Every Second Counts

by Sophie McKenzie

Nat was waiting at the front door. I shoved the vial into his hand. Pushed him out, on to the path.

  BOOM!

  The ground shook underneath me. The roar filled my ears. Darkness and stone slammed me down. The world crashed around me.

  And above the explosion, Nat’s yell.

  ‘Charlie!’

  Nat

  Debris fell everywhere. Charlie disappeared beneath falling brick. A hand reached out and pulled me back, away from the house. I turned. It was Dad, his face filled with horror.

  I stumbled back, to where Mum and Jas were waiting. Jas was awake and leaning against Mum, her hands over her mouth. The four of us watched through an eternity of seconds as our home collapsed in front of our eyes.

  Dust settled on to the heap of rubble where the house had once stood. Our home was now just bricks and mortar and bits of twisted metal and burnt plastic. The sight seared itself into my vision. Then darkness blurred the scene in front of me.

  ‘Charlie!’ I wrenched myself away from Dad, stumbling towards the spot where she had been standing.

  ‘Nat!’ I heard Mum’s desperate shriek but I barely registered it.

  ‘Charlie!’ I yelled. ‘Charlie!’

  Dad rushed up beside me. ‘No.’ He grabbed my arm. ‘It’s not safe, Nat.’

  ‘Get off me.’ I shook his arm away, fury and fear swilling in my guts. ‘We have to find her.’

  As I pulled at the pile of rubble in front of me I registered that there was something in my hand. The thing Charlie had pushed at me, before the house had fallen. I glanced down. It was a small plastic tube.

  ‘It’s the antidote,’ Dad said.

  I stared at it in horror. Charlie must have wasted precious seconds to fetch this.

  For me.

  Numbly, I snapped off the top and drank the liquid. It was sour, with a sweet overlay. Like cough medicine I’d once had.

  I reached again for the rubble.

  ‘It’s no good,’ Dad said. He put his hand on my arm. ‘Nat, I’m so sorry.’

  I looked at him blankly, then gazed over my shoulder. Mum and Jas were still huddled together on the pavement. Around them, our neighbours were emerging on to the street. Shouts filled the air.

  I turned back to the fallen masonry.

  ‘She could be alive.’ I shook Dad’s hand off and tugged a large piece of brick from the pile. ‘She was right under the door frame, it could have protected her.’

  I knew as I said the words, that there was only the slimmest of chances that Charlie could have survived the house collapse, but it was enough. I pulled away another piece of stone. Then another.

  ‘Nat, please.’ Dad sounded desperate.

  ‘I have to find her,’ I insisted.

  ‘She couldn’t have survived that,’ Dad said softly. ‘No one could.’

  ‘People do. Charlie could,’ I persisted. ‘Charlie could survive anything.’

  I pulled at another piece of brick.

  ‘Nat, for pity’s sake!’ Mum was here now, Jas still beside her, pale and terrified.

  Ignoring them all, I pulled at the stones. A wave of nausea washed over me. I bent over, breathing deeply, willing the sick feeling to pass. How much time had passed? If Charlie was under here, how much breathable air would she have left?

  I straightened up and redoubled my efforts.

  My parents stood, helplessly on either side of me.

  ‘Charlie!’ I yelled. ‘Charlie!’

  No reply. Tears filled my eyes. I tugged at another, larger piece of rubble. It fell, narrowly missing my feet. And suddenly Jas was beside me, pulling at bricks, her small hands grabbing and dragging stones off the pile.

  ‘Jas?’ Mum said weakly.

  ‘Come on.’ Dad strode forward, put his arms around a huge piece of masonry and hurled it to the path beneath.

  I moved another stone. ‘Charlie!’ I yelled.

  Now Mum joined in. The four of us worked together. Behind us, I could hear voices rising, shouts and demands to ring the fire brigade. Gritting my teeth, I worked on.

  ‘Charlie!’ I yelled into the silence.

  And then, through the dust and the stones came a small, muffled cry.

  ‘Nat?’

  I gasped, hauled another brick out of the way, just as Dad moved a large bit of concrete. A tiny gap appeared in the rubble.

  I leaned in close. ‘Charlie, are you alright?’

  No reply. My heart thudded.

  I pulled at more bricks. Beside me Mum and Dad and Jas worked furiously.

  After a few seconds the hole in the stones was large enough for me fit my hand through. As sirens sounded, faint, in the background, I reached inside.

  ‘Charlie?’ I shouted. ‘Can you see my hand?’

  Still silence.

  ‘Charlie?’ Fear filled me, a sick, terror worse than any I had ever known.

  ‘Charlie?’

  And then I felt Charlie’s warm fingers, linking through my own. Her whisper was barely audible.

  ‘Don’t let go,’ she said softly.

  I leaned in close, my mouth right over the hole in the rubble. ‘I’m not letting go,’ I said. ‘I love you. I’m not ever letting go.’

  Charlie

  Two hours had passed since Nat, his family and the fire service had pulled me out of the rubble. Apart from a few cuts and bruises, I was remarkably unharmed. It had been scary with the brick all around me and the dust in my nostrils and the air close and hot, but the door frame I’d been standing under had kept the weight of the fall from crushing me, and Nat had been there so quickly and I’d been rescued so fast that the whole thing now felt like a bad dream.

  All except for the touch of Nat’s fingers and his soft whisper.

  I’m not ever letting go.

  Those words slid, deliciously, around my brain. Nat and I hadn’t spoken about them since we’d been brought, in an ambulance, to the hospital. But something had shifted between us. I knew we were tight, now. That no one could separate us.

  For the first time since we’d been together I truly felt safe. Which was kind of crazy, since it was pretty obvious that the hospital staff would soon realise we were fugitives and send for the police. And although Riley had been arrested, that didn’t mean we were in the clear yet.

  Nat – who had clearly spent the past few hours running on adrenalin – was in worse shape than I was, almost collapsing as we walked to the ambulance. However, now the antidote he’d drunk had started to take hold. His strength was returning and I was hoping that soon we would be able to leave.

  We sat, side by side, on a hospital trolley. A doctor had examined us both and Nat’s mum had just left. She was in a total state, flitting between us and Jas, who was being checked over in another cubicle. Nat’s dad was at the police station, making sure that Lucas and Parveen were given the antidote too. The hospital had notices up, urging anyone experiencing symptoms of the virus to contact their doctor or come to A&E for the serum that would cure them. At least they had access to plenty of stocks now I’d told the hospital staff about the boxes stored at the Silvercross Institute.

  Through the curtains we could see the TV over the nurses’ station. The words ‘breaking news’ flashed on to the screen, then a picture of Roman Riley. The newsreader was explaining, in hushed, horrified tones, that a film had been broadcast at this evening’s rally allegedly showing Riley in the act of murdering an unknown man.

  At this, Nat and I glanced at each other.

  The newsreader went on, explaining that police were now examining the evidence, that the body of a man had been found at Riley’s house, identified as the figure in the video, and that Riley was under arrest for his murder. A moment later, he added that politicians and others were coming forward to speak out against Riley and – most shockingly of all – that Riley had himself organised the development and release of both the Qilota virus and its antidote, which was at present being administered to the scores of people already believed to be showing signs of infection. />
  ‘It’s all out in the open,’ I said, a huge wave of relief washing over me. ‘We did it, we showed people what Riley was really like. Nobody will vote for him now. Lucas and Parveen will be released. And we’ll be cleared of everything.’

  Nat looked sceptical. ‘Hopefully,’ he said. ‘It depends what Riley admits to. If he doesn’t confess to everything, some people will see him as a martyr.’ He pointed at the screen. ‘Look, there’s Mr Latimer.’

  Nat

  Charlie and I watched the screen as Latimer announced he had a statement he wanted to read. His face was badly bruised but relief shone from his eyes.

  ‘I was beaten and my son and I were held captive by Riley for hours earlier,’ Latimer explained calmly. ‘Worse, Riley was prepared to murder scores of people and risk the deaths of thousands more in order to gain power. If it wasn’t for the actions of a few brave souls who risked their lives to expose him, many of those under threat would have died.’

  ‘They’ll have to release Lucas and Parveen now,’ Charlie whispered.

  ‘Too many people stood by while Riley committed crime after crime, for far too long,’ Latimer went on. ‘He was allowed to make contact with terrorists who had developed illegal bio-weapons and, through his own secret army of young recruits, set about staging bomb blasts around the capital and beyond.’

  ‘See?’ Charlie nudged me. ‘The truth’s coming out now.’

  ‘Some of it will,’ I said with a sigh. ‘And some things will never be known.’

  Charlie

  I looked at Nat. ‘We’ll be okay, won’t we?’ I hesitated, wondering what ‘being okay’ would mean for me. Nat had his family, but I belonged nowhere. The thought of going back to live with Uncle Brian and Aunt Gail appealed to me as little as the prospect of leaving London to stay in Aunt Karen’s spare room again.

  Nat squeezed my hand. ‘We’ll be okay,’ he said. ‘I won’t let us not be.’

  Soon after that, the police came and we were taken away, separately, for questioning. I told the officer who interviewed me everything that had happened.

  Aunt Karen came to London and we moved into a B&B. I didn’t see Nat for a couple of days, but we spoke every few hours.

  Nat

  Information slowly trickled through: Riley had already been charged with murder and now he and other leading EFA members, including Taylor, were charged with a whole range of terrorist-related crimes. They were all likely to go to prison for a long time. I had expected to feel more satisfied about that, but when I heard the news all I could think was that no punishment, however severe, would bring back the last year, or all the lives that had been destroyed. I knew Charlie felt the same: her mum was gone, Nothing could ever change that.

  I guess we had the answer to the question we’d been asking ourselves about killing Riley. However badly we wanted him gone, his death wouldn’t have given us what the hospital psychotherapist called ‘closure’. Only time and getting on with life were going to do that.

  Spider and his mum were brought in for questioning, though released without charge. I suppose that was fair. After all, Spider was young, and there was never any evidence that either he or his mum had actually carried out any violent acts. Others who almost certainly had, such as Saxon66 and WhiteRaven and many of the low-ranking EFA soldiers just vanished. At least Lucas and Parveen were released and, much to my amazement, immediately started dating each other.

  At the end of the week, the general election took place. Riley’s Future Party did badly, while the party Latimer belonged to won a surprise majority of seats. Latimer’s term as Mayor was soon going to be over and he was already being tipped as a leader for the future.

  He’s not perfect, but he’s basically honest and well-meaning – and hopefully smart enough not to screw things up too badly.

  Like democracy itself, he’s the least worst option.

  The best chance we have.

  One year later

  Charlie

  So – the new government, with Latimer already in a senior position, has made a few radical moves and, thanks partly to the stability that’s come now that Riley isn’t planting bombs and stirring up riots, the economic situation is slightly better than it was.

  It’s like Nat said: some things have changed for the better; some things will never be known; and some people see Riley as a martyr in spite of everything he did.

  There’s a new extremist party building up support. It’s led by Saxon66, though he’s using his real name now. He’s been clever about his past, distancing himself from the League of Iron and claiming the entire organisation was manipulated by Riley and his team. To me and Nat it’s obvious that this new party is a cover and that Saxon66’s ambitions are as ugly and violent as they always were. But he’s still getting more popular every day.

  Riley and Taylor are in prison. I’m glad about that, of course, but it hasn’t made as much difference as I thought it would. Killing them wouldn’t have changed anything either. Nat was right about that too. At least there’s no way Riley can dream of a political career again.

  After agonising about it for weeks, when Uchi’s funeral was finally held, I went along. Nat came with me so I didn’t have to go alone. It was weird, saying goodbye to him. I even cried, though mostly because the funeral reminded me of Mum’s. I didn’t really mourn Uchi himself, though I know I’m still grieving the father I never had.

  But don’t get me wrong. I’m happier now than I’ve been for a long time. Nat and Jas and I had a few months off, but now we are back at school, redoing last year and about to take our exams. I’m not sure how well I’ll do, but Nat’s going to get all A grades. He’s super smart, you see. As well as kind and brave and funny and gorgeous. And in love with me. As I am with him.

  Nat’s family is back together in a new house – a big one, with a room each for Nat, Jas and Lucas. Nat’s mum is at home all the time now, baking and fussing and spoiling everyone. Lucas has a job – and is madly into Parveen, while Aaron and Jas spend all their spare time together too. I go there a lot; it’s a proper home: sunny and happy, just like Nat says their family life used to be.

  As for me, Aunt Karen asked if I wanted to go to live with her in Leeds. And Brian and Gail pitched up too – once they knew I was innocent of the crimes I’d been accused of. They offered me a home again as well, which was nice of them.

  But I know the score now. I told Uncle Brian I’d rather have my own place, so he’s helping me rent a flat. I live here alone. Yes I’m young to do it. And, yes, sometimes it gets lonely.

  But it suits me.

  I come home and I can be at peace. I need this space. And, gradually, with Nat’s help, I am building myself up, coming closer to trusting the world again. Because though it’s easy to shut out trust and love, in the end those things are all that really matter. And with Nat by my side, they seem possible at last.

  One thing’s for sure. After everything I’ve been through, I know that life can be taken away in the blink of an eye. So now I’m trying to live every day well, with openness and hope.

  To make every second count.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to Lou Kuenzler, Moira Young, Gaby Halberstam, Melanie Edge and Julie Mackenzie.