"I've spent most of my life in one institution or another. Locked away, starved, beaten, worse. Do you know what they like to do to helpless little boys in orphanages? I've paid for my goddamn genes every day of my life, and now you're going to pay for what you did."
"I didn't do anything!"
"Exactly. And because of you, I won't get the atonement I deserve."
"No, you'll get exactly what you deserve."
Gus pushed his arm again, and Kenton cried out.
"And what about your little girlfriend? Don't you care what happens to her?"
"I think you need to pick your inside men a little better, he's already been fired."
Kenton turned his head as Gus ground him against the pavement. Grit tore at his cheek, and he screwed his eyes closed.
"Then I'll just have to get Amie myself."
"Don't you dare!"
"I'm a criminal, remember? Besides, I have nothing to lose." He let go of Kenton's arm.
Kenton pulled it under him, pain burning through every joint. He kept his eyes closed, willing Gus to walk away. Instead, he felt his boot slam into his thigh. Gus was far from done.
29
Friday 20th June 2053: Gingham Mouse Books & Brunch
It was a smaller venue than Drew had hoped for, but the major bookshops had refused to speak to him. He'd managed to secure dates with a handful of independent bookshops, and maybe low-key was the best option.
A table had been squeezed into a corner, between science fiction and true crime. Behind it hung an oversized poster, and several copies of the book were stacked on the table, ready for signing.
Drew wandered over, proudly running his hand over a copy. 'Finding the Abandoned Generation: Interviews with the Children of the Eugenisence Programme.' They couldn't have hoped for the amount of controversy it had caused. There had even been a public burning of it in Trafalgar Square. It was on every news channel, the headline of every newspaper. Sure, most of it was baying for Kenton's blood, but where the book was available, they'd been selling out in mere hours of delivery.
Drew glanced at his watch. Kenton should have been here over an hour ago. He hadn't seen or heard from him since the news of Valerie Conley broke. His mobile rang through to answer phone every time. If anything had happened to him—he couldn't even let himself think it.
A teenage boy approached, his shirt embroidered with the bookshop's logo. Drew was glad of the interruption.
"Mr Snider?"
"Yes?"
He squirmed under Drew's gaze. "The owner asked me to see to you and Mr Hicks personally, to ensure you have everything you need."
"I could do with the writer being here."
"Mr Hicks isn't here?" The boy finally made eye contact, if only for a second.
"Oh, no, no, don't worry, he's on his way." He shook his mobile as if he'd just finished speaking to him. "He's just got a bit tied up." An image of that being the literal truth flashed into Drew's mind. He pushed it aside and managed a little smile.
"I hope he's ok. We've had protesters from both camps outside the shop since we announced the signing." He shrugged. "The owner thinks this will make the shop famous."
"We're grateful. There weren't many places willing to host us." Drew glanced at his watch again. "Maybe you can get some water. Kenton's bound to be answering a lot of questions today."
The boy scurried away.
Drew looked at the door. "Come on Hicks."
30
Friday 20th June 2053: Gingham Mouse Books & Brunch
Kenton saw the bookshop ahead, along with the crowd gathered outside. They spread right across the road, and while a few police officers were turning away traffic, they did nothing to break up the arguments and skirmishes. There were journalists, photographers, banners bearing hateful slogans. One of the shop's windows was boarded up, the other criss-crossed with masking tape. Kenton needed a back entrance.
He reached into his pocket, searching for his mobile. He checked all his pockets. He must have lost it somewhere, or left it at the hospital. Either that, or Gus had it.
He kept his right arm cradled to his body, and walked as casually as he could, looking for an alley. He was in luck. A small yard served delivery entrances to the row of shops. He liked to think this had been planned, that all his signings would have escape routes, but he knew it was just dumb luck. At the next one, he'd have a car parked there, with the engine running. If there was a next one.
He tried the back door. Locked. He knocked, waited, knocked again. He hammered on the door, pain crawling through his body.
Finally, a face appeared inside; a teenage boy carrying a jug of water. He peered out, recognition spreading over his face, and unlocked the doors.
"I couldn't get in the front," Kenton said. "Where's Drew?"
The boy showed him in.
"Oh my god. What the hell happened?" Drew asked.
"Just a little business meeting, it's nothing."
"Nothing? Did you go to the hospital?"
"Yeah, yeah. They kept me in overnight. Torn ligaments, a couple of cracked ribs. I'll live."
"Let's get you out of here, I'm not letting you do this. I should never have let you go off on your own. Half the country's after your head."
"And the other half need me to do this. I can't let Eugenisence win."
"And how are you going to write?"
Kenton forced a smile. "With my toes? Think of the publicity."
"You're impossible. I suppose there's no point in me trying to change your mind?"
Kenton smiled, and shook his head.
Another member of staff arrived, her badge identifying her as the deputy manager, but she was barely out of her teens.
"Our security's arrived," she said. "Once they're happy, we'll open the doors."
"Thanks," said Kenton. He pulled Drew aside. "I need you to call Hookend. Gus says he's going after Amie. They assure me he won't get in, they're well aware she's a target. But can you call for me? Just to check everything's alright."
"With the eyes of the world on Hookend, they won't let anything happen to her. But I'll make the call." He looked Kenton up and down. "We can still cancel this."
"I'll be fine. But I need to thank you, no matter what happens. You believed in this from the beginning, you could have just told me I was crazy. Maybe you should have. You're a real friend, Drew."
"I'm proud of you. You stuck to your guns."
Kenton eased himself into the chair behind the table. He picked up a pen, his hand shaking with the effort. He smiled up at Drew.
"Ok," he said. "I'm ready. Open the doors."
31
Friday 20th June 2053: Hookend Psychiatric Detention Centre
Gus sat on a low wall, inspecting the flyer in his hand. It advertised today's book signing, although Kenton's photo was notably absent. He screwed it into his fist, and discarded it on the floor.
"Oh, there's going to be a revolution, Kenton Hicks. And it's going to be starting at Hookend."
32
Friday 20th June 2053: Drew Snider's Residence
"Well, thank you anyway," Drew said, lowering his mobile from his ear. "That's the fifth signing cancellation we've had."
Kenton continued to pace the room, chewing his bottom lip.
"Will you sit down?" Drew snapped. "You're making me dizzy."
Kenton stopped, and looked at him.
"Come on," Drew said. "We knew this would be hard. And it's not like today went smoothly."
"This was such a dumb idea. I'm such an idiot."
"Don't you dare claim that. I told you it was a dumb idea. But you talked me round. This country needs someone to trust right now, and if you can't believe in yourself, no one else will."
"They were right, this book is bringing nothing but chaos." He gestured at the television. The volume was muted, but the images were clear enough. "I never wanted this."
"All you did was expose the truth. What people do about it is their own business."
/>
"I guess Gus got what he wanted."
Drew opened his mouth to reply, but the doorbell interrupted him.
Kenton eased himself onto the sofa. "Tell them I'm dead!" he called after Drew.
"I hope not," said Peter as he walked in.
"Dad."
"There's quite a mob out there."
"Have they all got pitchforks?"
Peter laughed. "Not all of them. How are you?"
"I'll be fine."
"Let's have some drinks," said Drew. "Neive stocked up before going to her mum's. I think she was expecting a siege."
Kenton stared blankly at the television. He'd wanted to bring the country together, but he'd only segregated it more.
Drew's phone buzzed. He picked it up and looked at it. "Kenton. It's you calling me."
Kenton jumped up. "Gus has my phone." He reached out, and Drew handed him his mobile. "What the f—"
"Guess where I am," Gus said. He had to shout over the background noise: shouts, screams, crashing, alarms. Alarms.
"If you touch her—"
"We're having quite the party in here, why don't you come down and join us? Amie's having the time of her life."
"Gus!"
"Sorry to cut this short, but I have a riot to facilitate." The line clicked dead, and the phone's glow faded.
"What's going on?" asked Drew.
"Gus is in Hookend. He's incited a riot there. I have to go."
Kenton moved for the door, but Peter blocked his path.
"There's nothing you can do. If you go, you'll be mobbed."
"I have to help Amie."
"They'll have it under control soon. They have plans for things like this."
"I have to go."
Kenton tried to push past his dad, but Peter held him back.
"Dad, please."
"No."
Kenton turned to Drew in desperation.
Drew looked at him for a moment. "Peter, you know you'll never get him to stay here. I'll take him. I'll keep him safe."
"Piece by piece I'm losing your mum, watching her disappear," Peter said. "I cannot lose the only other good thing in my life." He grabbed Kenton's hands. "The only thing I've ever got right."
"I can't just do nothing."
Peter shook his head and stepped aside. "Just come back in one piece."
"I promise."
"What are you even going to do when you get there?"
"I don't know. I just know I have to go, because I love her."
33
Friday 20th June 2053: Hookend Psychiatric Detention Centre
Gus surveyed the chaos, smiling broadly. It had gone so much better than he could have hoped for. The residents of Hookend had taken to rioting as if they were born for it. Well, in a way, they were.
He'd brought less than 100 people with him, and it had been surprisingly easy to get in. Kenton was wrong; his man on the inside did exactly what had been asked of him. They'd easily overpowered some officers, and once they had keys, they simply kept adding to their numbers. It wasn't hard to convince anyone to join in.
The lights flickered above him, and he could smell something burning. He listened to the symphony of shouts and screams, the broken glass crackling beneath his boots. It was beautiful.
He turned into a quiet corridor. There were only a few cells here, all of their doors open, bedding tangled across the floor. At the far end, someone was crouched in a corner, huddled against the wall.
"Hey," he said as he approached. She didn't respond. "Hey!" he shouted.
When he reached her, he nudged her with his boot. She slowly turned her tear-stained face towards him. He smiled as sweetly as he knew how.
"You must be Amie. I recognise your picture from the book."
She tucked her face back under her arm.
Gus crouched down, his heavy rucksack slipping. He shifted, and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.
"It's alright, I'm a friend of Kenton's."
She looked at him.
"He sent me to find you. To make sure you were safe."
"Is he here?"
"No, but he wanted to be. He's in a lot of trouble himself, so he asked me to come and get you."
"Is he ok?"
"Yeah, yeah, he's fine. He just can't be out walking the streets right now."
Gus stood and held his hand out for Amie. She hesitated, but took it, and let him pull her to her feet.
"This is all a bit scary, huh?" Gus wrapped his arm around Amie's shoulders, and led her down the corridor.
She nodded. "Kenton never wanted to—"
"He wanted to change the world."
"Yeah, but—"
"Gotta break eggs to make an omelette."
"Are you taking me to Kenton?"
"Yeah, I'll be taking you. But, listen, he knows how dangerous things are here, and he wanted to make sure you could protect yourself. He gave me something to give to you."
Gus stopped, eased his rucksack from his shoulder, and placed it on the floor. He crouched and unzipped it, reaching his hand inside. He looked up at Amie.
"He said you liked fire."
Gus pulled a bottle from his rucksack, a rag protruding from the neck. He smiled. He couldn't help it.
"I've got a whole load of these in here for you."
Amie backed away. "Kenton wouldn't want this."
Gus stood, and pressed the bottle into her hand. He saw her weigh it, the recognition on her face, and maybe a flash of excitement.
"Kenton wanted change, and he wanted you at the forefront of it. You want to make him proud, right?"
Amie looked at the bottle in her hand, her face blank.
Epilogue
Thursday 15th January 2054: The Lake House
Kenton passed Peter a bottle and settled into the chair next to him. He looked so much older than before all this had begun. Huddled in his oversized coat, with a blanket spread over his legs.
Kenton closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh scent of the clean, lakeside air. He'd needed to get out of the city, needed to blow out cobwebs, get some colour in his cheeks, all of those clichés. He had assured himself it had nothing to do with escaping from the political and social upheaval he had caused.
"Things will settle down in time," Peter said, as if reading his mind. "Everyone wants calm. Following rules is what we humans do best. You'll see."
"There's a lot of people blaming me. We've got a caretaker government, an election looming, and nobody knows what they're doing. How can anyone decide who to vote for when the parties have no idea what their policies are?"
"You merely exposed the truth. You didn't make those policies, or enforce them. And you didn't make people riot. Eugenisence are the only ones at fault."
Kenton sighed. "It would help if they started bringing criminal charges. These enquiries are going on forever."
"That's the point of enquiries. They're delaying tactics. Gives them time to sort out their scapegoats. The people at the top are always untouchable."
"The natural order," Kenton muttered. He was under investigation himself, though he wasn't sure what for. The terrorism charges hadn't stuck, but the police still considered him a 'person of interest'.
The two of them watched ripples wander lazily across the lake. They watched the breeze push through the trees, the birds circling above. Out here, on a day like this, you could almost forget the country was in turmoil.
"Oh, and look what came through my letterbox the other day." Kenton pulled a magazine from his coat pocket. He dropped it into Peter's lap. "The latest issue of The Gene Pool."
"He didn't make it onto the cover this time then."
"They seem to have finally given up on their monthly tributes to Gus, raving on about what a martyr he was. Perhaps he'll miss out on that sainthood after all."
Peter tossed the magazine onto the decking. "Far more than that man deserved."
"Once you're dead, people can make you whatever they want you to be. A terrorist. A tyrant
. Even a damn saint. But me. I have to live with whatever label society decides to lay on me. In that way, I suppose Gus is the lucky one."
"Rubbish," said Peter. "He can't change what he's labelled as. You can become whatever you want to be."
Kenton laughed at the cliché. And coming from the man who'd been so outspoken about Kenton's career choice.
A car rattled over the uneven earth, throwing up dirt as it pulled up beside the house. Kenton shielded his eyes against the sun as the driver climbed out.
"Valerie!" he called, leaping from his seat, and running down the steps to embrace her.
She hugged him back, balling his clothes in her fists. "I've missed you."
"You managed to get here, then."
Valerie laughed. "When most of the world thinks you're dead, it's pretty easy to slip away unnoticed."
She waved to Peter, who waved back. She looked back at Kenton, squinting in the sunlight.
"I stopped by to visit Amie. There were fresh flowers, was that you?"
"No. I've not found the courage to go back since the funeral. But she means a lot to a lot of people now."
Valerie rubbed his arm. "You immortalised her. She gets to live forever."
Kenton snorted. "Until my book gets forgotten on the shelves of discount bookshops."
"Are you kidding? They'll be studying this as an important historical document for centuries. You started a civil war, that's not going to be forgotten."
Kenton stared at his shoes. "All this violence. It wasn't what I wanted."
"I know. But change is generally bloody. When things settle down, you'll be the hero of the modern world."
"I don't care about that. Not when I couldn't save the one person I wanted to."
Valerie pulled Kenton to her and hugged him again. "She'd be so proud of what you've done. What you've changed. And now, the Amie Fogo Foundation."
Cutting the Bloodline Page 7
