by Blake Jon
“I don’t believe you,” I replied.
“What, do you think I’m working for Comprot?” asked Kris.
“You could be,” I replied.
Kris just laughed.
“Look at all the information you’re getting,” I said.
Kris laughed again.
“You’re using me somehow,” I said.
Kris circled me slowly, then suddenly sprang forward.
“OK,” he said. “You got me. Special Officer 265. Bioterrorism Division.”
“I’m not laughing,” I replied.
“It’s hopeless,” said Kris. “I admit everything, and you still don’t believe me.”
“You’re right, it’s hopeless,” I replied.
“What are you going to do about it then?” asked Kris.
“I could go on alone,” I replied.
“You reckon?” said Kris with a smirk.
“Yes,” I replied. “I do.”
“Suit yourself,” said Kris. “I’ll see Fay again then.”
“Fay?” I scoffed. “That’s her name, is it—Fay?”
“Ooh, Jade,” said Kris. “You almost sound jealous.”
“Kris, just shut up and get out,” I snapped.
Kris stooped and ruffled Feela one more time. “Goodnight, love of my life,” he said. Then, just as he was leaving, he added, “And good-night to you too, Feela.”
I sank back beneath the covers, upset and confused. Part of me really believed I should strike out on my own. Part of me sensed that this episode with Kris was just one chapter in a much longer story.
Chapter Twenty
The moment Amelie walked in I sensed something was wrong. She always seemed so unruffled, so sublime. But now she looked deadly worried.
“The group warning’s gone out,” she said.
“What happened?” asked Raff.
“They raided Frida,” replied Amelie.
“Uh-oh,” said Raff.
“Who’s Frida?” I asked.
“She’s our secretary,” replied Amelie. “She’s got the database. All our details are on it.”
“How did that happen?” said Raff.
“Must have been someone at the party,” replied Amelie.
I looked accusingly at Kris. Amelie laid a hand on my arm. “Sorry, lovely,” she said. “You’ll have to go.”
“Group warning means we’ve got to clear away any evidence,” explained Raff.
“You mean they could raid here?” I asked.
Raff nodded. The memory of being raided came back in every cruel detail. I did not want to go through that again.
“But will you still be able to take me?” I asked.
“Us,” corrected Kris.
From Amelie’s expression I immediately knew the answer.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said.
“I’m sorry, lovely,” she replied. “Now they’ve got our details the first thing they’ll check is the vehicle database.”
“Can’t we borrow someone else’s van?” asked Kris.
“Everyone we know’s on that list,” replied Raff.
“We’ll nick one,” said Kris.
“No we won’t,” I replied.
“Why not?” said Kris. “We took the truck. We took the boat.”
“That was different,” I said.
“Forget it,” said Amelie. “You won’t get ten kilometers in a stolen vehicle.”
Raff thought for a moment. “There is the skoot,” he said.
“That’s a point,” said Amelie. “That’s not registered.”
“Can either of you ride a skoot?” asked Raff.
“I can,” I replied.
Kris looked at me doubtfully.
“There was a track down the marina,” I explained.
“Oh,” said Kris. “Daddy bought you one.”
“We hired it by the hour, actually,” I replied.
Raff and Amelie weren’t quite sure what to make of this conversation.
“Are you happy to ride it, Jade?” asked Amelie.
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” I replied.
“I reckon I can ride it, probably,” said Kris.
I ignored him. “What about Feela?” I asked.
“There’s a big pannier on the back,” said Amelie. “Her box should go in OK.”
“It’s got holes so she can breathe,” added Raff.
“Let’s do it,” I said.
The skoot was a lot bigger than the ones I was used to, but the controls all seemed to be the same. I just needed to give it a trial run—but first I had to get Kris off the front seat. He’d climbed aboard as soon as they’d brought it out, and was doing his best to look like he knew what he was doing.
“Throttle on the right hand?” he asked.
“That’s it,” said Raff.
“Gear-change on the left?” he asked.
“It’s automatic,” replied Amelie.
“All skoots are automatic,” I added.
“Just testing you,” said Kris.
Kris checked out a few more things, whistling as he did so. I’d never heard him whistle before, and it wasn’t very tuneful.
“OK,” said Kris. “I think I’ve got everything.”
“Good,” replied Amelie. “Hop off now so Jade can get the feel of it.”
I was beginning to truly love Amelie. Kris, on the other hand, was going off her fast. But he did as he was told and I quickly took his place. The saddle felt familiar and comfortable, and I soon got used to the little differences from the skoots I’d ridden before. Raff fitted me with a helmet and I took the skoot for a spin around the block, steady and careful as always. Mum always said I was a natural rider, and with what lay ahead, I would need to be.
Feela put up the usual struggle against going into her box, but resigned herself pretty quickly to her fate, being dog tired after her wild night. Kris, on the other hand, did not intend to go so quietly onto the back seat.
“It’s just going to look stupid!” he protested.
“Kris,” said Amelie, “no one’s going to know who you are, so what are you worried about?”
“I went on the back all the time,” added Raff. “It was great.”
“Yeah,” said Amelie, “till you added the speed limiter.”
“The override’s just under the ignition, see?” said Raff.
“You never told me that!” said Amelie, and they launched into a mock fight, which broke the tension for a while—long enough for Kris to quietly slip into place and adopt as cool a pose as possible. Needless to say, he sat back and took hold of the handrails—he wasn’t going to put his arms around me.
We checked the map and worked out the best route, avoiding all the main roads and the cameras. Amelie reckoned we could make Bluehaven within the day, even at the skoot’s limited speed. My heart leaped at the thought, but after all that had happened, I wasn’t taking anything for granted.
“Good luck, Jade,” said Amelie. “We’re all counting on you.”
“Don’t say that,” I replied.
I tried to make the farewells as quick as possible. It was easier that way. But Raff, bless him, was such a touchyfeely person he just had to hug me and wish me the best. I think he might have tried to hug Kris as well if Kris hadn’t deliberately looked the other way.
So there we were, back on the road, back to the world of endless uncertainty. But we weren’t going far. After Kris had flapped his arm once or twice to indicate which way we should be going, I pulled into a side lane, took off my helmet, and motioned him to do the same.
“Listen, Kris,” I said. “I’m under enough stress without you criticizing my driving. Either back off or get off.”
“You’re weaving about all over the place,” said Kris.
“That’s ’cause you’re unbalancing me!” I cried.
“I’m too heavy to be on the back,” said Kris.
I took a deep breath. “Listen,” I said. “I don’t have to go with you.”
“You could
have said that back at Amelie’s,” said Kris.
“I didn’t want to have a row in front of them,” I replied.
“Still think I’m working for the state?” sneered Kris.
I looked him in the eye. “Funny how they raided that secretary,” I said.
Kris was unfazed. “If I’d given them a tip-off,” he said, “they’d have raided Amelie’s.”
“Amelie didn’t have the database,” I replied.
“She had Feela,” said Kris.
“Yeah,” I said, “but they wouldn’t get any more information once they’d got Feela, would they?”
Kris paused, weighing me up. “You should write books,” he commented.
I said nothing. We stared at each other, not sure what to do next. Kris raised his eyebrows and smiled with one corner of his mouth. I briefly replayed Kris kissing that Fay, then pulled my helmet back on and restarted the skoot. We continued without another word, and Kris made no more hand signals.
Chapter Twenty-One
We made good progress down those back lanes. No cameras, not a lot of traffic, good weather, and no problems with the skoot. I was starting to feel confident, in control of my own destiny, a daughter Mum could be proud of. If it were possible, I’d have just kept riding, nonstop, all the way to Bluehaven. But we had to eat, check on Feela, and answer the calls of nature. Kris in particular needed to answer those calls. He’d drunk about a liter of orange juice before we left and his bladder was in danger of exploding.
Eventually we came across a picnic site which looked as if it could meet our needs. It was one of those sites which were off the road, down a lane—the kind of place which was often deserted. Often the automatic food-points were vandalized, and there was always the fear a gang of muggers might be waiting there. Somehow, though, I just didn’t worry about those kind of things anymore.
It looked like we’d chosen the perfect place to stop. At the end of the lane was a wooded clearing without a soul in sight. The foodpoint had been demolished, but there were still a few picnic tables on the grass in front of a shallow artificial lake. Bushes and small trees were scattered around the area—apart from that, nothing but butterflies and dragonflies.
Kris pulled off his helmet and disappeared into the trees at the far side of the clearing. My first thought, however, was for Feela. As I opened her box, the poor thing refused to move a muscle. Despite the fact that she always struggled against going into her little jail, once she was used to it, she felt safer in than out. With some encouragement she did venture a quick glance over the top, but one crow’s caw sent her cowering back down.
“Wish I could explain to you, Feela,” I said, but all I could actually do was try to put an end to this journey as quickly as possible.
I closed Feela’s lid, just to be on the safe side, and looked around for a suitable ladies’ convenience. There was a row of thorn bushes, just head high, back to the left of the lane where we’d come in. I sauntered over to check it out, but as I did so, became aware of something black and metallic glinting behind it. At first I thought it might be some kind of litter skip—but the way it shone suggested it was too new for that.
I rounded the bushes and, to my horror, saw a giant motorbike. It was fitted with every gadget and gizmo you could imagine, and along the fuel tank was emblazoned the word COMPROT.
“Nice machine, eh?”
The voice seemed to come from nowhere. My heart leaped into my mouth as I turned to see a fully uniformed comper—black boots, black gauntlets, stunstem, billy club, spray, and gun. Fortunately, however, none of the weapons were in his hand, and on his face was a smile.
“Like it?” he asked.
“Very nice,” I replied.
“Go on, hop on,” he said. “I know you’re dying to.”
Was he playing a game with me? He didn’t seem to be.
“I’ll just look at it, thanks,” I replied.
The comper gazed over at the skoot. “That your vehicle?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered nervously.
“You look a bit young to be riding a skoot,” he observed.
“I’m sixteen,” I replied.
“I believe you,” he said with a wink. “Thousands wouldn’t.”
“How fast does your bike go?” I asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Two hundred, tops,” he replied. “I take it easy, mind you. Never go over one-ninety.”
I smiled weakly.
“Joke!” he exclaimed.
I smiled a little harder.
“Go on, get your leg over it!” he coaxed.
I decided it was easier to comply. It kept his attention off the skoot. With any luck he would soon get fed up with trying to impress me and go away.
“What d’you reckon?” he asked.
I didn’t want to admit it, but after the old skoot, the Comprot bike felt fantastic. It was as if all the power of the state was concentrated into one supreme machine. How reassuring, I thought—provided you were on their side.
“Brilliant,” I replied. “Thanks.”
I began to dismount, and just as I did so, caught a glimpse of Kris emerging from the trees at the far side.
There was no way I could signal him to go back. He couldn’t see me through the thorn bushes, and in any case, the comper would notice. I asked some stupid question about the brakes, just to keep the comper’s attention away from Kris, but Kris, unfortunately, had seen him. Without thinking twice he headed towards us, planning to do what, I don’t know. At any rate, the comper heard him coming.
“Oh,” he said. “Didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
Kris stopped, and tried to look vaguely threatening. At this point, the comper’s manner changed. You could almost see the penny drop as he looked from one to the other of us.
“Let’s take a look at this skoot, shall we?” he said, his voice no longer friendly.
The comper marched across the grass, casting a hostile look at Kris as he passed him. I hurried after him, hoping somehow to keep him away from the pannier, but Kris had other plans. He whipped the stun-stem from his inside pocket and ran full-tilt at the comper’s back.
That comper must have had second sight. Before Kris could offer a single jab, he had whirled around, snatched the billy club from his belt, and smashed the stun-stem out of Kris’s hand. Next second he was raining blows down on Kris, full force, dashing him to the ground then pummeling his defenseless body without mercy.
“Stop it!” I cried. “You’ll kill him!”
The comper was deaf to my pleas. “Attack me, would you, punk?” he sneered, laying in now with his boots, which landed with sickening dull thuds on Kris’s midriff.
I couldn’t just stand there. Kris’s stun-stem was still lying there on the ground, and almost before I knew it, it was in my hand. Within a few seconds I had switched it on and stabbed it into the comper’s side. As he crashed to the ground I stabbed at him again and again till his spasms had stopped and he lay completely motionless.
“That’s for Mum!” I cried. I felt a sob rising, but held it back.
Kris uncurled and raised himself painfully. “Good going, Ms. Pacifist,” he grunted.
“I had to do something,” I replied. My whole body was trembling now. I let the stun-stem drop from my hands.
Kris viewed the comper. “How many times did you use that thing?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Lots.”
“Jade, you’re only supposed to use it once!” said Kris. He struggled to his feet, with a look of alarm on his face. “Scheisse,” he said. “I think you’ve killed him.”
“No I haven’t!” I exclaimed.
Kris placed his finger against the comper’s neck. “I can’t feel a pulse,” he said.
“Don’t be stupid!” I cried. I got down myself and felt the hot, clammy neck, until at last I detected the faintest tremor. “There is a pulse!” I cried.
“I couldn’t feel it,” said Kris.
“You w
ere pressing too hard,” I replied. “He’s alive.”
Kris pondered for a moment. “Maybe it would be better if he was dead,” he said.
“No, Kris,” I replied.
Kris picked up the stun-stem and held it close to the comper’s ear.
“No, Kris!” I yelled.
“Still think I’m working for Comprot?” asked Kris.
“No, I don’t!” I cried. “Now leave him!”
Kris stayed motionless, stun-stem just centimeters from striking what would surely be a fatal blow.
“Don’t play games with me!” I cried.
There was a pause, then Kris pocketed the stun-stem.
“With any luck he’s brain-dead anyway,” he said.
Kris helped himself to everything he could find on the comper’s belt, then pulled the radio from the comper’s pocket and smashed it to the ground. To complete matters he hobbled over to the bike, smashed the mirrors, and let down both tires.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get going.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I felt no guilt about what happened to that comper. My mind was totally focused on survival, and that meant counting down the signposts to Bluehaven, avoiding accidents, and most of all ensuring we didn’t get caught. Despite the shock and the adrenaline I felt amazingly calm, almost robotic, my decisions clear and deliberate, my steering accurate, my control complete. Kris, like Feela, had accepted his fate as passenger now, and I was hardly aware he was there behind me. As soon as I stopped, however, I turned to see him as alive as ever.
“What have you stopped for?” he asked.
“Got to check on Feela,” I replied.
“Why?” said Kris. “We stopped less than an hour ago.”
“She’s been in that box all day,” I replied. “She hasn’t eaten and she hasn’t been to the toilet.”
“If we keep going, we’ll be there in two hours,” said Kris impatiently.
I ignored him, climbed off, and began opening the box. Kris looked around anxiously. We were in a wayside beside some fields of sweetcorn with no houses or people in sight, but there was always the danger of a stray speed camera, even here—except I’d already checked that out.
Feela looked up at me and gave a low cry. I knew that cry well.
