In a Split Second

by Sophie McKenzie

  Riley sat back and folded his arms. His presence, I realized, had changed the atmosphere even in this empty room. The air around us felt charged.

  “But the whole point of the EFA is to stop illegal violence.”

  “That’s right. We only ever fight in self-defense but many of our activities, from surveillance to counterattacks against known terrorists, are outside the law. That’s the real world, Nat.” Riley smiled sadly. “I know you have been brought up to think that adults have all the answers, that our elected representatives carry out our wishes, that democracy works, but none of these things are true. And the EFA is small and poorly funded, so sometimes we need to use fists and threats and even guns. Sometimes, like you yourself said, you have to be prepared to do anything to protect your family, your country. Sometimes carefully targeted force is the only way.”

  I sat very still, taking in everything Riley had said. The Commander sat still too, watching me with those sharp, compassionate eyes of his. Neither of us spoke. The silence stretched out like an ocean around us. Minutes passed. It struck me that no adult in my life had ever stopped what they were doing and waited like this for me. After a while, I looked up. Riley opened his arms—as if to ask if I had any more questions. There was a tiny open-hand tattoo on the inside of his wrist—the same tattoo I had seen on Lucas and Taylor. I suddenly realized what the hand shape, with its five fingers, stood for.

  “Five members, one cell,” I murmured.

  Riley followed my gaze to the tattoo. “Also ‘many people, one cause.’ ” He made his hand into a fist. “My focus is on young people, because it’s their future and right now the older generations around the world are taking it away from them with their greed and their selfishness. But I believe in a better England and I’m prepared to give my life . . . to risk everything, like you said in that League of Iron meeting you went to, to ensure the future is better than the past.”

  I looked down at my lap. My ambitions weren’t anywhere near as noble.

  “I just want to get back at the League of Iron,” I said. “I want to make sure they can’t blow anyone else up.”

  Riley leaned forward, listening intently. Then he nodded. “So do I.”

  He waited for me to speak. Another minute ticked past. It was strange. I felt I was being listened to even though I wasn’t speaking, as if Riley were giving me enough time to process what I had heard. At last I shifted in my chair, sitting more upright. I was ready.

  “Are you with us, Nat?” Riley stood, his head slightly bowed, as if to honor the solemnity of my decision.

  I didn’t hesitate. I stood up too, trying to copy the slow, focused way Riley moved. No wonder Lucas had looked up to him. He was amazing, inspiring, everything everyone had ever said.

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “I’m with you.”

  CHARLIE

  The light in my eyes dipped. Taylor stood in the doorway, a flashlight in his hand.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “Looking for Nat, seeing as nobody will tell me where he is.”

  Taylor swore. He paced across the room, stopping right in front of me. For a second I thought he might hit me. I flinched, but Taylor’s hands stayed at his sides.

  “Do you know why I picked you for my cell, Charlie?” he said. His voice was soft, but all the more menacing for that.

  “I just want to know where—”

  “The others all have skills. They’re good shots and good fighters. Nat is smart, George is strong, Parveen is daring. They all have focus and grit. But you, Charlie, you have something much more rare.”

  I stared up at him.

  “But this thing you have, if you don’t control it, makes you a liability as much as an asset.” He paused. “I already told you that Nat was attending a special training session. He is safe. He will be done soon, back in the bedroom with everyone else. Now, either you believe me and go back to bed, or you insist on defying me and you’re out of the EFA. One of my soldiers can drive you home. It’s your choice.” He stood back, folding his arms.

  “Please may I see Nat now, sir?” I said quickly, hoping that deference might get through to Taylor in a way that my disobedience clearly hadn’t.

  Some hope.

  “No,” he said, shortly. “Now, you haven’t answered my question. Will you stay and obey? Or will you leave?”

  What choice did I have? I still didn’t trust Taylor or the EFA. It was odd that Nat had been taken off on his own but if I went home now I wouldn’t know if he really was okay. And I would also miss my best chance to take revenge on the League of Iron.

  “I’ll stay, sir.”

  “Good.” Taylor peered out into the hallway. “Okay, let’s go. Back upstairs.”

  I followed him past the kitchen and living room we’d been in before.

  “What did you mean about me having something the others don’t have?” I asked as we climbed the stairs.

  Taylor reached the landing. He turned as I joined him. I could only just make out the outline of his narrow face in the dim light.

  “You don’t care what people think of you, Charlie,” he said quietly. “Now go to bed.”

  I crept into my room, going over his words. Was it true that I didn’t care about other people’s opinions?

  You care what Nat thinks.

  I snuggled down into my sleeping bag, flexing my toes to try to warm up my frozen feet. Parveen and George were both still asleep on their mattresses on either side of the door.

  I lay awake, listening. If Taylor had been telling the truth, Nat should be back any moment. Sure enough, after another few minutes, footsteps padded across the landing. The door opened and Nat tiptoed in. He was alone. He didn’t look around as he crept to the only free sleeping bag, across the room from mine.

  I sat up. “Nat?”

  He looked around. Light from outside shone in through the curtainless window, highlighting the dark of his hair and the slope of his nose. He looked breathtakingly handsome.

  “Where’ve you been?” I whispered.

  Nat sat down on his mattress and pulled the sleeping bag over him. “I can’t tell you,” he whispered back.

  It felt like a slap in the face. Here I was, awake and worrying, even snooping, risking Taylor’s wrath to find out if Nat was okay—and he was shutting me out.

  “Is it a mission?” I persisted.

  Nat hesitated. “Not exactly,” he said. “But don’t worry, they’re going to let us get back at the League of Iron. You’ll get your chance.”

  He meant for revenge.

  That was the only reason he thought I was here.

  Well, it was, wasn’t it?

  “Good,” I said, burrowing down into my own sleeping bag.

  “Night.” Nat turned on his side, away from me. I watched his still body, the edge of the sleeping bag rising and falling with his breath. A few minutes later he was asleep too.

  I stayed awake for a long time. I might be in a room with three other people and, together with Taylor, part of a new five-strong cell. But I had never felt more alone in my life.

  • • •

  The hand shaking me was rough and firm.

  “What?” I moaned.

  “Get up.” It was Parveen.

  I opened my eyes. She was peering down at me, scowling. “Time to get outta here, baby,” she said, making a face. “Get a move on. The rest of us are ready.”

  I glanced around. Nat and George were standing by the door, rolling up their sleeping bags. It was still dark outside, though lighter than when I’d fallen asleep.

  “Come on, girl.” Parveen gave me another prod. “Taylor was here two minutes ago. He’s expecting us downstairs in three.”

  I forced myself out of the sleeping bag. I felt terrible, thick with sleep and stiff from sleeping on the thin mattress. I rushed to the bathroom, but there was no mirror and I had no chance to do more than splash water on my face before Taylor was calling out my name and I had to run back to th
e bedroom. Nat was rolling up my sleeping bag. I shot him a grateful glance as I gathered my backpack and followed the others downstairs.

  Outside, the cold air whipped across my face. Suddenly I felt wide-awake. A masked soldier appeared with a flask of tea for Taylor. I eyed it thirstily. A moment later another soldier handed him a bag. Taylor passed the flask and bag to George. “You can share these once we’re in the car.”

  George peered into the bag. “Mmn, rolls,” he said.

  “Gimme,” Parveen insisted.

  “Yeah, me too,” Nat added.

  “Can’t you wait?” I meant the words to come out in a jokey way, but they sounded rude and harsh, even to my own ears. “You’re like little kids.”

  Parveen snapped at me to shut up. Nat said nothing, but his face hardened. We walked through the woods in silence. Of course once we were inside the car with Taylor, the tension eased, but that was because Taylor got everyone chatting away, talking about their family situations and work aspirations. I said the least. I knew that Taylor was just trying to get us to bond into the cell unit he had talked about before. The others grew very silent when Nat told them about Lucas being left in a coma. I didn’t mention Mum. Neither Taylor nor Nat brought her up either, for which I was grateful.

  I fell asleep after an hour or so, waking with a jolt as Taylor stopped the car to let out Parveen. Nat and I were next. We gave the EFA oath: For blood and soil, strength and honor, hope and sacrifice and took the fresh disposable phones that Taylor handed us with a final warning not to tell anyone where we had been. Taylor said he’d be in touch soon and that our regular training would begin in a few days.

  It was overcast and chilly as Nat and I headed along the pavement. A church bell was ringing nearby. I checked the time. It wasn’t even eleven a.m. I knew that when we got to the end of the road, Nat would take a left while I needed to turn right to get to Gail and Brian’s. He had barely said three words to me the whole journey home and I didn’t want to say good-bye to him without making things better between us.

  “I’m sorry if I sounded rude earlier,” I said. “I was just worried about you last night.”

  Nat stopped walking. “Were you?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

  “Yes,” I said. “I came looking for you after everyone else went to bed.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, and I found this random room with cans of diesel fuel and other stuff. Then Taylor found me.”

  Nat grinned. “I bet he was furious.”

  “He was.” I smiled back. “So, can you really not tell me why you got taken off on your own? What the ‘special training’ you did was about?”

  Nat hesitated. “I wish I could.” He moved closer. “Honestly, Charlie, but I gave my word and he . . . it . . . the English Freedom Army needs to keep stuff secret. There are good reasons and I’d be breaking my promise if I told you.” He frowned. “Do you understand?”

  I gazed up at him, surprised. He’d been so distant all the way home I’d convinced myself he saw me only as a partner in crime in his desire for revenge on the League of Iron. Yet he was looking at me now with real concern. My throat tightened and my stomach cartwheeled. It was more than the shape of his face and that soft yet tough expression in his blue eyes. There was something inside Nat that echoed inside me. I had never felt anything like it before.

  “I’m scared of trusting the EFA.” The words blurted out of me before I could stop them. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Why had I said that?

  Nat took my hand. His fingers felt strong and warm. “I’m scared too,” he whispered. “But it will be worth it to get back at the League for what they did to Lucas and your mum. And to stop them hurting anyone else.”

  Up ahead, traffic was roaring along the main road. The church bells were still ringing. The sun was high and bright in a clear sky, the air crisp and cold.

  Nat and I stared at each other. Suddenly I very much wanted to be more to him than just his partner in crime. My stomach flipped over and over as he moved closer and I tilted my face up to his.

  And we kissed.

  NAT

  I drew back from the kiss. What the hell was I doing? One minute I’d been walking along, thinking how rude Charlie was, the next I was standing in front of her, unable to stop myself from kissing her.

  “Nat?”

  I looked away. This was all wrong.

  “Nat, what is it?”

  I forced myself to look at her. She was gazing up at me, her fierce eyes softer than I’d ever seen them. Man, she looked more beautiful than ever. All I wanted was to kiss her again. But I couldn’t and it was impossible to explain why.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “Look, we shouldn’t do this. We’re in a cell together, we need to . . . not . . . just not . . .”

  “It’s cool,” Charlie said. “It was a stupid idea.”

  “No.” My heart was racing. “No, not stupid, just . . .”

  “Impractical?”

  I laughed, then pulled away. “Right.”

  We walked to the end of the road. I didn’t look at her properly as we said good-bye, just mumbled something about seeing her at school tomorrow.

  I hurried home. I was totally right to keep my distance, wasn’t I? There were plenty of other girls I could hook up with and I needed to keep a clear head in order to get back at the League of Iron. I was going to be a soldier, fighting in my brother’s place, like Roman Riley had said. Soldiers had girls, but never ones they really cared about.

  That had been Lucas’s way and it was going to be mine, too.

  • • •

  I avoided Charlie for the next couple of days at school. Mum and Dad both asked me if I’d had a good time over the weekend but, as neither of them really listened to my answer, it was easy to lie to them. It struck me that I would have found it much harder to have lied to Riley. He had an air about him that made you want to tell him the truth. Mum seemed in a good mood when she got in on Monday evening, which was nice, until it turned out she was happy only because she’d been visiting the chapel in the hospital and was now certain that if she prayed every day, sooner or later God would bring Lucas out of his coma. I said nothing, but inside I despaired. What planet was Mum on? If medical science couldn’t cure Lucas, how on earth was prayer going to help?

  Every night when I closed my eyes, images of Charlie’s face kept floating into my head. I didn’t want to think about her. Or our kiss.

  On Wednesday, Taylor sent a text giving a time and a place for a meeting the following evening in a dirty basement on a rundown side street in Archway. Charlie and I talked only about superficial school stuff on the way. Taylor, George, and Parveen were already there when we arrived. I noticed George’s eyes light up when Charlie walked into the room. A shard of jealousy lodged itself in my chest. I tried to ignore it.

  Taylor spent the next two hours drilling us on combat training. In both cases George and I worked together, separately from the two girls. The session ended at eight p.m. sharp when Charlie and I traveled home saying as little to each other as we had on the way there. Presumably, that was how it was going to be from now on. I told myself I was relieved about this.

  There was another training meeting that Saturday afternoon, then a break for Christmas, with sessions beginning again on the first week of January. The five of us soon settled into a routine of three meet-ups a week. Taylor spent several evenings focusing on “exit techniques” or, as Charlie put it, “ways of getting out of trouble.”

  The simplest of these outlined ways in which we could call in code for help.

  “If you can’t use words, then you need a distress signal that your cell members will recognize,” Taylor explained. He taught us the Morse Code “SOS” signal—a series of taps or light flashes: three short, three long, three short.

  After learning basic Morse code we set about studying techniques for slipping and loosening knots. Only Par was any good at that. Next, Taylor showed us how to release a range of door lo
cks using just a credit card or the flat side of a knife. I was useless at it, but Charlie got the knack right away.

  “It’s all in the pressure and the angle,” she explained.

  I shook my head, hoping I would never have to open a door that way.

  The sessions were, for the most part, good-humored, though intense. And, whatever else Taylor focused on, he always made sure we spent at least thirty minutes on hand-to-hand fighting. By the middle of February the four of us knew how to disarm an opponent in just three moves (a sidestep, a punch to the guts, and a fast chop to the wrist), then kick his legs from under him. George—and of course Taylor—were still stronger than the rest of us but if we got our balance right and put our body weight behind the moves, we were good fighters.

  Taylor did his best to answer our questions too. I noticed that while George was mostly interested in fighting techniques, Parveen and, recently, Charlie wanted to understand more about the political system we were living in.

  “It’s dog eat dog,” Taylor would say with a sigh. “The police cover up for the politicians. Neither of the main parties have got what it takes to lead and the extremist groups, like the League of Iron and the Communists will do anything to get power.”

  “Including bombing innocent people,” Charlie said darkly.

  “Yes and its not that hard to make a bomb, that’s the scary part,” Taylor explained. “You can do it with things like swimming pool cleaner or fertilizer. Get the right mix of basic ingredients and ‘boom.’ ”

  Whenever Taylor could organize it, we met at a firing range just outside London. This always meant getting home later than usual but only Jas ever noticed when I was back late, while Charlie invented a bunch of new friends to explain her absences at home. We improved with every session. I could now hit a target on the other side of the room, while Charlie wasn’t far behind.

  Two more weeks passed. It was the end of February and the pair of us were strolling to the Archway basement where the cell had met many times before, deep in an argument about whether Parveen or George was the better fighter.