Le Cirque Navire

by Chele Cooke

  Hadley looked at him. His eyes were narrowed but there was a thoughtfulness in his expression. Maybe the ringmaster wouldn’t go for the offer, but Marcus was certainly considering it.

  “You’ve already lost Malak,” Jack argued. “You need someone else.”

  Anger flashed across the illusionist’s face and he raised the gun again. This time, he aimed it at Jack. Hadley took a step towards Jack without thinking. He raised his hands and shook his head.

  “And whose fault is it that Malak is dead?” Marcus snapped. “You kill him, Jack? Like you did that soldier friend of yours? We all know you’re capable.”

  Jack swallowed and waved one hand to Hadley, urging her to stay put. His gaze never left Marcus.

  “I didn’t kill Malak,” he said. “I liked him. Hell, everyone liked him.”

  “Who killed him then?”

  Jack gave the smallest nod towards Lachlan, who still wandered aimlessly back and forth, searching for a way out of the endless fog.

  “I’m pretty sure he has Malak’s gun in his holster,” Jack murmured.

  “Why should I trust him then?”

  Hadley took another step forwards, more carefully this time. She held her hands up like Jack and faced Marcus. He had to understand, didn’t he? The man she’d seen the night before had been cheeky and funny, he’d been charming and engaging. Despite the man that stood before her now, perhaps he, like Lachlan, had been pushed to the brink, forced to do something he didn’t like but knew had to be done.

  Hadley blinked and shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. They felt foreign, like they had an accent to them, a tinge of a colour she didn’t recognise.

  “You took him,” she said. “You drugged him and kept him locked up. He was desperate and he did something terrible.”

  Marcus watched her with a curious stare. His blue eyes shot straight through her, burrowing into her organs and seeing what resided there.

  “Please, Marcus, my brother is a good man.”

  Wincing, Marcus looked away from her. He kept the gun on Jack but he looked over at Lachlan with determination.

  “How can I trust he’ll even come with us?” he asked. “How do I know he won’t betray us all to the first coalition we come across?”

  Hadley stepped close to Marcus. Jack jerked after her, but he stepped back again as the gun twitched in Marcus’ hand.

  “I’ll convince him,” she said. “He’s my only family. Please, let me convince him.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, a particularly troubling illusion. Hadley shifted her weight from one foot to the other, willing herself not to look to Jack or her brother for reassurance. She’d never been the person others took orders from, she’d never commanded anything. She did what she was told and yet here she was asking a man with a gun to trust her to be able to command her brother’s cooperation. Saliva filled her mouth and yet she didn’t swallow. She didn’t breathe as the illusionist figured her out.

  “Do it,” he said.

  Hadley huffed in relief and nodded quickly, glancing at Jack before rounding the couch towards Lachlan. He swiped the air in front of her face as the clouds in his eyes melted away. He, like Marcus, stared at her, blinking the lies from his vision. His lips tightened and his hand went immediately to his holster as he turned to the illusionist.

  “You bastard!” he snarled. “What the hell did you give me to do that?”

  He had taken two steps and the clip was open on his holster before Hadley managed to grab him, wrapping both her arms around his waist. She clasped his hand in place against his side.

  “Lachlan, stop,” she begged. “You have to listen to me.”

  “No, what I need to do is arrest both these men!” he snapped back, wrenching himself from her grasp. “A murderer and a drug pusher. I told you that cirque was bad news.”

  Hadley snatched the gun from the open holster. Lachlan’s face flushed with anger but, when he reached for it, she pressed her hand against his chest and held the gun as far from him as she could.

  “You will listen to me, Lachlan! For once in your fucking life, you will listen to me.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time she had sworn at her brother. They got angry with each other like most siblings did, but she couldn’t think of the last time she had been truly vicious towards him. He stared at her with wide eyes, frozen in place. Glancing down at her hand, he gave a small nod and took a step away from her.

  Hadley placed the gun carefully on the table next to the litcom. How was it that at the very moment he had decided to listen to her, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him? He would think she was mad, that she’d been pulled into the cirque’s trickery. Would he even believe her if she told him she’d seen his death?

  Running her fingers through her hair, she glanced desperately at Jack. He couldn’t help her, she knew. She’d convinced Marcus because it was her. Lachlan was her brother. There was only a nut in an engine chance he’d believe her, but no one else would even have that. She took a deep breath.

  “Lachlan, we have to go with them,” she blurted.

  He stared at her with such disappointment that Hadley almost stopped right there.

  “You hate it, I know, but you have to listen. The owner of the cirque thinks you’re a problem. They won’t hesitate to kill you.”

  “And this should make me want to run off with them?”

  His voice dripped with disdain and she cringed under his glare.

  “Lachlan, something’s happening to me.” She wanted to sob. She wanted to curl up and cry and have Lachlan remind her that everything was okay, that they’d been through worse.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I saw something. I saw you… die.”

  “Hadley, that’s ridiculous,” he said. “They’ve tricked you. Nothing will happen to me.”

  “If you don’t come with us, you’ll die. I saw it! I’m not going to let you die!”

  Lachlan shook his head and stared over her shoulder. A piece of her broke at the look in his eyes, like she was already gone to him. He took a few breaths, steadying himself, and then he pushed past her, returning to the table.

  She couldn’t look at him. The broken piece of her screamed in pain as tears welled in her eyes. He would never forgive her, she knew, but it had to be better than letting Marcus kill him. It had to be better than leaving and never knowing whether any day was his last to some unknown gun.

  “If you don’t agree I’ll tell Marcus to put an illusion on you again,” she spluttered as the first of the tears splashed down onto her cheeks. “I’ll tell him to make you think you’re running for your life until we’re on that ship.”

  Hadley straightened up. She faced him and even though tears were dripping across her skin, she didn’t flinch as she moved towards him.

  “You wouldn’t,” he breathed, looking at her over his shoulder.

  “God help me, Lachlan, you’re going to get on that ship whether you know it or not.”

  On the other side of the couch, Marcus let out a bark of laughter.

  “I like her,” he said in a loud fake whisper to Jack. “Tricky.”

  Lachlan stared at her with such hate that it almost broke her into a hundred pieces. He’d never looked at her that way. Even when he’d once snapped and told her he wished their parents had taken her too, there had still been a desperate love in him. Now there was nothing but cold and calculating hatred.

  They glared at each other and Hadley wondered who of them had gained the deepest stubborn streak. She gulped and rolled her shoulders back.

  “Marcus, do it,”

  “What?” Lachlan cried. “No!”

  Marcus stepped forward, the same vicious amusement in his face. He lowered the gun and tucked it into the back of his trousers.

  “Hadley, are you sure about this?” Jack asked.

  Her mouth was already open to tell him that yes, she was sure, she wasn’t leaving her brother behind but the buzz of the litcom su
rprised the words away from her. It vibrated against the table, all three alert lights flashing at once. They all stared at it.

  “Open it,” Marcus said.

  Lachlan looked furious at being told what to do with his own belongings. He sneered at Marcus and picked up the litcom, opening it with a series of taps. He input his passcode to open the secure alerts and read, his eyes darting back and forth and widening with each line.

  “Well?” Marcus asked.

  “What is it?” Jack added.

  Hadley stepped closer to her brother.

  “Lachlan?”

  He stretched out his jaw before answering. Staring at the litcom for a few more moments, he carefully placed it back on the table and picked up the gun. Marcus reached for his own weapon but Lachlan placed the gun in his holster and picked up the litcom again.

  “We have to go now,” he said.

  “You’re agreeing to go?”

  Lachlan looked down at her and pursed his lips, the very motion flickering pain through his face. He nodded. Hadley stretched out to hug him, but he sidestepped her and turned to Jack.

  “The coalition know you’re here. They’re coming to arrest you.”

  Jack blinked in surprise and, just as quickly, everyone was moving. Jack grabbed up his clothes from the end of the couch, Lachlan cradled the litcom against his chest with his injured hand, snatching up a backpack and tossing it to Jack. Marcus was at the window, staring out down the road.

  “Hadley, you have sixty seconds, grab whatever you need,” Lachlan ordered.

  It was almost funny that even whilst organising an escape, Lachlan sounded like a soldier giving drill orders. Hadley leapt towards her room, bashing the door open with her elbow and grabbing the bag she sometimes took to work. Handfuls of clothes were stuffed into the bag with such fervour that most of them ended up on the floor.

  The necklace Lachlan had bought for her at the cirque was the next to go in, lost in a mess of cotton and wool. She grabbed items and dropped them, not even looking at what she snatched out of the drawers.

  “Hadley, now! Come on!”

  She glanced over her shoulder at her room as she made her way to the door. She’d never see it again. It had been the house she’d lived in all her life. She might have been born within these walls and now she was leaving them for good.

  Jack and Marcus were already at the door when she appeared. Lachlan had slung an empty looking backpack onto his shoulder, the litcom still in his arms. He ushered her towards the door.

  Hadley let out a yelp and ducked under his arm. He cursed and snatched for her, missing by inches.

  “What are you doing?” he snapped as she ran, not for her room, but for his.

  Wrenching open his closet, Hadley thrust the chair in front of it and jumped up, tugging the box from its place on the shelf.

  “We don’t need that!”

  The lid came off as he snatched the box from her grasp. The old cardboard ripped down the side sending the packs of photographs tumbling all over the floor. Hadley grabbed them and the toy elephant and stuffed them into her bag.

  “You’ll be glad I remembered these,” she said as she pushed him back towards the doorway.

  “Doubt I’ll be glad of any of this,” he huffed, crossing the living room and ushering them all towards the door. He didn’t close it behind them. There was no point.

  “Trust me, Lachlan,” she said as they sped into a sprint along the dark street. “I know one day you will be.”

  They could hear the drum of footsteps coming towards them even from a street away. Lachlan glanced over his shoulder, back towards the sound, wondering if there would be a way to lead them around and into the path of the soldiers, a well-planned accident.

  He’d never be able to get Hadley away from them, not without risking the illusionist putting another trick over him. The only way to get her out of this was to pretend he was on their side, that he’d made the decision to go, out of self-preservation if nothing more. Once away from these delinquents, he’d be able to convince his commanders that she’d been tricked, that he’d been drugged. They wouldn’t hold it against them.

  “We should go round the back streets to get back to the gate.”

  The city was quiet but for the footsteps. He supposed that most of the citizens of the south-east quadrant were at the cirque, or still coming back from it. They would have a clear run to the city fence if he didn’t lead them across the soldiers.

  “No,” Jack argued. “Can’t use the gates. If they sent out that alert, no doubt they’re guarding the gates. There’s a break in the fence at the southern point near a red house.”

  Lachlan gritted his teeth and nodded. He knew the place well enough. It was where he and Hadley had slipped through to see the spiral disc stars. He’d never reported it though it nagged at him every time contraband made its way into the quadrant. Each time he considered reporting the gap found in the fence and each time he’d held his tongue, thinking that one day he might need it to go see the stars with Hadley again.

  He pushed himself harder, overtaking Hadley and then Jack, leading them south through the quiet streets. The illusionist, Marcus, brought up the rear and, when Lachlan glanced over his shoulder, a cloud of fog was rising up behind them. Turning away from Marcus’ tricks, he vowed not to look back again unless he truly had to.

  The sounds of footsteps grew fainter behind them as he led them away from the house and further through the quadrant, deeper into the quiet residential areas. His stomach rose into his throat and he tried to think of a way to turn them around, to force them into the path of the soldiers. If Jack knew about the gap in the fence, then he would surely realise if he started leading them north instead. Maybe the illusionist would realise before that, even. The man had proved he could get inside his head and make him see things that weren’t there, perhaps he could read thoughts as well? The thought alone terrified Lachlan and he kept a steady course south, determined to think only of his breathing and the thud of his feet against the concrete.

  Lachlan rounded the corner first. The fence was in sight. Lights from the streetlamps made the metal gleam gold in the dark, the razor wire topping the fence looking more deadly than ever.

  Hadley slowed beside him, glancing up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. She held her tongue and Lachlan couldn’t decide if he was glad for it or not. He wanted to yell at her. He wanted to snap and disagree with whatever she said. There was nothing to snap at whilst she remained silent, just the snorts through her nose as she caught her breath.

  It was almost a quarter mile to the path that led south from the last gate and yet they could hear the rumble of chatter from the revellers returning from the cirque. He could pick out their glee as they regaled each other with stories of the things they had seen. Children shrieked over the thud of so many boots and adults laughed as if they had only just remembered how.

  They crept between the houses and the fence, keeping to the shadows as the long unkempt sand grass brushed their legs. Uncertainty prickled along Lachlan’s arms and into painful goosebumps. He rubbed his good hand up and down his arm, glancing over his shoulder with every step as they made their way behind the houses towards the gap. What if some of the cirque goers came through this way instead of going through the gate? They had all seen the alert, they would recognise the man they had with them. They would recognise him, their coalition captain, helping him escape. Lachlan gulped and kept his back tighter against the wall.

  “We need to move,” Marcus hissed from the back of the line. “If they’re back, it’s got to be at least twelve-thirty.”

  Lachlan gritted his teeth but he quickened his step just the same.

  The shutters on the maroon farm-house were all pulled closed, the windows dark where the slats were split or missing. He hoped that the owners were at the cirque, perhaps dawdling in their return knowing that they, at least, didn’t have to go through the gate.

  Jack slipped past them and out of the deeper dark. The
fence rattled as he ran his fingers over the links, stopping at the place where they came away from the post. He yanked back the wire mesh, holding a gap open, just wide enough for them to wriggle through one at a time. Lachlan stepped towards Jack and grasped the mesh beside him.

  “Get Hadley through,” he said. “Don’t wait, just run.”

  Nodding, Jack released the fence and went to Hadley. He took her backpack from her and held her hand as she crouched, getting into position to edge through the gap. Lachlan froze as the cold barrel of Marcus’ gun was pressed into the side of his neck.

  “You think I’m falling for that?” he demanded. “Let us go, then you run back to the coalition?”

  Anger bristled through him and he glanced at the illusionist out of the corner of his eye. Hadley looked up at him, her eyes shining at him through the dark. Jack kept hold of Hadley’s hand as he glanced over his shoulder at them.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Lachlan sneered. “I told you the coalition were coming. I’m letting you take my sister first.”

  Marcus lifted his hand in front of Lachlan’s face and snapped his fingers. The fence dissolved into smoke, slipping through his fingers and drifting away on the air. Through the mist, Hadley squealed.

  The illusion was gone as quick as it came. A scratch, oozing blood, had spread down Hadley’s cheek, and there was a long tear in her shirt where the edge of the mesh had flipped back against her. Lachlan jumped forward and grabbed it, easing it away from her without causing more damage.

  “You ever do that again and I’ll shoot you,” Lachlan snarled at Marcus. “No illusions, just a bullet in your head.”

  Marcus almost grinned as he lowered the gun.

  Hadley breathed a sigh of relief as she slipped out on the other side of the fence. Getting to her feet, she took the backpack through the gap and stepped away. Jack followed her, wasting no time in dropping to his knees and crawling through on all fours. The mesh scratched along his back and waist where Lachlan couldn’t hold it far enough away, but the man didn’t show the slightest discomfort.

  Next, it was Marcus’s turn. He kept the gun in his hand as he bent and put his head and shoulders through first and then dragged the rest of his body through.