Split Second

by Sophie McKenzie

  Aaron watched, his face full of anxiety as I pulled the larger pieces of glass out of the frame, then crawled over the window ledge. My pants tore on a jagged edge, the glass piercing through to my skin. The pain was sharp. I stifled the yelp that rose inside me then leaped down, into the room.

  “You’re Nat, aren’t you?” Aaron gasped. “Jas’s brother?”

  “Shh, yes,” I whispered, feeling for the tear in my pants. The skin beneath was broken, but not bleeding. I took my knife and sliced through the rope around Aaron’s wrists. “Do you know where Charlie is?”

  “No. Nat, she kidnapped me. Forced me into—”

  “Shh.” I hesitated. Charlie could be anywhere in the house. If I was going to find her, I’d be better on my own than with Aaron slowing me down. “Over here.” I led him to the window and pointed through the broken glass to the trees.

  “Where are we?” Aaron whispered.

  “EFA operations base,” I said.

  Aaron stared at me blankly.

  “Never mind, I’ll explain later. Head over there, to that dip in the trees. I’m going to find Charlie, then meet you there.”

  “What? You have to be kidding,” Aaron hissed. “We need to get away from here as fast as—”

  “I’ve got to find Charlie,” I said stubbornly. “If I don’t make it out in ten minutes, then head west, through the trees. There’s a road about fifteen minutes away.”

  Aaron opened his mouth as if to protest again, then clearly thought better of it. He nodded. “Okay.”

  I searched the room for anything that might help find Charlie. A thin beam of moonlight shone across the bottles and cans on the shelves and floor. I scanned them quickly: bleach, diesel fuel, ammonium nitrate. I frowned. Those last two would make a powerful explosive. They had probably been used to create the bomb I had set off. I shuddered, pushing the memory away. There was no point looking at these bottles. They were of no use in helping me work out where Charlie was.

  Aaron had crawled out of the window and was running across the field toward the trees. I crept to the door and opened it a crack. The hallway outside was empty, though I could see lights on at the other end. Voices drifted toward me from the hallway. Charlie could be in any of these rooms. I had to search them.

  I tiptoed through the hallway, checking the rooms on either side. They were all dark and empty. I came to the kitchen. Peered inside. Also empty. I crept over to the door that led down to the floor below, then hesitated. For all I knew this door was the only way into and out of the basement. There certainly weren’t any windows down there. It would make sense to try the other rooms in the house first, rather than risk going belowground, where I could easily be trapped.

  As I turned away I heard a faint tapping sound. I stopped. The sound ended, then started again.

  Three short taps, then three long ones, then three short again.

  It was the Morse code distress signal that Taylor had taught us all those months ago.

  Charlie.

  I held my breath. The tapping sound was very faint. Where was it coming from? I crouched on the floor, my ear next to the pipes that ran along the kitchen baseboard. The tapping was more distinct now.

  It was coming from the basement. I crept back to the door that led downstairs and pressed my ear against the wood. I couldn’t hear anything now but then I wouldn’t if Charlie was sending out her SOS through the pipes. Gently, I eased open the door. The stairs below were shrouded in darkness. I tiptoed down. Down. I reached the stone floor at the bottom. I was in the basement.

  Light seeped out from under the door of the operations room on the left. The dim rumble of voices drifted toward me. I turned right. The air was much colder down here. My breath misted in front of me. I concentrated on moving as swiftly and silently as possible. The first two doors I passed were open, the rooms beyond empty. Around the corner I reached the third.

  It was so dark down here I could barely see the door in front of me but as I stood and listened, the tapping sound was audible again. I felt for the handle. It was locked. I scratched at the wood, pressing my ear against the door, listening hard for movement inside.

  The tapping stopped. Footsteps sounded inside the room.

  I scratched the wood again.

  “Hello?” The whisper from inside the room was faint, but unmistakable.

  I had found her.

  “It’s Nat,” I hissed, relief mingling with anxiety as I wondered how on earth I was going to get through the door.

  “Oh.” Charlie made a sound: half gasp, half sob.

  I felt for the door handle again. My fingers traced down the wood, to the metal lock, then along to the gap between the door and the frame.

  If I had a gun I could have blasted the lock away.

  But I didn’t.

  I would have to use my knife.

  “I’m going to get you out,” I whispered.

  But, even as I took out the knife and slid the thin blade between the gap, footsteps sounded on the stairs above.

  CHARLIE

  I backed away from the door, holding my breath. Nat had found me. I couldn’t even begin to think how he had managed it. I could hear him pressing something metallic against the lock of the door. I thought back to our training sessions on “exit techniques.” Nat was a great shot with a gun, but had found it virtually impossible to open locks using the flat of a school ID.

  “Press the top of the lock,” I whispered. “Use the tip of—”

  “Yes, thanks, I’ve got it,” Nat muttered.

  I stood back, chewing on my lip. An agonizing few seconds passed—he was surely taking too long—and then the door swung open. Nat stood in the dim light, a dusting of rain on his hair and a dirty smudge on his face. It was unbelievably good to see him. And then footsteps sounded nearby. There was no time. Nat held out his hand. I raced out of my prison, toward him.

  He grabbed my arm, pulling me through the hallway. I gasped. Two male soldiers were running toward us.

  “Get away,” Nat ordered. He held out the knife in front of him.

  The soldiers hesitated. Then the one on the left lurched forward. He grabbed Nat’s wrist, twisting it. Nat yelped with pain. The knife clattered to the floor. The second soldier was coming for me. I ducked under his arm, then spun around, fists raised. I steadied myself, focused, then punched. My fist met the man’s stomach, my entire body weight behind the blow. He doubled over, just as Nat slid out from the first soldier’s grip.

  We raced along. Up the stairs to the kitchen. Nat grabbed my hand as we pounded through the hallway. He tugged me after him. Seconds later we were in the office-cum-storage room where Taylor had brought me and Aaron earlier. Aaron’s bindings, sliced through, lay on the floor.

  “This is how I got in,” Nat said, rushing over to the window. The glass was broken, cold air sweeping in. “Aaron’s already out.”

  I stared at him, overwhelmed that he’d risked so much to save us. “Where is he?” I asked.

  “In the trees.”

  I headed for the window. Voices rang out behind us from the hallway.

  “The boy’s got a knife, sir.”

  “Charlie’s out of the Hole.”

  “Where are they?” That was Roman Riley. He sounded furious. And only yards away.

  I hauled myself onto the ledge, pushing away a large piece of glass.

  Out in the hallway, Riley was giving orders. He was sending some of the soldiers upstairs, others into the field outside the farmhouse. I raised my knee to the sill.

  “Stop.” It was Riley.

  I looked around.

  Riley stood, panting, in the doorway. He had a furious scowl on his face and a Glock pistol in his hand.

  “Come here, Charlie,” he said.

  “No,” I said.

  “Please, Charlie,” Riley said. “I don’t want to hurt you. I already explained that I want you to join us.”

  “And I already explained that I don’t want to join you,” I said.

>   Riley pointed his gun at Nat. “If you don’t come with me now, I’ll kill him.”

  I gasped. Nat was blinking furiously, his focus on the gun in Riley’s hands.

  “If you kill him,” I said, trying to keep my voice even, “then I will never join you. In fact, I will make it my life’s mission to track you down and kill you, wherever you go, whatever you do.”

  “Charlie, please.” Riley gave a wry laugh. “Okay, okay, calm down.” He lowered his arm and placed his gun carefully on the stone floor in front of him. “Listen to me, I haven’t told you everything yet. When you hear the truth, you’ll want to stay.”

  “Charlie’s not staying,” Nat said and I could hear the slight tremble in his voice. “You tried to kill me earlier. You’ll do the same to her.”

  “No.” Riley met his gaze. “No, she’s safe . . . she’s going to stay with the EFA, it’s where she belongs.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Nat urged. “Go. Get out of here.”

  I hesitated, half in, half out of the window. Riley made no move to pick up his gun. He wasn’t going to kill me. And he meant it when he said he wanted me to be part of the EFA, though I didn’t understand why. But Nat wasn’t safe. And he had risked everything to find me. I couldn’t leave him now.

  I swung my legs off the window ledge and jumped back down, into the office. I stood next to Nat.

  “If I stay, will you let Nat go?” I said.

  “No way,” Nat protested. “You’re coming with me. We’re both leaving.”

  “It’s a weakness to care so much about this boy, Charlie,” Riley said. “He will lie to you, just like all the other people you’ve ever trusted.”

  “Shut up,” I said.

  “It’s the truth,” Riley insisted. “For example, Nat’s known I was the EFA Commander for a long time. Ever since the induction training. He didn’t tell you the truth about that, did he?”

  “I only kept that secret because I trusted you,” Nat spat. He turned to me. “He made me believe everything about the EFA needed to be secret so that it could defend and protect people when the law couldn’t.”

  “Which it does,” Riley said smoothly.

  “No,” Nat insisted. “You don’t care about people or the law. You just care about being powerful. That’s why you secretly plant bombs—to make people afraid, so that you can pretend you’re some big hero, looking after them.” He paused. “You did the bomb tonight and . . . and you did the Canal Street market bombing last year too, didn’t you?”

  I stared at Riley’s face. He was looking intently at Nat. Then he glanced across to me.

  “Yes,” he said.

  A beat passed. I sucked in my breath. “You killed my mother,” I said. “You’re actually admitting to murdering her.”

  Riley sighed. “I’m sorry about your mother, Charlie. And about Lucas. Sometimes difficult decisions have to be made . . . and innocent people get hurt.”

  “That’s not good enough,” I said, my voice shaking with emotion.

  “Charlie, we can talk about all this later.” Riley took a step toward me. “As a show of good faith, I will let Nat go, but I need you to stay.”

  “Fine.” I moved closer to him. If I could just get that gun from the floor . . .

  Then what? A little voice sounded in my head. Are you really prepared to shoot Riley?

  “It’s a lie. A trap,” Nat insisted. “He’s going to kill us both.”

  “No.” Riley held my gaze. “I told you, Charlie, I value you. I want you to join us. And there’s something else . . . something that makes you special. . . . We didn’t know until a week ago, but it makes all the difference. . . .”

  I glanced at Nat. His gaze flickered to the gun, then over to the diesel cans on the floor and to the bottles of ammonium nitrate on the shelf above.

  “You should stay with Riley,” he said. “Riley’s got a gun.”

  I looked at him. What was he saying? Nat shot me a quick glance.

  He wanted me to make a grab for the gun. I could see it in his eyes. I didn’t know what his plan was after that, but he was asking me to trust him.

  I turned back to Riley and took a deep breath.

  “Okay,” I said, raising my hands in a gesture of surrender. I kept my eyes off the gun on the floor but took a step toward it.

  “I’ll stay with you,” I said. “On the condition that you let Nat go.”

  I took another step toward Riley. I was just inches away from the gun now. Riley eyed me warily. I could feel Nat watching and my guts twisted into a knot. I was going to get only one chance to make this work.

  “So what’s the big secret?” I asked. “What’s this thing that makes me so spec—” As I spoke, I dropped to the floor. In one, swift move, my hand darted toward the gun. Riley saw what I was doing. He made a grab for the pistol himself.

  He was too late. My fingers curled around the cold metal. Quick as a flash I darted up again and jumped backward, away from Riley’s outstretched arm.

  “Don’t.” His mouth fell open in horror.

  “Shut up.” I pointed the gun at his face. My heart thudded in my chest.

  This was it. My chance to take revenge for Mum. The man behind the Canal Street market bomb was finally at my mercy. All I had to do was pull the trigger. Behind me I could hear Nat moving around the room. Unscrewing something. Pouring liquid onto the floor.

  “Nearly there, Charlie,” he said.

  I took a step away from Riley. All I had to do was pull the trigger.

  “The EFA is just one branch of a larger organization.” Riley spoke fast, urgently. “There are other groups. And their leader, my leader, is an ex-soldier like me . . . someone who has a deep desire to meet you, to keep you safe. . . .”

  I stared at him. What was he talking about?

  “Give me that, Charlie,” Nat said, appearing beside me. He took the gun from my hands. “Get over to the window.”

  I backed across the room, my eyes still on Riley. What was Nat going to do? Was he going to shoot Riley?

  “Outside, Charlie,” Nat urged. “Now.”

  Still watching Riley, I hooked my leg over the window ledge, then crawled onto the sill. I could hear Riley’s men across the field, shouting instructions to one another. Riley kept his gaze on me.

  “If you go, you won’t meet him,” he hissed.

  “Shut up, Riley.” Nat turned to me. “Don’t listen to his lies.”

  He was right, wasn’t he? They were lies. Riley was just trying to keep me here, to manipulate me again. I jumped down outside, landing on the gravel with a crunch. Right away Nat clambered onto the ledge, still pointing the gun at Riley. A second later he, too, was outside. Riley watched me. He met my gaze and shook his head, like he was telling me I was making a huge mistake. For a moment, I doubted myself. Maybe he was telling the truth after all?

  “Who is it?” I asked, suddenly full of fear “Who wants to meet me?”

  Riley kept his eyes on mine.

  “It’s your father, Charlie,” he said. “He’s still alive.”

  NAT

  I barely heard what Riley said. I focused on the diesel and the ammonium nitrate, now pooling together on the floor in front of the desk. Then I steadied the gun and took aim.

  “Go,” I whispered to Charlie. “Head for the trees.”

  I fired. With a flash, the pool of liquid exploded into fire.

  I turned as Riley, on the other side of the fire, roared out in fury. Charlie hadn’t moved. I grabbed her hand.

  “Run!” I shouted.

  For a second I was dragging her after me, then Charlie found her stride and we raced, hand in hand, across the field. Behind us, shouts echoed into the air. I headed for the woods. Shots fired all around us. We let go of each other’s hands and ran harder, away from the soldiers. Seconds later, we reached the cover of trees. I darted along, weaving in and out of the trees, looking for Aaron.

  But Aaron was nowhere to be seen. I stopped running. Charlie raced up,
panting.

  “Where is he?” she hissed.

  “I don’t know.” I swore under my breath. Through the trees I could just make out the dark silhouettes of three soldiers entering the woods only yards away. Across the field, fire blazed from the farmhouse.

  “Aaron must be hiding from the soldiers. Come on,” I whispered.

  We crept over the fallen leaves, trying to make our steps as light as possible.

  “Did you hear what Riley said about my father?” Charlie whispered. Even in the dark of the woods I could see her face was pale, her eyes full of shock.

  “It was a lie,” I whispered back. “Don’t you think your mum or your uncle would have said something if your dad was really alive? Riley was just trying to manipulate us again.” A twig snapped to our left. I stopped walking. “Who’s there?” I hissed.

  Silence.

  Tensing, I raised the gun.

  A figure emerged from behind a tree. It was Aaron, his scared eyes glinting in the moonlight.

  “Let’s go.” I shoved the gun in my pocket and the three of us raced through the trees toward the road.

  I tried to keep my footsteps as soft as possible. Charlie was making barely any sound, but Aaron was heavy-footed, his steps echoing loudly around the wood. We ran on. I tripped. Fell. Forced myself up. My lungs strained for breath. I gripped Charlie’s hand as she sped along beside me. We had to make it to the road before the soldiers found us.

  A shot rang out, loud in the night air. It came from the left. I swerved to the right, dragging Charlie after me. I could hear Aaron’s breath, raw and ragged, as he turned too.

  We raced on.

  The men chasing us crashed through the trees. They were close. Too close. The trees thinned. The roar of a truck filled the air. We must be near the road now. I sped up, Charlie on one side, Aaron on the other. I flew past the last tree. A truck was thundering along the road toward us. It passed a masked soldier emerging from the woods just thirty yards away.