said, ‘Hey, I was looking for you all day. I just wanted to say sorry about our fight earlier. Friends?’

  He stuck his hand out.

  Anya flashed a smile at him and shook it. ‘Friends.’

  Trouble was, they hadn’t defined what they were. While trapped in Alex’s room in the medical facility, they’d come close to having sex. Their attraction to each other had been off the charts, thanks to a drug called Rapture that had boosted their libidos. Anya admitted to missing the bond they shared, but away from the city and the drug, Alex had barely shown an interest in her. In fact, they’d argued as much as she used to with Jason.

  Were they supposed to be together, or not? She had no handbook for this confusing new life of hers. And without her memories, she didn’t feel qualified to make important decisions about it.

  ‘Love the hair, by the way.’

  Alex flashed the sexy smile that had almost broken down her defences a few times. They’d shared things about their pasts. In their short time together, they’d become close. Now, the connection wavered, leaving a giant hole in her heart where Alex had been ripped away.

  Sheila moved over to the drinks station and poured herself a drink.

  ‘Thanks,’ Anya muttered to Alex, not sure what else to say. ‘Excuse me, I just need to speak to Sheila.’

  Anya left him alone and joined Sheila, tapping her lightly on the shoulder as she watched Alex return to June. Sheila spun round and glared at her. But her look softened when she took in Anya’s appearance.

  ‘Oh my God.’ She ran her fingers over the top of Anya’s new style. ‘I love it. Is this Charlie’s work?’

  Anya smiled and nodded. The old man was growing on her. ‘He’s very good at what he does.’

  Sheila smirked as if she knew that already. ‘Not only that, but he’s scarily accurate at reading your deepest, darkest secrets.’

  She twirled her hand in the air.

  Her words surprised Anya. She reined in her look of shock when Sheila’s eyes widened suddenly.

  ‘I only meant he’s intuitive. But don’t worry; he keeps everything to himself.’

  She laughed it off but he
r gaze, still on Anya, flicked from playful to hard in a flash. Anya wondered if Charlie wasn’t the only one with good intuition.

  Sheila’s eyes became two slits. ‘Something else is wrong. I can tell. You look like you’ve been kicked in the gut.’

  ‘Feels like it.’ Anya sighed, grateful for Sheila’s sixth sense. Keeping secrets was hard work. ‘I went to talk to Jerome because I remembered something...’

  ‘That’s great!’ interrupted Sheila.

  ‘... but then Warren showed up.’

  Sheila’s pupils contracted to fine points. ‘That ass? I hope you told him where to shove his apology.’

  ‘He didn’t apologise.’

  ‘That dick...’ Sheila crushed the cup in her hand, spilling whatever it contained. ‘Wait until I get my hands on him. Even better, I’ve a good mind to tell someone about him.’

  Anya gripped the hand holding the cup and Sheila’s grip loosened.

  ‘Please don’t. And it’s okay. I had to see him at some point.’ She pulled her hand back. ‘I just wish I had more context around the event itself. Right now, it feels like a stranger attacked me.’ Anya broke her rule for the second time that day to not ask about things she couldn’t remember. ‘Did Warren and I know each other before that happened?’

  Sheila gave her a look. ‘Are you sure you want to ask?’

  Anya nodded.

  ‘Yes. You two were friends, I think. I didn’t know either of you very well, but both of you, plus Jerome, June, Tahlia and Frank all hung out together.’

  Two of those names were new. ‘Tahlia and Frank?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Sheila shrugged. ‘They didn’t make it.’

  ‘Like Yasmin?’

  Sheila nodded and stared at the crushed cup in her hand. She swapped it for an undamaged one. ‘I think I need some alcohol.’ She opened all the bottles and sniffed the contents, then said to the room, ‘Hey, I thought this was supposed to be a party. Where’s the booze?’

  Nobody answered her, but the others looked equally disappointed. Charlie and Vanessa appeared at the entrance to the hall and walked over to them.

  ‘When you’re old enough to drink, young lady,’ said Charlie. He nodded at Anya. ‘The cut looks good on you.’

  Anya fluffed the bottom of her hair with her hand. ‘I’m getting a lot of compliments for it.’

  ‘Hey, Charlie,’ said Sheila, draping an arm around the old man’s shoulders, like they were friends. ‘I’m next. I need you to do something with this hair of mine.’ She let go of him and pulled round a section of her golden brown mane. It hung loose around her shoulders. ‘The usual, darling?’

  Charlie laughed and said to Anya, ‘That means a trim, nothing more. She won’t let me cut her hair properly.’

  Sheila’s eyes rounded at the suggestion. She tossed her mane over one shoulder. ‘Why would I, when it’s this fabulous?’

  Max strode into the room next, with Dom. Charlie excused himself and went over to meet them.

  Vanessa stayed with them for a moment longer. She touched Anya’s arm. ‘Max and I were discussing your parents’ limited knowledge of the coordinates to the Beyond. We sent a party out to locate the border they claimed to have seen, but the soldiers couldn’t find anything out there. That sets us back. I was sure the border would be here, but maybe it was a trick of the eyes. Our only hope is they found it, or discovered someone else who found it, before they died. It’s possible you may have overheard them talking about it.’

  Anya frowned. ‘I don’t know anything...’

  ‘Still, we should try. But not tonight. I want you to enjoy the party.’ She paused. ‘I saw you training today. From now on, you won’t be part of the team. Your role will be to help us locate the coordinates or someone who might have them. That’s the priority—to fill in the missing gaps.’

  The latter was her priority too, except to do with her own life.

  Vanessa left to join Max, Dom and Charlie.

  When she was gone, Sheila said, ‘Stick close to me tonight. Warren won’t come within ten feet of you if he sees me.’

  Anya hung back while everyone took their seats. Jason stuck with Thomas, Max and Vanessa at the top of the table while Charlie and Jacob, the inventor from Praesidium, sat next to each other. A subdued Carissa took the seat beside Jacob. She barely made eye contact with anyone.

  Anya slid into a free seat. Sheila took the one next to her and pushed June into the chair the other side of Anya. Alex followed and sat beside June, naturally. On the table was water and a little wine, but not much else. Not much of a celebration in the traditional sense, but she’d take this place over the medical facility any day. From across the table, Jason raised an empty glass to her. She lifted hers, filled with water, and smiled at her brother.

  Sat next to June instead of Alex unsettled Anya. In this confusing time of her life, only familiarity could calm the butterflies in her stomach. She didn’t remember June from Arcis, but she had turned up to help her after Warren’s attack. Anya hated not remembering more about her.

  Dom approached the table. She watched him deliberate as to where to sit. Anya thought he’d join Sheila, but he chose a spot nearer the top of the table, next to Max and Charlie. He glanced at Anya as he settled in his chair.

  Sheila elbowed her. ‘He’s trying to give you your space.’

  Anya knew he was. ‘I appreciate it.’

  She decided against telling Sheila what she’d remembered about Dom’s haircut from Charlie. To do so would make Sheila happy, and Anya couldn’t give her hope when her feelings for Alex still confused her.

  Dom stood up suddenly making Anya think he was going to leave. But then he walked over to an upright piano that she hadn’t seen before, set behind the food counter. He sat down and started playing.

  The melody had a haunting feel to it and gave Anya goosebumps. The scene played out like a dream. If she and Dom were supposed to be friends like Jerome had said, why couldn’t she remember his piano skills?

  She leaned back towards Sheila. ‘Did I know this about him?’

  Sheila smiled, her head caught in a dreamy, bopping motion. ‘Not unless there was a piano in Arcis, which there was not. I haven’t heard him play since we were both in the towns.’

  Her admission made Anya feel better. She sat up straighter and absorbed the melody that cut a valley through her sadness and lifted her to a new plain. She looked around the room. Others were smiling. Ahead of her, June bopped along to the beat. Alex leaned on his arms. On occasion, he’d glance back and smile at June. Anya looked away from the interaction. It still squeezed her heart too tight and trapped a breath in her throat.

  Then Jerome and Warren walked in. They sat in the two chairs opposite Anya. She swallowed and averted her gaze from Warren.

  Dom finished playing and the room erupted into clapping and shouts of Encore! He played another song, something more lifting.

  Sheila leaned close to Anya’s shoulder, pretending she hadn’t seen Warren. ‘This one was his mother’s favourite.’

  Anya stared at the piano-playing man with the ability to make her forget, and tried to picture him with dreadlocks. But his abundance of soft, curly hair made it hard to imagine him with any other style. She wanted to stand next to him, to examine how his fingers caressed the piano keys. But with a room filled with rebels scrutinising everyone’s move, she stayed put.

  Dom finished his song. Next, one of the soldiers produced a guitar and played a new melody, while Dom returned to his seat. Anya kept her eyes on the new entertainer despite Warren’s gaze burning a hole in her skin.

  After dinner, some of the soldiers pushed the tables back for dancing. Dom maintained his distance while Anya stuck with her group: Sheila, June and Alex.

  She had her back turned to the room when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned, half expecting it to be Jason or Dom. Her blood turned to ice when she saw it was Warren.

  ‘Hey, that was some song, huh.’

  Her throat closed ove
r turning her into a mute. Anya had thought she could forget what he did. But speaking to him again scattered her rational thoughts to the wind. Her focus shifted to revenge.

  Sheila stepped forward and snapped her out of her frozen fear.

  ‘Stay the hell back, Warren. I won’t warn you again.’

  ‘Shut up, Kouris.’ He had a hateful look in his eye. ‘I’ll talk to whoever I want.’

  In her shock, Anya didn’t notice an angry Dom walk over.

  He grabbed Warren by the shirt collar and pushed him back. ‘You lay a finger on anyone in this room, I’ll kill you.’

  Warren wriggled beneath his grip. ‘Take your hands off me, asshole.’

  ‘Dom,’ snapped Max. ‘Let him go.’

  Dom looked back at the colonel and released Warren, who coughed and rubbed his throat.

  Warren glared at Anya. ‘I was only trying to be nice. I won’t make that mistake twice.’

  Anya wrapped her arms around her waist. All eyes were on her and she hated it. Jason frowned at her from where he stood with Thomas.

  He mouthed at her, ‘What the hell was that?’

  She replied with a shake of her head, but the attention didn’t lessen.

  To make her embarrassment worse, Dom cupped her face.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he said.

  Her cheeks burned hotter and she shoved him away.

  Sheila answered for her. ‘She was fine until you went all cave man on Warren’s ass. Just give her a minute.’

  But Dom refused to leave. His intense stare made Anya want to run and hide.

  A look of concern dominated his expression.

  Max grabbed his shoulder, his thick brows drawn forward. ‘Dom, what’s going on?’

  He shucked him off. ‘Nothing.’

  All Anya could hear was whispers. ‘What was that about?’ She heard June and Alex wondering too, and it became too much to handle.

 

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