The Hit

by Melvin Burgess

  After another five minutes, Christian stopped outside one of the containers. To Adam it looked no different than any of the others, but Christian bent down and pressed his ear against the side of it. After a moment he bared his teeth, punched his fist against the metal wall beside him, and stood up. Adam darted back out of sight. Then, there was the creak of metal, and he peered out again.

  Christian was rattling at a padlock attached to the container doors. He fished a gun out of his pocket, and, glancing anxiously about, struck at the padlock with the gun handle. It did nothing. After a couple of tries, he gave up, held the gun the other way, took aim, and shot the lock off. He opened the door, and squinted into the darkness.

  “Lizzie!” he called softly. “Lizzie! You there, sweetheart?” He leaned around the doorway, lifted the gun up, and took aim.

  Adam screamed, “No!”

  Christian jumped in surprise and swung the gun around toward him. Instinctively, Adam jerked backward, but that was no good — he had to act. With a yell, he flung himself forward, zigzagging as fast as he could toward his enemy. Christian had the gun on him, following him with the barrel, taking aim, ready to fire. But before he could, the door burst wide open and Lizzie ran out, wielding a lump of wood. She flung herself straight at Christian and, with a wild swing, caught him on the side of the head. Yes! Christian staggered a few steps, but he wasn’t down. Lizzie paused, blinded in the sudden light, unable to see. Christian took his chance, and swung the gun into her face.

  “Lizzie!” screamed Adam. The gun connected, Lizzie went down, and Christian had her in his grip in a moment — her kneeling down, him behind her, her hair in his hand, head pushed forward. In the other hand, held high up in the air, was the short, stubby-bladed knife. He turned to grin at Adam.

  “Don’t,” he sneered. “Daddy, don’t. She’s been a naughty girl.”

  Adam rushed forward, but as he did a figure stepped out from behind the container. Christian must have seen Adam’s eyes move, and he began to turn — too late. The man clouted him on the side of the head and Christian hit the floor like a block of stone.

  It all happened in a moment. Adam ran forward to Lizzie. She knelt as Christian had left her, still dazed, holding the side of her head where the gun had caught her. Adam put his arms around her, and looked up at the man standing watching them. It was Jess.

  ADAM STARED AT HIS BROTHER IN DISBELIEF, STRUGGLING to make sense of his presence; but he had someone even more important to him there. Lizzie had had a bad blow to the head but the drug she’d taken was working strongly in her, and she was already getting to her feet. Adam helped her.

  “Got your message,” he said proudly. Lizzie groaned and shook her head, still dazed from the blow. Adam looked over to Jess. “You turned up in the nick of time,” he said.

  Jess scowled at him and glanced at his watch. Like Adam, he’d heard Christian making his way back into the terminal, muttering about killing the girl, and had dithered about whether to follow him or not. He’d had no idea that he was about to save his stupid brother. Now, he felt weak with relief that he had. But he’d severely damaged his chances of getting to Albert Square in time for the announcement.

  Even as Adam spoke, there was the growl of motors somewhere near. They’d been heard. In the echoing alleyways of the container terminal, Christian’s gunfire was proving hard to locate, but it wouldn’t be long before they were discovered.

  “We have to go.” Jess peered down one of the long avenues to see if he could work out where their pursuers were, but Lizzie had recovered enough to get her wits back and she was more interested in Christian, who lay flat out before her on the ground. This was the man who had held her captive and in a state of terror for two days. This was the man who had forced her to swallow Death.

  “Bastard!” she yelled suddenly, and stamped on his leg. “Bastard! Bastard!”

  Adam grabbed her. “Shhh!”

  “What for? He’s bloody murdered me,” she hissed.

  Adam turned to Jess. “He made her take Death, too. We need to get the antidote,” he said.

  Jess shook his head.

  “Don’t you care?” demanded Adam. “I know there’s an antidote. You must know something about it. Jess, we’re going to die. You have to help us.”

  There was shouting — already so near.

  “Look, you’ve got it so wrong,” Jess said. “You’re going to live. I promise. But we have to run — right now!”

  “But —”

  “Now!”

  Jess ran. They ran after him.

  * * *

  Around them, the bikes revved and skidded on the damp asphalt. Adam and Lizzie had no idea where they were going, but Jess did. He stopped running and opened a door in one of the containers — “In here.” They ran in and he slammed it shut behind them. At once, they were enclosed in darkness. Outside, a bike sped by, but it didn’t stop. They held their breaths and listened as the sound of the other bikes grew fainter. They were safe — for now. Until they wanted to move on.

  “We’ll be OK here,” said Jess. “Most of the boxes are locked, but the Zealots got this one opened up for us in case we needed somewhere to hide. Ballantine and his men don’t know anything about it.”

  He sighed and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He was going to miss it — after all that! Beside him, Adam reached out to touch Lizzie’s arm.

  “You OK?”

  “What do you think?” she snapped.

  “I’m sorry …” he began.

  But she had other things on her mind than sorry. “So what’s been going on? What about the antidote?” she demanded.

  “A girl I met. She said she knew the Zealots. She —”

  Jess cut in. “She doesn’t just know the Zealots — she’s one of us. And she wasn’t telling you the truth: There is no antidote.” He pulled himself back up to talk to them. “But you’re not going to die. The drug you took is fake. I know. I worked out how to make it.”

  Fake Death? Adam stared at Jess’s shape in the darkness. “But that’s crazy. Why?”

  “For life,” said Jess.

  But Lizzie wasn’t having it. “Oh, fuck off talking in riddles,” she hissed. “Just tell us what’s going on. So we’re OK? Is that right? We’re going to live?”

  “Yeah. You’re going to live. If we get out of this alive, that is.”

  “But it doesn’t make any sense!” said Adam. “I felt so great. I was stronger, quicker. Just like they said. How come?”

  “Fake isn’t quite the right word,” Jess said. “Adapted. This version does a lot of the things that the original does, but I found a way of stopping it binding to the brain. You get a comedown — a long comedown. You’re both going to get pretty sick. But it won’t kill you.” Jess smiled wryly. “I could have been rich. It’s going to be a pretty popular drug when people realize what’s going on.”

  Lizzie couldn’t believe her ears. She had been through all this — for what? “Are you telling me it was all some sort of stupid trick?”

  “No! More than that. Have you any idea how many people have taken Ballantine’s cheap Death since Jimmy Earle died? Tens of thousands. Over three thousand took it that first night. Imagine all those people out there right now, believing they’re going to die. Believing they have no future. In the past week, nearly all of them will have found out the same thing — the thing you’ve found out, Adam: that life is actually the only thing worth having. They don’t want to die at all. They want to live and it’s the one thing they can’t have.” Jess laughed. “And we’re going to give it back to them. In spades.”

  They could hear the excitement in Jess’s voice. But Lizzie was outraged.

  “So it was a lie,” she said. “The whole thing, one big lie.”

  “A good lie!” insisted Jess. “You’ve seen what’s happening out there on the streets. Things are changing — and this drug sparked it all off. It’s shown people how much life means to them. It’s shown them it’s worth fighting
for. People are taking a stand. Isn’t that worth a lie, no matter how big? At one o’clock there’ll be a Zealot announcement about it in Albert Square: ‘You’re going to live.’ Can you imagine how people are going to feel? The hope? The world’s been changing around them. Suddenly, they’ll be a part of it again. Just like you two.” In the darkness, he tried to embrace them. “It’s life,” he said. “You’ve got it back. The future is yours to take …”

  Lizzie pushed him away. “You took our lives away and now you’re going to give them back? Great. Playing God. You are so arrogant. God help whatever revolution people like you are planning.”

  “We didn’t plan it. We never dreamed it would turn into this. We just lit the fuse. And it’s not just us anymore. There are all sorts of people getting into this now. Different rebel groups, the unions, political parties. Everyone’s involved.” Jess moved to the door to peer out of the cracks. “I want to be a part of it. You can join me, if you like …”

  Adam was listening to Jess’s confession in a trance. So the whole thing, his whole week, had been nothing but an illusion. The despair, the pain, the rage, the love, the fear — all for nothing. The raw emotions he’d been through — the emotions so many people had been through — had all been just to help the Zealots make a political point.

  But what a point …

  “What about the antidote?” he said. “That girl …”

  “Her real name is Anna,” said Jess. “She worked here with me, but she got out. I asked her to see if she could find you.”

  He looked at his watch. Half past twelve. He needed to be in Albert Square in half an hour. He was wasting time!

  “But … why did she tell me to stay in the hotel?”

  “People on Death take risks. A lot of people don’t make it through the week. We were hoping that if you thought there was an antidote, you might keep yourself safe.”

  “You didn’t think of just telling him then?” said Lizzie.

  “No,” snapped Jess. “We couldn’t jeopardize the whole plan by letting that information out too soon. It could have ruined everything.”

  “All that pain. All those people. You sick bunch of bastards,” Lizzie hissed. “And what about the people who did die? Good job you won’t have to explain yourself to them, isn’t it?”

  “There are always casualties in a war. I was prepared to die, too. I still am.”

  “So you taught them a lesson. Bravo!”

  She clapped, the noise echoing hollowly in the little chamber.

  “We made a revolution,” said Jess.

  “You don’t believe that,” said Lizzie. “If that’s what it is, it was coming anyway.”

  As Jess and Lizzie argued over his head, Adam sank down to the floor, overwhelmed by the whole thing. It was fake. It had been fake all along — but it meant he was going to live. Lizzie was going to live. A moment ago he had nothing. Now, he had it all.

  Trees, he thought. And … chocolate. And fresh air and cars. Apples and pears. Music. Jokes. Falling in love — like his mum had said. The whole damn adventure.

  “Being in love,” he said out loud.

  “What?” said Lizzie.

  “We’re going to live. We get it all back. Everything! Ice cream cakes and summer days and new clothes, and … Sunday dinners, and fish and chips. The lot!”

  In the dark, Lizzie made a face. Adam carried on. “Growing up and growing old and having kids and getting a mortgage, and getting your heart broken and scraping your knees, and bacon sandwiches, and being bored and …”

  “Being a dick,” she said. “And dragging people down with you and … nearly getting them fucking killed!” she yelled.

  “Yeah, my brother’s a dick,” said Jess. “And maybe I am, too. But you know what, Lizzie? He thought he had the antidote, but he came to find you anyway. He really does love you.”

  In the darkness, Lizzie could just about make out Adam’s shape. It was true; he really did love her. But after everything that had happened, she wasn’t even sure how much she wanted it anymore.

  “Sometimes, Adam … you know what?” she said. “What if love isn’t enough?”

  Adam just looked at her, dumbfounded, as if he’d never even considered it.

  “There will be love,” said Jess. “And looking after Mum and Dad. And working hard. And getting up on freezing cold mornings, and worrying.”

  “Yeah. All that,” said Adam. He was sore, he felt sick — the comedown from Death was taking hold. But he was going to live. Nothing else mattered. He stood up and shouted out loud for sheer joy.

  Jess smiled. Adam was going to be OK. He was pleased about that. But now he was in a hurry to get on.

  “I have to go,” he said. “You want to join me? Come on! Don’t you want to be in Albert Square when they make that announcement? Or are you going to play it safe and wait until it gets dark?”

  Adam looked at Lizzie. She shook her head angrily.

  “Come on, Lizzie,” he said. “You were talking about the demos. You wanted to take part.”

  “Forget the past,” said Jess. “It’s over. This is the future, and it’s happening right on our doorstep.”

  Lizzie hesitated. She was furious with Jess, angry with Adam — but it was true. She wanted to be a part of the future as well.

  “We haven’t heard the bikes for ages. I reckon they’ve got Christian and packed it in,” Jess said.

  Lizzie groaned. “OK,” she said. “But not for you, Adam. It’s because I’m not going to miss out just to make a point to you two assholes. Understand?”

  Adam leaped up to grab her, and she let him. Love, eh? Maybe. Maybe not.

  “What are we waiting for?” she said. “Let’s go.”

  THEY HEADED OFF, PAUSING, PEERING AROUND EACH CONTAINER, running on. There was no trace or sound of the bikes or cars. Maybe, their luck was in. Within minutes they had arrived at a line of containers at right angles to the usual rows. They walked around them and there they were, face-to-face with the perimeter fence. On the other side was the waste disposal site, with old machinery rusting on collapsed tires and the huge, open-fronted warehouse Adam had seen when he first arrived.

  One look sideways and they stepped back. This was dangerous. A long line of boxes ran parallel to the fence right to the far ends of the terminal. The fence was high, about ten feet — climbable enough, but as soon as they stepped out they would be in full view for half a mile in either direction.

  The question: Who else was watching the fence?

  The answer: Christian was.

  After he had been brained by Jess, he’d woken up with a vile headache and an even viler temper. His beautiful looks had been ruined. Worse, so had his beautiful brain. He knew this by the fact that he was in a permanent rage, and because he was able to remember barely anything of what had been happening recently. Only one thing remained in his mind: betrayal.

  Lizzie. That bitch! She’d told him that she loved him, then given him up to his dad, and now, to cap it all, she’d run off with another boy. They were all in it together. They all had to die.

  He had no doubt that he would get to kill his enemies. He had right and justice and a gun and loads of ammunition on his side. He guessed that they’d try to get out by the old waste disposal site — it was the quickest way out, and not bounded by either canals, or private sites like most of the other perimeters. He made his way there and settled himself down to wait, tucked away among the line of boxes by the fence. It wasn’t long — there! Just a flash, a brief glimpse as they popped out to look at the fence. They dived back in fast enough, but it was them all right, only a couple of hundred yards away.

  Now he was going to end it. They were going to run for the fence, and when they did, he’d be waiting for them with his gun and his knife.

  Creeping down, low to the earth, Christian began to weave his way through the boxes closer to where they were hiding, to give himself a better shot.

  “We’ll get them, precious,” he said to himself,
and giggling at his own joke, wriggled his way forward.

  * * *

  “Over there,” whispered Jess.

  “What?”

  “A hole. See? The wire’s torn.”

  They peeped out. There was a hole in the fence about fifty feet farther up from them — just big enough for a single person to squeeze through.

  Still dangerous. But quicker than climbing.

  “When I say go, we go together,” said Jess. “On the other side, run for the warehouse — that’s our best chance to hide if we need to.”

  “OK,” Adam said. Lizzie nodded.

  “Go!” yelled Jess.

  They dashed out. Almost at once a gunshot rang out. Christian wasn’t as close as he’d hoped — ten containers away. He should have kept quiet but the sight of Lizzie was too much for him. In a blind rage he rushed out toward them. “Bitch! Betrayer!” he howled. He fired off more shots, but nothing hit — they were out of range. But not for long.

  There was an awful moment while they struggled, one at a time, through the hole in the fence with Christian powering toward them. Then they were through and running in between the decrepit bulldozers, diggers, and trucks, slipping on the wet ground underfoot.

  “I’m coming!” screamed Christian. He had already reached the hole in the wire and was squeezing his way through, less than fifty yards behind them.

  “The warehouse,” gasped Jess.

  They rounded a heap of bleeding paint tins, in under the roof of the warehouse, and straight into an enormous rusting heap of metal. The building had been used to store old white goods — fridges and freezers, mainly — sent there to be recycled long ago. The recession had come and rendered them valueless, so there they remained, a mountain of abandoned metal carcasses, towering above them up to the roof. Jess had hoped they could slip away through another exit, but the only other way out had been blocked by a landslide of rusting appliances years ago. There was only one way in or out — and Christian was coming through it right now.