Aaron was in a room by himself, lying under crisp white sheets. There was no sign of Latimer but Aaron’s mum – I recognised her from last year’s memorial service – was sitting beside her son, her head bowed as she held his hand. It was dark outside, though a bright light from the car park shone in through the window. Aaron himself was asleep, the covers rising and falling steadily as he breathed. The scene reminded me so forcefully of Mum with Lucas that I had to look away.
The last time I’d seen Mum had been in this very hospital, just this morning, when I’d told her and Dad to look after Jas, to take her away and hide. Jas would want to know about Aaron – and I would have to tell her he was in hospital when she called. I was keeping my phone switched off, in case Riley was trying to track me. I would turn it on later, somewhere busy, just for a minute, to see if Jas had called to say where they were.
Mum was probably fretting about having left Lucas. He had been on his own since then. It didn’t matter, much, I told myself. It was only a few hours and Lucas was in a coma; he had no idea who was here and who wasn’t. But, as I stared at Aaron and his mother, guilt filled me to my fingertips.
Mrs Latimer patted Aaron’s hand. ‘Rest now, my darling. They’re saying you’re fine, that you won’t even have to stay in overnight. Dad will be here later.’
That was a relief, on both counts. I shrank away, into the corridor. Guilt still pricked at my mind. I decided to go and visit Lucas. I needn’t stay long and perhaps when I came back, Latimer would have returned to pick up his family
Keeping my face carefully turned away from the hospital’s CCTV, I slipped away to see my brother.
Charlie
I stood up. Riley stayed where he was, across the table. Outside, a man was yelling, a police officer telling him to calm down.
‘What do you mean, Nat is a “weapon”?’ I demanded.
Riley studied me, his bright, sharp eyes fixed on mine.
‘Spider did well, don’t you think?’ Riley paused, a proud smile on his face. ‘Considering that was his first proper mission.’
‘Tell me about Nat,’ I persisted.
Riley sighed. ‘Nat is carrying an airborne virus called Qilota, which we implanted in him when he came to rescue Jas. The virus is in her too.’
‘A virus?’ I frowned. ‘Are they ill, then?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Riley smiled. ‘Though they don’t know it yet. That’s the beauty of Qilota. It’s been developed as a bio-weapon. It takes two to three days to gestate before symptoms start to show, but the carrier is still highly infectious all that time. Anyone they come into contact with – anyone within a metre or so – is potentially at risk too.’
My head spun. ‘So . . . so . . . whoever Nat and Jas have met since you infected them will get the virus too?’
Riley nodded. ‘Exactly. We used Jas to check the symptoms wouldn’t show during the first forty-eight hours after infection, but today she should have started to feel very unwell.’
‘And . . . and Nat is one day behind?’
‘Yes, he’ll start to get symptoms soon, by tomorrow morning at the latest. Just blurred vision at first and a general feeling of weakness, then fever, blindness . . .’ Riley tailed off, smiling at my horrified expression. ‘And the day after that, so will all the politicians on the boat he infected who, by then, will have gone on to infect others in their turn.’
I stared at him.
‘That’s why you wanted Nat on the boat?’ I terrible thought struck me. ‘That’s why I was on the boat.’
‘Yes,’ Riley said, matter-of-factly. ‘As I explained before, you were bait. It was our best option. You are associated with Nat already. Both of you are known terrorists. It fits with the public perception of you that you would bring a biological weapon to a political event, and the Kimberley Jack was an ideal venue because the cabin is small, so Nat would infect more people. It also makes sense that, once Nat had been spotted, you would have started a panic over a fake bomb to give him a chance to get away. Getting him on to the boat was the only challenge, but –’ Riley chuckled, ‘– I knew that the harder I made it for him to rescue you, the more determined he would become. We were watching him all the way.’
My chest tightened. ‘So what happens after the first two to three days, after the weakness and . . . and blindness?’ I asked. ‘How ill do you get?’
‘Once symptoms show, the infected person has less than twenty-four hours to live.’
I stared at him, his words were icy daggers in my heart.
‘Nat and Jas are going to die?’ I gasped.
‘Yes,’ Riley said. ‘As will much of London, unless they receive the antidote in time.’
So this was what he’d meant by ‘extreme casualties’. ‘Why? How?’ I clenched my fists. ‘What’s the point of all of this?’
‘There are two points,’ Riley said smoothly. ‘Firstly, to discredit the government. When Nat and Jas pass away no one will notice, but as soon as half the people at last night’s party become ill then we will step in to say we have just discovered that Nat – a known terrorist – was exposed to the deadly virus by government agents, working for the Prime Minister, that he was a government pawn, working for them – not the League of Iron – all along. You were assisting him and have now disappeared, also presumed dead.’
‘You mean you’re going to frame us, like you did before?’
‘It’s not really about you,’ Riley said. ‘The important aspect to this is that once people become ill and the Prime Minister is denying all knowledge of the virus, we’ll be able to “expose” the fact that he and his government were responsible for illegally developing Qilota as a bio-weapon.’
‘They’ll deny it.’
Riley nodded. ‘Of course, but we’ll provide what looks like proof. And we’ll be the first to locate and provide an antidote. Symptoms will start to clear, people will be saved and the next day the election will bring us a huge landslide victory as mistrust of the government reaches its height and the Future Party is at last seen for what it is: the saviour of England.’
‘But . . . but you were on that boat too, you could have been infected. And Spider. And all the EFA people.’ And me. I thought those last words but I didn’t say them. I didn’t want to give Riley the satisfaction of knowing how terrified I felt.
‘We’ve already taken the antidote. So has everyone at the EFA, including Taylor and Uchi. And I’ve made sure selected political allies will be alright too.’
What about me? Again, I didn’t say this out loud. Instead I looked up. ‘You mean like Aaron’s dad?’
‘Yes, and his son.’
I fell silent. Did that mean Latimer’s cover with Riley was still intact? What did it really matter? I no longer held out any hope that Latimer or anyone else could make a real stand against Riley.
‘You’re wondering about yourself, Charlie?’ Riley asked.
I held his gaze, my heart suddenly pounding.
‘There’s no need to worry,’ Riley said. ‘We slipped the antidote into your drink earlier today. Uchi insisted.’
I stared into his eyes. His reassurance meant nothing. What good was my life to me, if those I loved most lost theirs?
‘But Nat and Jas will die?’ I said flatly.
Riley smiled and I remembered that moment, a month ago, when I’d faced him with a gun in my hand. Then, I’d been unable to shoot him. Now I was sure I would have no problem doing so. I didn’t care if it was right or wrong.
‘Yes.’ Riley paused. ‘Jas has another twelve hours or so . . . Nat about a day and a half. After that they – and anyone they come into contact with who doesn’t receive the antidote in time – will be dead.’
Nat
I kept my head down as I approached Lucas’s room. Much to my relief, the corridor was empty, though there was a buzz coming from the waiting area at the end, where several nurses had congregated and were chatting excitedly about something.
I turned into Lucas’s room, bracing myself f
or the sight of his body hooked up to its usual tubes and wires. But his bed was empty. I stared at the white sheets, neatly folded back on themselves. I couldn’t process what I was seeing. Where was Lucas?
Was he dead? Guilt surged up inside me, trapping all the air in my chest. Had Lucas died because I’d sent Mum away?
My legs threatened to give way beneath me. I reached for the door frame, consumed with shock and fear.
‘You alright there?’ A nurse bustled past me, into the room.
I pointed to the bed, unable to speak.
The nurse frowned. I didn’t recognise her from any of my previous visits. ‘Goodness, you look pale. Are you feeling alright?’
‘What?’ I gasped, still pointing to the bed and completely forgetting my need to maintain a low profile. ‘Lucas. Where . . . what happened?’
The nurse’s eyes widened. ‘You know Lucas Holloway? Are you family?’
‘Yes.’ I just got the word out. As I spoke, I remembered that I was still a wanted figure – a fugitive. I needed to keep my true identity a secret. ‘I’m Lucas’s cousin,’ I lied. ‘And his best friend.’
To my surprise the nurse grinned. ‘That’s excellent to hear. We’ve been trying to track down Lucas’s family since he woke up.’
‘Woke up?’ The room spun around me. Mum had always said Lucas would regain consciousness, but the doctors had held out little hope and for most of the past year I had thought Mum had been deluding herself.
‘Yes.’ The nurse was clearly enjoying herself now. ‘There’d been signs of partial consciousness for a couple of weeks and we’d stepped up the physical therapy we were doing to help build Lucas’s muscle strength. Then this morning he opened his eyes. Two hours later he was speaking and moving his limbs. We’ve been working with him all afternoon. He’s even taken a few steps.’ She hesitated. ‘You should speak to the doctor. They can fill you in. And perhaps you could let us know where his parents might be.’
‘Speaking? Walking?’ I said the words in a daze, too shocked to think straight.
‘Yes.’ The nurse touched my arm. ‘Would you like me to take you to see Lucas right now?’
I nodded, still unable to process what she was saying. The nurse steered me along the corridor. The waiting area had emptied from a few minutes ago. Just two doctors were there now, conferring in a corner. One of the armchairs had been turned to face the window. A thin, pale arm lay across the armrest. I could just see the edge of the hand-shaped EFA logo that was tattooed on the inside of the wrist.
I hesitated, feeling dazed. The nurse gave me a little push. ‘Go on,’ she said encouragingly. ‘He’s not as fragile as he looks.’
I stumbled forwards, past the row of plastic chairs and the coffee machine. I stood by the armchair, staring down at the shrunken figure – so familiar and yet so strange.
He was staring out of the window at the rooftops of London.
‘Lucas?’ I said, my voice hoarse.
He turned and his face lit up with the lopsided grin that had dominated my childhood.
‘Hey, little brother,’ said Lucas. ‘So what’s new?’
Part four
Execution
n. (1) carrying out an action;
(2) putting someone to death
Charlie
I paced around the cell, my fury at being imprisoned building with each step. Hours had passed and just one thought consumed me: I had to save Nat. Of course I wanted to save Jas too, not to mention all the other people who had – or were going to be – infected with the deadly virus. And I still burned with desire to expose Riley for being prepared to sacrifice human beings to achieve power.
But mostly I wanted the boy I loved to stay alive.
It didn’t look hopeful. It was surely late evening by now and I was still stuck inside this police station. Apart from the officer who brought me food and water and accompanied me to the bathroom, Riley was the only person I’d seen or spoken to in hours. For all I knew, he was planning on keeping me here for days. But I didn’t have days. Nat would be dead by the end of tomorrow, Jas even sooner.
The first thing I needed to do was get out of the police station. Then I needed – somehow – to track down the antidote Riley had spoken about and get it to Nat and his sister.
I was exhausted, my mind running over the options for escape on an endless loop. Each one seemed as hopeless as the next. There were no windows and the only door was firmly locked. I had nothing I could use either as a weapon or to get past the lock. Apart from my clothes, the only item in the room that wasn’t nailed to the floor was my plastic water cup.
The door creaked open. I scrambled to my feet as the bright electric light from the corridor outside streamed into the room. A man stood in the doorway. I squinted, trying to make out who it was. I was expecting Riley again. Or maybe Uchi.
But as the man stepped towards me, a furious scowl on his face, I saw that instead it was Aaron’s father, Mayor Latimer.
Nat
The clock in the hospital canteen ticked loudly on. The room itself was shut up, all the food display counters empty and covered. A kind porter had let Lucas and me sit here, in the shadow of a drinks dispenser, after Lucas had insisted on taking his first trip away from his ward. He had refused the offer of a wheelchair and was, instead, hobbling around on some kind of walking frame.
At least the canteen was empty. The nurses had swallowed my story about being Lucas’s cousin and – thanks to the fact that I’d only visited him a few times in the past year – no one so far had recognised who I really was. Still, there was a strong chance that sooner or later someone would do so and, as I was still wanted for terrorism, I was sure that their next step would be to call the police. In fact, the police could easily already be searching the hospital for me.
I needed to leave. But before I could get away, I had to explain everything to Lucas. And he wasn’t making it easy.
‘I want to speak to Taylor myself,’ he demanded. ‘I don’t believe he set me up.’
‘Listen to me,’ I persisted. ‘He’s working for Riley. They’re terrorists themselves. They sent you into that market, knowing the bomb would go off once you left it there, not caring if you lived or died. Just like they did with me.’
Lucas shook his head. There were grey rings of exhaustion under his eyes. ‘I was carrying a bag full of disposal gear. My job was to leave it in the market, then get away. It was just bad luck I was caught up in the bomb.’
‘No, you were carrying the bomb,’ I explained. ‘You left it and it went off and you hadn’t got far enough away to be safe.’
Lucas shook his head again. I went on, explaining how after his death our family had fallen apart, how I’d thought he’d been one of the terrorists.
‘You thought I was capable of that?’ Lucas put his head in his hands.
I hurried on, feeling worse and worse as I told my brother how I’d tried to find out more about the terrorists I thought he’d been involved with and ended up being recruited and used by Riley’s secret English Freedom Army myself.
‘They took you?’ Lucas raised his eyebrows. It was weird to see his expressive face moving, after over a year of pale, still, silence. ‘But you’re just a kid.’
I felt the old irritation rise inside me. When was Lucas going to see that I’d grown up since he’d gone into his coma? Why was it so hard to accept what I was telling him?
I told the rest of my story as quickly as I could: how, like him, I and the rest of my cell had been set up and betrayed, how I had almost died and how – most recently – Jas had been captured by Riley.
‘But I got her out,’ I explained. ‘She’s safe with Mum and Dad.’
‘Right.’ I couldn’t tell if Lucas believed me now or not, but his hands trembled as he tried to push a straw through the top of his juice carton.
Was that from weakness? Or emotion? Either way, it was hard to see Lucas looking so vulnerable. Before the coma he had been the happy-go-lucky brother, a charismat
ic charmer with a new girl every five minutes, popular with his friends, always in the middle of everything, universally loved.
‘Well if I can’t speak to Taylor, let me speak to Jas,’ Lucas insisted. ‘At least switch your phone on to see if there’s a message from her yet.’
Reluctantly I did so. As I expected, there was nothing yet. ‘I don’t want to keep the phone on,’ I said, turning it off again. ‘It might be brand new, but Riley’s hacked things before.’
‘Right,’ Lucas said again.
I glanced at the time. With a jolt I realised I’d been with Lucas for nearly thirty minutes. I had to get back to Aaron’s ward, find Latimer and see if he knew where Charlie was.
I stood up abruptly. ‘I have to go.’
‘Yes.’ Lucas struggled to his feet, leaning heavily against the chair he’d been sitting in. ‘Have you got any money for a cab? We need to get to Mum and Dad and I’m not sure I’ll make it on public transport.’
I stared at him. ‘You can’t leave,’ I said. ‘Not for a couple of days at least. Look at you, you can barely stand up.’
‘But we have to find Mum and Dad, show them I’m okay. They were here every day, sitting with me. Well, Mum was. The nurses told me she came all the time. I can’t let her worry about me a second longer.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘But if Mum and Dad know you’re okay, they’re going to want to see you, which puts everyone at risk.’
‘Not this again.’ Lucas stared at me as if I were mad. ‘Of course they’ll want to see me. I want to see them. Jesus, Nat, I’m sure I can find a way to do it without Riley luring us into a trap.’
I bridled. That was so typical of the old, impulsive Lucas, brimming with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
‘Riley didn’t have much trouble luring you into a trap before,’ I snapped.
‘So you say.’ Lucas sighed. ‘Man, you’ve changed. Before I “went away” you were all geeky and shy, now you’ve grown muscles and an attitude.’ He paused. ‘Look, we need to go now. Both of us. You can help me.’
Every Second Counts Page 19
