‘Do you know the time?’ she asks.
‘No,’ he answers. ‘My watch broke when I fell.’
Is anyone on their way yet?
‘I’m sorry I got you into this,’ Mallory says.
‘That’s bollocks,’ says Warden. Mallory stiffens. ‘Not the sorry part, I mean,’ he adds quickly, ‘just the you got me into it part. I’m not an idiot, Echo. I made my own decisions and I knew what I could be getting into. Well, not exactly, but I knew there were risks and I came anyway. You didn’t ask me to. My decision. Yes, I was worried about you, but I cared about The Asker, too. I trusted him, too.’
‘But if I’d listened to you – ’
‘The Asker’s the bastard in all this,’ he says forcefully, ‘so don’t go blaming yourself. You went to help a friend and that’s a sodding brilliant way to be and you shouldn’t want to change it or feel bad for it, and I don’t either.’ His voice drops then. ‘I don’t regret it,’ he says. Mallory’s fingers flex against the covers. ‘I don’t even regret spending the money I was saving for the Lampertz safe. No, that’s a lie, maybe I do regret that a little bit,’ he says, but she can hear the smile behind it. ‘You should see – ’
‘I’m glad you came,’ Mallory says, the words spilling out. ‘Not glad as in you’re hurt or in danger, but just…’ Her fists ball up the fabric. ‘Shit,’ she says, and he actually laughs. She glares at him.
‘Me too,’ he shrugs. She looks back up at the ceiling, face flushing because all of a sudden she has that desire to reach out to him again, to hold on tight and never let go… She can’t, though – she can’t do that, and why is she thinking it, and why does she want it and…
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
She doesn’t reach out. She moves her arm a little closer to his, though, and she knows he realizes because his breathing catches. They stay lying like that, arms closer together than the foot gap the bed could afford them to be apart, somehow, gradually ending up so close that they are almost touching…
Almost.
‘It’s the number of mistakes I’ve made,’ Mallory says, speaking softly into the silence.
‘What?’ asks Warden.
‘Six,’ she tells him, ‘the six in Echo Six. It’s my mistakes.’ She turns her head to him and he’s close, and she swallows but she stays as she is. ‘Whenever you do a hack,’ she goes on, ‘there are some things you can’t account for, some security measures you could never know about – like when the Feds tried to trace me. I’m not talking about those. I’m talking about mistakes that I’ve made, things I’ve done less well than I could have, that could have allowed someone else to know I was there, to get closer to tracking me than they otherwise would have. I remember every single one, every time I left an echo of myself behind. Six mistakes. It doesn’t matter what you can do, or even what you have done, you are only as good as your last mistake. So I am Echo Six, and it reminds me to be careful every time I see it.’
Warden smiles, lets out this gentle laugh – not an unkind laugh – and his eyes seem to glisten.
‘So it’s genuinely not your favorite scientific phenomena combined with your birthday then?’ he asks.
‘No,’ Mallory says, ‘not that.’ And then she smiles a little too. ‘My favorite guess was actually the place you like to hide your destroyer in Battleship one.’
Warden laughs again.
‘Yeah, I liked that too. So what are you now then?’ he says. ‘Six was over two and half years ago, when you joined the Forum.’
‘Still six,’ she says. ‘At least, I was until yesterday.’
‘That wasn’t – ’ Warden begins.
‘It doesn’t really matter now,’ Mallory interrupts. ‘The Forum is gone. Whatever happens here, I can’t be Echo any more.’ The statement goes thick in her mouth.
‘Hey,’ Warden says, ‘hey, it’s just a name. The important part, the part that makes Echo matter at all, is you. Like I said before.’
‘So it won’t feel strange not being Warden?’
‘I guess it will, but I’m still me, right? I’m still the person who was behind that laptop, whatever anyone calls me.’
Mallory looks away again. It suddenly feels too much.
‘Yes,’ she manages.
They’re quiet a while, then, ‘Why did you start?’ he asks.
‘What?’
‘Hacking,’ Warden says. ‘I told you before, I did it because I liked online gaming, liked puzzles, liked figuring things out, and just sort of slipped into it. You’ve never told me how you started. It was always in the ask and I’ll stop talking to you for twenty minutes questions category.’
‘…I did it to find my mom,’ she says, telling it to the bobbled ceiling tiles, to the Warden behind the screen. Telling it, though she’s never told anyone before. ‘I was eleven when my parents split. My dad got custody, but we’d see my mom once a week at first. Jed and I, we’d go over to my nana Ruthie’s place across town on Sundays, and she’d be there and we’d spend the afternoon. Then she started missing a few and it became every two weeks, then once a month. Then, when I was twelve, she just stopped coming.’ Mallory’s nails dig in to the bare skin of her hands. ‘I wanted to know why,’ she says, speaking faster, ‘but Roger wouldn’t tell me. I asked him where she’d gone but he wouldn’t tell me that either, said we should just leave it, there was nothing we could do. She wouldn’t answer my calls or emails, and Ruthie said she didn’t know anything, so I stopped taking Jed to see her because that was bullshit.
‘I knew the name of my mom’s lawyer. I’d heard her talking to him on the phone once, and I knew they’d have to keep copies of everything – things she’d said, where she was now. I didn’t know how to hack when I started, so I looked things up, took my time and I worked it out.’ She stops.
‘Where had she gone?’ Warden asks – because he’s Warden and he doesn’t leave asking things like that.
‘I don’t know,’ Mallory says. ‘I found the divorce documents first, and I found out she hadn’t wanted custody at all.’ There’s an ache in her chest as she says it, an ache though she’s known it so long now. ‘She’d requested we go to Roger, even though she knew he wasn’t right any more, knew he couldn’t…’ She swallows again. ‘And he hadn’t contested it. And when I knew that, I stopped looking, because that was all the answer that mattered. She didn’t want us. We were better off without her,’ she mutters. ‘Jed was seven last time we saw her. He was only seven and she left him. So, she wasn’t a good person. Not leaving him like that. It doesn’t matter now,’ she repeats. She pauses. ‘I didn’t find her, but in the looking I found something else that fit me, something I was good at, that I could do, that I could control. That’s what I remember that day for, not what she did.’
Warden tells her he’s sorry, like people say they’re sorry about those kinds of bad things that happen. He sounds like he really means it, though. She shifts awkwardly, taking a deep breath… and then she finds their hands are touching, pinky to pinky, the small gap between them bridged, though she doesn’t really know who did it. And she feels her heart rate lift, and feels her hand tingling, feels the skin all the way up her arm goose pimple… But she doesn’t move it away, and neither does he, and they lie like that for a long time.
For too long.
To start with, Mallory feels almost safe like that, almost as if they’re hidden away together in darkness. But then the minutes continue to tick by; they tick by and no one comes. They hear no sound of doors knocked in or shouted warnings or boots upstairs. And so her adrenaline starts to rise and she keeps wondering, keeps wondering what time it is… She tries not to think about it, tries not to second guess or overanalyze because there’s nothing she can do now anyway, but her mind is not exactly something it’s easy to shut down.
They aren’t going to get here in time. She starts to think it, despite the trying not to. She starts to feel panic rising. It must be almost time. The FBI would have started receiving the ping about an
hour ago. They should have been able to trace it. All they had to do was look, but…
Stupid, she thinks. Stupid idiots!
Now, they only have minutes. It can’t be more than that, if it hasn’t passed five thirty already… And she shouldn’t have messed with the code… She should have just finished the virus like she was supposed to, not tried to come up with some crazy plan to fix everything, thinking she was smarter, thinking she was better, that she could control it and couldn’t be beaten and now…
And now…
No, no, no…
What will The Asker do when he realizes?
What will he do?
‘Echo?’ Warden says, his voice cutting into her panic. ‘It’s probably nearly time, isn’t it?’ The words send a fresh chill through her body. His voice is gentle, like he’s trying to keep control himself too, but she can hear the fear there now, whatever he said before. ‘Echo,’ he repeats. Then, ‘Is it all right if I hold your hand?’ The question hangs in the air, his voice shaking a little. ‘I’m sorry,’ he continues, just like Warden always continues through things, ‘I’m really sorry. I know you don’t like the touch thing, it’s just that, well, I’m kind of scared shitless over here.’ She turns her head and looks across at him, and he’s looking back at her, and their hands seem to press closer together, even as he keeps speaking, and Mallory feels it, she feels it. And it’s scary, but it’s different because it’s him, and she knows him, really knows him, and… ‘I’ve been trying to be brave,’ he tells her, ‘you know, like you’re supposed to try and be in these kind of situations in movies and things, but, truth be told, I’m a few seconds away from full on crying and I’d just rather not really.’
And she nods, even as her body tenses – she nods because she wants to, though it scares her. She nods because she remembers how it felt before to be closer to him, and even though part of her is screaming to run away from that, part of her isn’t, and that part of her is more afraid of someone coming through that door at the top of the stairs and taking him away or hurting him and she just wants to hold on to him and protect him…
Because it’s Warden…
And they both lift their hands at the same time and they knock together clumsily. But then their fingers find each other and they interlock and they take hold, and there is no glove between them, only skin against skin.
And it sends shivers of fire shooting right up Mallory’s arm.
And she can feel her hairs standing on end, every fiber in her body suddenly focused towards her hand and the fire radiating out from it…
And she wants to let go, to get up and rush to the other side of the room…
And she also wants to grip on tighter…
‘Thank you,’ Warden whispers, and the relief in his voice is so powerful, so strong, that it snaps something inside of her and suddenly it isn’t enough…
She does grip tighter.
And he responds.
And it feels urgent in a different way than it had been before…
And she holds his hand so tightly it must be hurting, but it’s still not enough…
It’s still not…
‘Okay,’ she hears Warden say, almost like he can tell, like he’s feeling it too. ‘Okay,’ he says, and then she feels him turn, feels his body move on the bed, closer to her, closer…
And she feels his free hand around her waist – gently, ever so gently – pulling her closer. And her skin feels as if it’s alive and buzzing, but she doesn’t pull away. She lets him hold her, and she holds him back. She leans against him, wrapping her free arm around him, her other still holding tight to his hand.
And it doesn’t feel like it did before. It doesn’t feel safe. It feels overwhelming and sparking, and it blanks out even the new sounds of shouting from upstairs.
And she clings on to him…
And it’s still not enough…
And she feels it…
And he feels it…
And their faces are so close already, and they both lean forwards, hidden in the dim light, safe in the darkness, anonymous in the darkness…
And, for the briefest moment, before Mallory even thinks it, their lips meet…
And then she’s kissing him, though she’s never kissed anyone before…
And it’s soft and warm and terrifying and electric and…
‘Warden,’ she whispers against him.
Then the door to the basement bursts open.
Timing
Mallory jerks away as light spills down from above.
‘What did you do?’ shouts The Asker, silhouetted in the doorway. ‘What the hell did you do?!’
Too late, Mallory thinks. She timed it wrong.
Everything moves too quickly from there. They come down the stairs then, all of them. She stands, putting herself between them and Warden, but he’s trying to get up to do the same, and it doesn’t matter anyway because arms grab hold of her – The Asker’s, Weevil’s – and drag her towards the staircase. Mallory yells, gasping at the touch, so different and harsh and horrible.
‘Quiet,’ The Asker snaps. ‘Grab the boy,’ he orders the others. Mallory hears Warden cry out in pain and tries to turn, but Weevil hits her and, this time, The Asker says nothing. They half drag, half carry her up the stairs, hands creeping and firm, and she’s so dizzy with it by the time they reach the kitchen, she thinks she might actually pass out.
‘Let go of me,’ she gasps. It comes out whiny and panicked, not like her voice. She kicks out, fingers clawing against Weevil. ‘Let go!’
He yells as she frees a hand and it catches him in the side.
‘Hold it!’ The Asker shouts. He has the gun out; one hand still holding her, the other holding it to her head. He looks blurry. Mallory realizes she’s crying.
‘Please, let go,’ she begs him, even though she shouldn’t be begging, not after what he’s done. She should be shouting and fighting, and it’s not even the gun that’s really stopping her, it’s, ‘Please, let go. Just let go.’ She cries it over and over, unable to think beyond their hands gripping her.
And how ridiculous is that?
Warden is being dragged after her and she should be doing something about that – she should be fucking well doing something about that – but all she does is whimper ‘Please’ over and over.
The Asker finally releases her. He tells Weevil to do the same. Mallory stumbles away from them, into the corner of the room, her skin feeling as if it’s writhing and rippling around her.
‘Told you she’d be crazy,’ says Scarlet, she and Tower supporting Warden into the room, Sneak just behind them. ‘Just like Daedalus. Might be a genius, but you can’t cope with all that in your little head, can you, sugar?’ She sits Warden down in a kitchen chair, too hard, and his face crinkles up.
‘You bitch,’ Mallory spits.
‘Enough!’ shouts The Asker. The room goes silent and Mallory’s eyes flick back to him. His whole bearing is rigid. ‘Tower,’ he says, ‘go and watch out front again. Weevil, the back. Sneak, start wiping down everything we’ve used; door knobs, chairs, the bathroom – ’
‘But – ’ begins Weevil.
‘Just shut up and do it.’ The Asker takes a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself. ‘She’s messed with the code and that code has gone out worldwide, so we’re not taking any chances till we know exactly what she did. You watch that street and you clear this house.’ They go, the kitchen door swinging closed behind Sneak. The Asker runs a nervous hand through his hair, pacing the room. ‘Scarlet, clean up in here,’ he says. ‘We can’t stay.’ She nods, and starts rubbing down surfaces with the herb-covered dishcloth.
The Asker looks back at Mallory. He knows what she did, he knows. She glances at the clock. Five forty-two.
Of course he knows.
‘We have a problem,’ he tells her, voice clipped. ‘Something has gone wrong with the virus. It should have grown exponentially, but it didn’t. It did at first, but then, a few minutes ago, it starte
d deleting itself. Can you explain that, Echo?’ Mallory stares at him, heart pounding. She shakes her head. ‘Don’t lie to me!’
‘Daedalus must have – ’
‘No,’ he snaps, ‘it wasn’t Daedalus. It was you. What did you do? Manage to leave some of his kill switch inside?’
‘No – ’
‘Tell me!’
Her eyes are uncontrollably drawn to the gun still in his hand. The Asker follows her gaze, then he lifts it and he points it at Warden, who looks so pale in the light, she’s surprised he hasn’t collapsed. Blood is soaking through the bandage round his leg.
‘No,’ Mallory stammers. ‘No!’ She steps towards The Asker. His arm swings, pointing the gun at her instead.
‘Can you fix it?’ he demands.
She can’t…
Her mind races, desperately scrambling for some kind of solution. Of course she can’t… They don’t even have the source code any more. Everything on the laptop disappeared when it was sent out. She has nothing to fix. He must know…
And his gun’s pointed at her…
And…
I’m going to die, she realizes, the thought piercing through her. Her limbs feel weak. No one got her message. She got it wrong. She failed. And now I’m going to die, and Warden’s going to die, and oh shit, oh shit… Jed’s face flashes up in her mind, and then Roger’s, and… No, no, no…
‘Echo,’ The Asker repeats. He moves the gun back to Warden, walks right up to him and presses it onto his forehead so the metal imprints against the skin, ‘Can you fix it?’ he asks. Warden’s jaw is clenched, his pale, freckled face sweaty, but he’s trying to hold himself up straight. There are tears coming down his cheeks, but he looks The Asker right in the eye.
Lie, Mallory tells herself. Just lie. Make something up. Buy some more time…
Echoes (US Edition) Page 28
