by D. J. McCune
There was only one soul visible, perhaps fifty metres away – the soul of the bomber himself. He was standing wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as if he couldn’t believe he had actually pushed the button. He stared around the Hinterland, eyes widening even further as he watched Adam walking towards him. ‘It’s you!’ He stared at the scene around him, expression somewhere between revulsion, guilt and satisfaction.
Adam’s jaw was clenching painfully, in time with his fists. He wanted to grab the bomber by the throat, punch him in the face and kick him somewhere painful, preferably all at the same time. He knew he should stop and get himself under control but he couldn’t. His anger was so great that his body felt too small to contain it. For the first time he understood his father’s maddening composure – how he always managed to hide his emotions. After all, it was usually Nathanial who dealt with these kinds of jobs. He’d had a lifetime to practise keeping his feelings to himself.
The bomber was staring at him. ‘Are we really dead? Like, properly dead?’
Adam glared at him. ‘You are.’
The bomber’s face fell. ‘So … this is heaven?’
Adam snorted. He waved a hand at the injured lying on the ground behind him. Some of them were crying now or moaning softly. ‘Does this look like heaven to you?’ The bomber chewed his lip and Adam laughed. It sounded odd and brittle. ‘What, not living up to your expectations?’ He shook his head, caught somewhere between fury and sorrow. ‘Why did you do this?’
For the first time some of the bomber’s defiance returned. ‘I did it for God, the Lord and Creator of this world! We’ve been abusing God’s creation – we deserve to be punished! And now God is going to reward me!’
‘Really?’ Adam almost snarled. When the bomber nodded Adam took a step closer, until their faces were only inches apart. ‘Thing is, if some Creator made the world and all these people, don’t you think it’s going to be pretty pissed off that you just tried to blow it all up?’ He waved his arm around the scene. ‘These people are tourists! There’s a little baby over there! What the hell is the matter with you?’
The bomber’s face grew shuttered. ‘It doesn’t matter what you say. I’m going to heaven now. You won’t be going there.’
Adam stared at him and all his rage suddenly drained away. ‘I don’t know where you’re going, mate. I’m just glad I don’t have to go there with you.’
‘You’re going to hell!’ the bomber hissed but his face was a little frightened now. ‘I’m going to heaven and you’re going to hell.’
Adam pointed at the injured. ‘That’s hell. Those people are already there, thanks to you.’ He looked at the people helping them and some of the tightness around his heart lifted. ‘But maybe that’s heaven. Your head is all messed up. You don’t understand anything.’
The bomber set his lips but they were trembling a little. ‘I want to go to heaven now.’ He looked like he might cry.
Adam blinked and shrugged. The anger was back but now it was a cold, bright, hard thing in his chest. He didn’t know what lay in store for this guy but the time for talking was over. He took a deep breath and tried to push air past the cold, bright thing inside him. ‘You have to go on a journey now. Do you see a Light?’
As his voice lilted the bomber’s face relaxed. ‘I see it,’ he whispered. ‘There it is!’
Adam was trying very hard to concentrate. In the physical world he could see the first ambulance arrive, rattling and bumping as close to the carnage as possible. He needed to remember the steps, the sequence, but the bright, hard thing was getting bigger; a great cold ball. He couldn’t see, couldn’t think. A woman screamed as someone tried to help her onto a stretcher and her scream echoed and echoed.
He took a deep breath, his mind empty, putting one hand on the bomber’s shoulder. ‘Just step into your Light,’ he heard himself say but no more words would come out. The young man had already forgotten him, was already moving. He didn’t even hear Adam’s last words. ‘You’re going on a journey now and I’m not giving you directions. It’s going to take you a long time – but you’ll need it. Think up some excuses. You’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.’
And before the soul had even disappeared, Adam was already walking away.
Adam emerged from the Hinterland just beyond the square, conscious that his father could appear at any moment. Back in the physical world there was nothing to muffle the screech of sirens. They were a long-drawn-out wail of pain and fear echoing around the old buildings. It was still bright and sunny, the morning chill long gone, far too nice for this time of year. Far too nice for tragedy.
His chest felt hollow and he moved like an automaton, one foot in front of the other. He was in so much trouble he couldn’t even imagine it. No Luman could work alone before they came of age. Nathanial wouldn’t know that there were supposed to be lots of other souls there but he would know that somebody had died. Any second now he was going to follow his death sense to the scene – only to find the bomber’s soul gone. At first he might assume it was Aron, trying to prove something – or maybe even Luc. But when they protested their innocence eventually his thoughts would turn to Adam.
Of course he wouldn’t believe it at first. Adam smiled wryly. Who would have thought that he would be volunteering to send souls on, all on his own? No puking on his trainers today. But when Nathanial realised what he had done … Adam sighed. Better make the most of the sunshine. He wasn’t going to be seeing the light of day for a long time.
The bright sharpness of his anger had faded completely now, leaving only tiredness. He passed a quiet memorial park, set incongruously at the intersection between several busy streets. No one was there. People were already getting news about the bomb and cutting their shopping trips short, knowing the chaos to come.
There was an old stone bench in the centre of the park, speckled with bird droppings and overshadowed by naked trees. Adam sat down on the cleanest spot and closed his eyes, trying to make his mind go quiet. There were fewer sirens now; the ambulance crews would have raced off to hospitals. Police would be sealing off the scene, searching for clues, not knowing how much worse things could have been.
He thought about the woman with the red scarf. She had set out that morning, looking forward to a nice day with her family. Now she would always remember it as the day the bomb went off. But what will she do? Adam wondered. Will she sit in her house, too scared to go out? Or will she go out into the world and keep doing what she likes to do? The thing about hiding was – death always found you in the end. It could claim you at home just as easily as it could on the streets – but that was OK. It was what you did before you died that was important. You had to make it count.
There was a war memorial in front of Adam, a simple pillar of polished granite. Adam expected the usual verses about not growing old, not being forgotten – but instead there were only two words. Carpe diem – seize the day. The day ahead was all that you knew you had. His thoughts wandered. If the Fates were to cut his thread that night, what would he regret? What would he wish he’d done differently? What would he wish he’d done full stop?
He stood up, filled with a sudden sense of purpose. He knew what he had to do.
It took a long time to walk to Flip Street. By the time Adam reached Alter-Eden it was late afternoon. It was a riot of colours inside, mad assortments of clothing festooning the walls and crammed onto rails. Behind the counter he spoke to a girl with blue hair and feathers stuck over her eyelashes. She deigned to let him slip round the counter and along the narrow corridor behind, out into the yard.
The fire exit was propped open. The corridor led him out into a weedy yard, carpeted with fag butts and empty diet cola cans. At the far end was a rickety bench, squeezed in between the wall and a huge blue recycling bin. Melissa was sitting there with her head tipped back, eyes closed. One impossible sunbeam had slipped between the tall buildings all around, bathing her face in light. Adam stared, transfixed. She looked tired and unhappy and beau
tiful, like a sad angel.
He might have stood there forever but she sighed and twisted the cap off her water bottle. As she raised it to drink her eyes opened and locked on his. She became very still. ‘What are you doing here?’ She didn’t sound angry, just indifferent. Somehow that was worse.
Adam shrugged. ‘I just came to say hello.’
Melissa gave him a blank stare. ‘Oh right.’ She turned her face back to the sun and closed her eyes.
He shifted, a little uncertainly – then remembered the courage that had brought him here. Seize the day. He’d already made a mess of things so he might as well finish the job. He walked over and sat beside her.
She made an irritated noise. ‘What do you want, Adam?’
‘I wanted to see you.’
‘Why?’
Adam took a deep breath. ‘Because I like you. I mean, I really, really like you.’
Melissa laughed. ‘Yeah, of course you do. That’s why you were so nice to me in biology the other day.’
Adam hung his head, wishing he could explain. ‘I’m really sorry. I just … Look, I don’t have any kind of good excuse. But I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah, you told me. Is that it?’
Adam nodded, feeling miserable. He wished she would look at him but for once her eyes were burning holes in the ground, rather than him. She pulled out a pot of something and rubbed it on her lips, studiously ignoring him. All his words seemed to have disappeared. ‘There was a big bomb earlier,’ he heard himself say.
At least now Melissa was looking at him, eyes wide. ‘Where? You mean near here?’
Adam nodded. ‘I guess you didn’t hear about it. I was there when it went off, right nearby. There was a gig on.’ He paused, trying to find the right words. ‘It made me think. You know, how funny life is. You don’t know what’s going to happen. I guess I just wanted to see you.’
She was staring at the ground again, a faint flush of colour in her pale cheeks. Adam waited for her to say something – anything – but she stayed quiet. He sighed and stood up. He’d done what he came here to do – the rest was up to her. ‘I’m sorry I messed everything up. Maybe we can talk some time back in school.’
Time to go, before he made even more of a fool of himself. He was almost back at the fire door when she spoke. ‘Adam.’ When he turned round she was on her feet, the sunlight still playing over her face, softening it. ‘What you said the other day. My mum’s going to the hospital for her tests.’ She looked like she wanted to say a lot more but couldn’t find the right words.
Adam felt cornered. He couldn’t afford questions. He tried to smile. ‘That’s good. I’m sure she’ll be fine but you know – better to get things checked.’
Melissa shrugged. ‘Yeah, I guess. And … we’ll talk. Maybe next weekend?’
There wasn’t going to be a next weekend because he was going to be under house arrest until he was at least seventy. Maybe that was why he did it. He strode across the yard, put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her. Her mouth was soft and damp and surprised. She tasted like cold water and warm strawberries.
He pulled away after a few seconds, bracing himself for outrage or a right hook, but she only blinked and touched her bottom lip uncertainly. Adam swallowed hard. ‘Sorry. You just looked really nice and … I wanted to do that for ages. That night at Petrograd, and then at Cryptique before I … well, you know what I did.’ He tried to smile. ‘And I’d really like to go out but I’m kind of grounded forever so … maybe we can hang out at school. After the holidays?’
She looked bemused. ‘Yeah … I guess.’
‘OK.’ How did he sound so casual? He’d kissed her! He’d seized the day! He was a rock star!
‘Adam.’ When he turned Melissa suddenly looked more like her old self. There was a glint of wickedness in her eye. ‘That was pretty good. At least a six out of ten. You just need to practise.’
Adam grinned. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ And as he walked back inside, the corridor didn’t seem dark at all – because in spite of everything the world was still a shiny, happy place.
It took Adam a long time to get home. The whole city knew about the bomb now although the casualties were still unclear. Adam could have reassured the authorities on that score but it just wasn’t possible. Buses and Underground services were disrupted but people were doing their best to go on as normal. Saturday shoppers and tourists alike were holding up street plans and trying to navigate home on foot.
Adam wasn’t in any rush. He could have swooped – what was one more broken law at this stage – but he made the most of his freedom, walking for over an hour. It was almost dark as he finally approached the high gates around the house. The trees stood out black against the dusk. One of the dogs barked, perhaps in welcome.
He wasn’t sure what waited for him inside. Would they have figured out what he had done yet? Maybe. He didn’t regret it though. There was no reason why Darian or anyone else would know that he had saved so many lives. As far as other people were concerned it was just good luck that the bomber hadn’t killed anyone else. Only he knew the truth.
Adam looked up at the house and sighed. Love it or hate it, this was his home – his world. The thing was, standing here on the street outside was his world too. Life was funny like that. It was all about the choices you made and the things you valued. Good things happened and bad things happened. Some people were nice and some people weren’t. Some people were really nice. He thought about kissing Melissa and it made him feel warm inside.
He touched his palm to the electronic pad and watched the gate swing open. He tried to imagine his family, pretending that this was just any other Saturday with a few quiet hours between call-outs. His mother would be making the dinner. Nathanial would be in his study and Auntie Jo would be crunching through her endless pile of toast and watching a horror film. Luc and Chloe would be bickering good-naturedly beside her while Aron pumped iron up in his bedroom.
They would all be doing what they enjoyed. That was the thing about being alive – it was brilliant! Everybody deserved the chance to live on their own terms, for as long as they could. If he could help people do that for longer, then that would be his mission. Whether he did it as a doctor or a rogue Luman … only time would tell. Either way, he’d found what he had to do; how to live before he died.
As the gates closed behind him Adam grinned. One thing was for sure. Life was always surprising.
Epilogue
Paris was always at its most beautiful by night. Even with snow on the ground the crowds were out on the streets, bundled up in stylish coats and scarves. Restaurant windows gleamed like jewels, revealing magical worlds behind, where people talked, ate, kissed and poured wine. The aromas of steak, garlic and bitter chocolate were overwhelming.
Darian ignored the crowd as he hurried towards a less salubrious district. Of course no one would dare to question him now – just one of the many perks of finally being safely on the Concilium. He allowed himself a brief smile of triumph. Still, old habits died hard. It was always better to be cautious – at least until the moment came to strike.
He slipped into an alleyway and satisfied himself that he was truly alone. Only then did he pull the object out of his pocket. It looked insignificant, as indeed it was in all respects but one. This tiny, black, pearl button was his ticket into another realm – a realm where even a Curator could not enter without the proper key.
Without even pausing for breath he shifted his focus and stepped forward into the Hinterland. The physical world around him faded and he found himself in the empty borderland. No one had died so no Light nor frightened soul was waiting for him. He was looking at a paler version of the physical world, the colours more muted in the night.
He began to walk, straight through buildings and cars, crossing roads and rivers. He clutched the button between his finger and thumb and as he focused his mind on it alone, Paris began to disappear. Everything is energy, he reminded himself. Even a Luman’s mind clung to
order and the familiar. It took something special to help him see the Hinterland as it truly was – a vast and endless twilight.
He swallowed hard, angry that even now after all this time the place could still make him fearful. Not much further. He could feel the heat growing in the tiny pearl; see a faint light begin to glow between his fingers. The doorway would appear soon. All he had to do was keep walking, keep concentrating …
And there it was, quite without warning, a street’s length away. As he approached, the door opened and a woman’s silhouette appeared. Darian smiled, a small, secret smile. It wouldn’t do to be too bold with this woman. Like him, she was a newcomer, proud of her position, still tetchy and quick to take offence. Darian understood that. Power freshly won had to be maintained. It was like wearing in a new pair of shoes. Soon, they would both be more comfortable with their new status – and they would walk more confidently in their world.
For now, he would tread carefully. She was clever – but not as clever as him. He was going to tell her a story, weaving a web of truths and half-truths. Soon the wrath of the Concilium and the Fates would fall on Nathanial Mortson and his family. Perhaps then he could pluck through the wreckage of the Mortsons’ lives and salvage the one thing he held dear.
For now though he had business to attend to. He pushed Elise from his mind – it was too soon to think about the prize. Instead he gave his most charming smile to the woman in the doorway, burying his hatred and mistrust deep inside him.
‘My dear Morta, how lovely to see you. If only all the Fates were blessed with such beauty. And if only I brought you better tidings …’
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