by Helen Harper
‘Who are you talking about?’ I asked.
‘You’ll see.’ She waved her sword towards the staircase. ‘Top floor.’
It was a long way up. At every level there was a bogle guard with green skin, a lethal-looking sword and a blank expression. Alora wasn’t taking any chances.
My trepidation grew the further we went. Whatever – or rather whoever – she was taking us to see, she clearly wanted us to see it for our own eyes.
The lower levels might have contained dark grubby offices with depressing cubicles and the stench of desperation but the top floor was where the bigwigs hung out. It was a vast space, with windows on every side and a lot of light. The views were extraordinary, though it wasn’t the Manchester horizon that caught my attention. It was the rubbish, the empty cages and the lived-in appearance of the place that gave me pause.
I sucked in a breath. ‘Someone’s been living here.’
‘And recently,’ Monroe said, sniffing the air.
Perhaps this was nothing more than a fellow survivor’s encampment but I had an uneasy feeling there was more to it.
‘Check this out.’ Felicity was toeing some rubbish on the floor. There were numerous bottles of water, some full, some empty. There were army-style rations, like the ones which had been in Fab’s tent. ‘Whoever was here stayed for some time.’
Cath walked over to the single closed door. Before she could open it, Alora called out to her. ‘I wouldn’t if I were you,’ she said. ‘Our guest has been using that room to relieve him or herself.’
Cath pulled back abruptly. ‘Skeevy.’
Monroe went to one of the empty cages and peered inside. ‘Birds,’ he said. ‘Birds were kept in here.’ He plucked something out: it was a single grey feather. ‘Pigeons.’
From the door, Jodie looked confused. ‘The same ones that carried the message about Fab’s arrival?’
‘There aren’t enough cages,’ I said. ‘There couldn’t have been more than three birds held here.’ But if you wanted to spy on someone in technologically deficient Manchester and then communicate what you learned to the outside world, a few pigeons would indeed do the trick.
Monroe put his hands in his pockets. His spine was stiff. He strode over to the nearest window and looked out. ‘There’s a perfect view of the Boggart Hole and the bogles’ neighbourhood from here,’ he said.
Alora’s mouth tightened. ‘Indeed.’ She reached into her pocket and pulled something out. ‘We also found this.’
I took it from her, turning it over in my hands. It was a tiny pin of the sort that you might clip onto a tie to keep it in place. There was an insignia on it. ‘Fab Labs,’ I read out loud. My mouth flattened. ‘No prizes for guessing who owns that company.’
I twisted slowly on my heel. Judging by the mess, someone had been here for weeks, not days. Someone who’d been watching the bogles. Spying on them. That was how Fab had known about the Travotel; there had probably been someone watching the hotel. And someone watching our enclave as well. That was how he’d known to look up my history before he’d arrived. He’d already been aware I was someone of importance and he’d wanted to get the lowdown before he arrived.
My thoughts collided. Fab’s purported ignorance about how we were all coping within Manchester’s walls was bullshit; he’d been ten steps ahead of us from the start. He’d already known everything.
‘There will have been others watching in other places,’ Monroe said, coming to exactly the same conclusion. His eyes were like chips of ice and his face could have been etched in granite. I suspected I looked much the same.
Alora’s grip on her sword tightened. ‘If I had known they were here and got hold of them…’
Felicity didn’t look impressed. ‘Then what? What would you have done?’ she asked. ‘Put them on trial for the crime of looking?’
She had a point. I chewed my lip. ‘I guess we’ll have to see what their boss says about who they were and what they were doing. When he returns, that is.’
Monroe folded his arms. ‘Well, this will be interesting. I suggest that from first thing tomorrow we try to locate where else there might have been such watchers.’ His expression darkened. ‘And if they still exist. If we find anyone, we should leave them be for now. We don’t want to arouse Fabian Barrett’s suspicion that we’re onto him until we have to.’
Jodie, who’d remained by the staircase as if preparing to flee at any moment, called out, ‘How long do you think someone was here for?’
‘We’ve not manned the door to the outside world for months,’ Monroe answered. ‘Judging from the amount of rubbish here, spies could have been hanging around since spring.’
I jerked up. ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘The door was barred. Trees had grown around it. I had to blast them with magic before Fab entered to open it. No one could have come through the door, not since winter.’
‘But some of this stuff is fairly fresh,’ Felicity objected. ‘The food isn’t even rotten. And it’s been hot for weeks.’
We stared at each other. It was Cath who voiced our thoughts first. ‘There’s another way in.’
‘The walls run all the way around the city. The army made sure of that.’ Monroe frowned. ‘Even the rivers have wire fencing.’
‘They’re too high to climb over,’ Alora said. ‘If you tried, someone would notice either on this side or on the other. It would be too risky.’ She directed an angry gaze out of the window, as if she were expecting to see our spies wandering happily through the streets. ‘And they wanted to be invisible. That much is clear.’
‘Tunnels,’ I whispered. The others looked at me. ‘If you can’t go through and you can’t go over, you have to go under.’ The thought that there had been people sneaking into Manchester all this time was jarring. Maybe we’d never been alone. But why had they kept themselves hidden? What would be the point?
‘I know this city well,’ Alora said. ‘I don’t know of any secret tunnels. Unless your billionaire tells us where they are, we might never find them.’
Felicity shook her head in dismay. ‘He’s known about us all this time. What the fuck is he up to?’
Monroe turned to me. ‘We’re playing catch-up,’ he said. ‘And we’re a long way behind. We don’t understand the rules of this game.’
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘But sometimes it’s good to bet on the underdog.’ I gave a small smile, although my insides were churning. ‘The longer the odds, the bigger the final win.’
Chapter Twenty
We crowded into the largest house in the enclave and dragged out a gigantic flat-screen television that had been tossed in the attic months ago. There was a crack in the screen but I assumed that otherwise it was serviceable. And if it didn’t work, there were three different radios as back up. Now we needed Lucy to play her part.
The one thing we were lacking was information about where Fab’s manipulations were leading. If we could get a lifeline to the outside world, we might get more of an idea about what he was up to. Because, whatever his plans, he was clearly being both disingenuous and thoroughly manipulative.
‘It happens when she gets excited,’ I explained.
‘And,’ Monroe added, ‘she gets excited when she sees Charlotte.’
Julian hadn’t smiled for hours. He leaned against the wall and glowered darkly. ‘What I don’t understand,’ he said, ‘is why Fab wasn’t up front from the start. All this cloak-and-dagger shit is stupid. If we are all going to stay in Manchester, we need the supplies that he can bring in. We all know we can’t survive without them.’
‘The crops are doing okay,’ Julie interjected. ‘And we’re learning all the time about how to do better. In a couple of years, we’ll be expert farmers. Until then, we’ll manage – just about. I’m not saying it’ll be easy but we don’t need Fab Barrett as much as you think we do.’
‘Says the woman who can survive on blood alone,’ he muttered.
She put her hands on her hips. ‘It has to be healthy blood,’ she argue
d. ‘If you lot are starving then so are the vampires. Plenty of our kind have been helping with the crops. You should be grateful that we don’t take the food that you need.’
I looked from Julian to Julie and back again. There hadn’t been any vampire versus werewolf arguments for months. The fact that they were happening again was testament to how we were feeling. We’d put considerable stock on Fabian Barrett riding in on a proverbial white horse to save us; now we were wondering if he was here to destroy us instead. No wonder even Julian was feeling stressed.
He exhaled heavily. ‘Sorry,’ he said. I could tell that he meant it. ‘I had a lot of faith in the guy. I wanted to have a lot of faith in the guy.’
Julie put her hand on his arm. ‘I understand, darling. It may surprise you to know that I once felt that way too.’ She glanced at me. ‘I have to admit that I’m looking forward to the moment when his underhand dealings are unmasked.’
I wondered if that would be spectacular enough revenge for her. Seeing Fab Barrett cut down when we confronted him with all that we’d learned would indeed be satisfying, but I wasn’t convinced that it was personal enough for Julie. Things still weren’t right with her. I might not have possessed the same scent skills as a werewolf but even I could smell the stale alcohol seeping from her barely visible pores.
I didn’t get the chance to speak to her about it because Lizzy appeared from beyond the large living room. She was carrying Lucy’s cage, which had a covering over it so the little shadow beast couldn’t see out. ‘Is everything ready?’ she asked.
I nodded and beckoned her in. The others parted, making space for her, and she carefully placed Lucy’s cage down on the floor in front of me.
I held my breath. Come on, Lucy. We need you to do this. I crossed my fingers tightly.
The room was so quiet that I fancied I could have heard a spider spinning its web in the far corner. With slow, deliberate movements, Lizzy bent over. She licked her lips and, with a flourish, whipped off the cover.
Lucy squeaked.
‘Hey, sweetie!’ I injected as much enthusiasm as I could into my voice. ‘It’s amazing to see you!’
The little shadow beast burbled and began to bounce. One of the radios crackled. There was a brief flicker of light from the television. Unfortunately, one of the younger werewolves also used that moment to cough. Lucy froze then she slowly turned, her black pupils dilating with fear when she realised how many people were staring at her. Fuck. Her squeaks became whimpers of confusion.
I screwed up my face, knelt down and drew her out of the cage. Her body was trembling. I already knew this wasn’t going to work. I shook my head in dismay. ‘There are too many people. She’s not excited, she’s freaked out.’
The television screen was depressingly blank and there wasn’t a sound coming from any of the radios. Not now.
‘Everyone out,’ Monroe ordered.
‘It’s too late. We’ve lost the moment.’ Glumly, I scratched Lucy under her chin and held her close in a bid to calm her down. ‘We’ll have to try again later.’
‘It’s fine,’ he said, to appease everyone’s disappointment as much as to make me feel better. ‘We’ve got plenty of time. In fact…’ He hesitated. His nostrils flared and he lifted his head a fraction higher.
I glanced round. The other werewolves were doing the same. ‘What?’ I asked. ‘What is it?’
He looked at me. ‘Fire.’
My stomach dropped. I stared at him in horror, needing further confirmation. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him, it was that I desperately didn’t want to.
‘A big fire,’ he said.
Sudden bone shaking fear ran through me. There wasn’t time to let it overcome me though. I spun round and sprinted for the door, barely a step behind Monroe. Unfortunately, everyone else did the same. With all the pushing and shoving, it took far more time to get outside than it should have. The alarm bell by the barricade was already ringing and there were shouts and screams coming from all corners of the enclave.
Monroe had been right about one thing: it was definitely a big fire. The billowing dark smoke and sickening orange glow could probably be seen for miles. I stood and stared, frozen to the spot.
‘You know where that’s coming from,’ Julie said dully, before taking a swig from her hip flask.
We all knew. The fire had hit our main supply warehouse.
Monroe was already running down the street, drawing away from me. Others followed in his wake. I tried to unfreeze myself, to make myself run with them but I was rooted to the spot. It felt like I couldn’t move.
Not fire. Not again.
I reached across and snatched Julie’s hip flask. She didn’t protest. I took a long gulp and passed it back to her. The gin burned my throat but I didn’t care. More than that would be burned by the end of this night.
I shivered. And then I ran too.
The building we used to store the majority of our supplies was a disused gym over on the north-eastern corner of the enclave. Its walls were made of sturdy brick but that didn’t seem to be making a difference to the fire, which was whipping through the structure as if it were kindling. The sound of shattering glass as the windows blew out was barely audible over the roar of the flames. Fire had already reached the upper level and was licking through charred holes that were appearing with astonishing swiftness in the roof.
I swallowed hard. There was nothing quite like the smell of fire; it was both alluring and dangerous.
Lizzy appeared next to me, her face white even with the glow of the flames upon her skin. ‘No one would have been inside,’ she said. ‘Not at this hour.’
It was scant comfort. We needed the food within those walls. My mouth flattened grimly. Maybe we didn’t have to lose it all. Any hoses we had were already out by the main fields and allotments and retrieving them would take too long. They probably wouldn’t stretch half the distance that we needed them to. But there were other ways.
I raised my chin and yelled. ‘We need a chain!’ I pointed to the hospital, the nearest building to this one. ‘From there to here. And as many fucking buckets as you can find!’ My eyes met Monroe’s across the flickering light.
He nodded. ‘Wolves,’ he snarled. ‘Get buckets, pots, anything that will carry water.’
People scattered, leaping to his command. From his side, Julian spoke up. ‘Humans and vampires, start a chain. We can pass the buckets from one person to another. The vampires will be more able to stand the heat. They can take up positions closest to the warehouse.’ He looked at me. ‘It’s not rained for five weeks. Will there be enough water in the reservoir?’
I knew what he was asking. We didn’t just need water to douse the flames; we would need it afterwards too. To drink. To live. I’d checked on the water levels just three weeks ago. ‘We should be okay,’ I told him. ‘If not, we’ll have to get water from other sources until it rains again.’
It was a risk but a calculated one. There were other streams, lakes and small rivers within the city. There was even the murky canal, if we grew truly desperate.
Julian didn’t ask twice, he simply offered a sharp nod and started shoving the nearest people into line.
I knew without trying that magic wouldn’t extinguish these flames. Many of us had experimented before and it wasn’t possible. What I could do was help to transport water – though not with buckets.
I leaned back and scanned the burning building. With the majority of our people attacking the fire from this side, it made sense to work from the other side. There was little wind to speak of and I had to be thankful for small mercies. If we could subdue the outer edges of the fire, our salvage operation might be more successful.
‘I need ten of you!’ I shouted. ‘Ten with good magic!’ I pointed at various people whose powers I knew ran strong. ‘To me!’ Then I turned and sprinted round the warehouse.
Eighty feet to the left there was a bank of terraced houses; once upon a time they had been used solely by the vamp
ires but they now housed all manner of people. I ran for the first one and threw open the door. To the right there was a tiny bathroom. It would do.
I shoved the plug into the sink and turned on the taps. It was more of a trickle than a gush of water but we could only work with what we had. Pushing out magic, inch by inch to ensure I maintained control, I focused on the water.
‘Up,’ I whispered. ‘Go up.’
A thin snake of water obeyed. It wavered upwards, barely a fist in diameter. I carefully coaxed it out, ensuring that it remained unbroken and anchored to the water in the sink. I bound it, wrapping my magic round and round its length, and raised it further, tugging on it and directing it out of the door.
The first person was right behind me and I nudged them into the bathroom. ‘Keep that stream up!’ I yelled. ‘Stay in there and make sure it continues!’
I didn’t check to see whether they were doing as I asked. Instead I focused on the water itself, backing up and taking it with me. The watery snake hovered almost two metres in the air, suspended there through nothing more than magic and my own will power.
‘Here,’ I muttered to the next person. ‘Stay here and keep the water moving.’
A middle-aged woman hurriedly stepped up, raised her hands and flicked her fingers to push the water along. I picked up speed, painfully aware that time was against me. The longer I took, the more the warehouse would burn. And it would burn all our supplies along with it.
It seemed to take an age but I finally reached the other side of the burning warehouse. The water continued with me, an unbroken chain floating through the air. The lack of speed and force would be a problem; this damn fire wouldn’t be doused by a slow trickle.
I glanced at the various magically inclined people helping to encourage the water along, dotted at various points and concentrating on pushing it through the air. ‘We need to speed it up!’ I called. My instruction travelled down the line as each person passed it along to the next.
