Perfect

by Cecelia Ahern

  “How did you get away?” he asks.

  I quickly tell him, Lennox, Fergus, and Lorcan about what happened with Bahee. Apart from Leonard and Carrick, they’re surprised to hear this, perhaps even doubtful. And they have a point: Bahee locking me out may have been just to save his own skin; we don’t know for sure that he alerted the Whistleblowers. And if he didn’t, there is still a traitor among us. I wonder again about Rogan, who is the only person not present. Or Mona, who may have lied to me about why Lizzie left.

  I duck down, staying tight to Carrick as a Whistleblower starts to drag away a kicking and screaming Evelyn. Cordelia is howling with grief as they take her child away and is being held back by two Whistleblowers.

  “Oh my God,” I whimper, hands in front of my face. I don’t want to watch but I have to.

  “This was not the deal!” Bahee shouts, and everyone, on the ground and in hiding, turns to stare at him in utter shock.

  “It was him,” I whisper, shocked, even though I suspected him.

  “You arranged this, Bahee?” Mona shouts.

  The dozen Whistleblowers clear the way for their leader, a woman, I think, who walks toward Bahee. He quickly backs off, the fight in him gone. The Whistleblower removes her helmet, and to my absolute shock I see it’s Mary May.

  I gasp and Carrick blocks my mouth.

  “The deal was,” says Mary May, “we leave you all here and we take Celestine. There’s no sign of Celestine and no one mentioned anything about an F.A.B. child on the premises. We must remove her immediately. We must give her the care and treatment she needs, though it may be too late already.” She looks at Evelyn with disgust.

  I feel Carrick tense beside me. He knows all about that special-institution care.

  “What have you done?” Cordelia screeches at Bahee, who cowers away from her, looking so weak that a light breeze could blow him over.

  “You’re lucky I’m not removing you all. Take her away,” Mary May says, waving her hand.

  I’ve never seen Mary May in combat uniform. Usually she’s in her Mary Poppins Whistleblower persona, the one who does house calls, who checks to make sure I’ve made my curfews and stuck to my diet and followed all of the daily anti-Flawed decrees. Even the Mary May who came looking for me on Granddad’s farm wasn’t this woman; it tells me that she’s stepped it up a level. It’s as though she has mentally walked onto the battlefield. Riot gear, helmet and all, she will do anything to find me. What chance have I got?

  Evelyn puts up a good fight. She kicks a Whistleblower between the legs, and he curses loudly, hunches over, and loses his helmet. My heart stops. I feel Carrick’s grip on me tighten and his hand blocks my mouth for the second time, because he knows that I want to shout out.

  The Whistleblower is Art.

  TWENTY-SIX

  ART’S UNRULY BLOND hair collapses in curls around his face as he holds on tight to Evelyn’s arm, his face an angry mush of pain and irritation.

  Cordelia howls for her child.

  Some of the other Whistleblowers seem to look at Art and Evelyn in amusement, though they are all human and I hope, behind those helmets, some are finding it heart-wrenching.

  “Look, can’t we just take them both together?” Art asks, and his voice breaks my heart. “The mother and the child?”

  “Yes! Yes!” Cordelia leaps up from her knees, eager to be taken away, ready to be taken to the ends of the earth if it means staying with her child.

  I’d longed to hear his voice for so long and now it’s here, under these circumstances. He looks strange in the uniform. Like a young boy dressing up as a soldier; no wonder the helmet fell off, even with the huge mop of hair I don’t think it fits him. He’s the same age as Carrick but he’s no soldier, he’s baby-faced, never serious about anything. The only time he ever truly concentrated was when he played his guitar, and even then he made up ridiculous songs, his favorite being about the polka-dot zebra. The elephant with no trunk, the tiger that got a manicure, the giraffe that couldn’t find a turtleneck to fit, the broccoli that wouldn’t eat its vegetables. That kind of thing.

  This situation isn’t suited to Art, this is too real-life for him. No awkward jokes can get him out of this. He’s ripping a child from her mother. He’s been in that position: He lost his mother. He can’t do it. He won’t do it.

  “Take me instead,” a voice suddenly booms from the opposite side of the gate. Rogan appears. He was out; he was free. What is he doing?

  The Whistleblowers turn to stare at him.

  “I’m an F.A.B. child, too,” he says, voice cracking with fear, but he’s trying to appear strong.

  “Rogan! No!” Carrick’s mother screeches.

  “What the hell is he doing?” Carrick says, moving from his position, and it’s my turn to pull him down. It takes Lennox to hold him down as well.

  “Leave Evelyn here. Take me,” Rogan says, pleading with them all. “I’m fourteen years old. My parents are Flawed. I’ve been living outside the system all my life. Take me!”

  Mary May barely glances at him. She gives a signal and the Whistleblowers all move out, ignoring Rogan as they pass him by, some bumping against his shoulders, knocking him about, teasing him as they pass.

  “Take me!” he shrieks now in a high-pitched, desperate voice, arms out in surrender.

  They move by him and load themselves into the vans.

  “Am I not good enough for you?” he yells. “My brother was good enough, but I’m not?”

  I look at Carrick, who is shaking his head angrily, eyes black as coal.

  Kelly runs to her youngest son and wraps her arms around him, both of them barely able to stand with the tears. Rogan is exhausted from the shouting.

  Evelyn is taken into the van, her screams still audible from outside. Cordelia sobs uncontrollably, back on her knees on the ground. It reminds me of when my neighbor Angelina was torn away from her family in front of my very eyes. The sound of children screaming for their mother, the anguished sound of a mother’s heart being ripped apart. Angelina’s detainment had been the first moment with Whistleblowers that I’d witnessed. I’m going to make sure this is my last.

  The red vans drive away, taking Evelyn with them.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “WHAT THE HELL did you do?” Back in the recreation room, Carrick pushes Bahee up against the wall. We’ve gathered here, wild and angry with one another, nobody trusting anybody, to try to make some sense of this. Bahee yelps as his tiny frame is crushed.

  “Please.” Bahee holds up his hands in self-defense as Lennox, Fergus, Lorcan, and Mona gather around him, like scavengers eyeing their dinner. I hover in the background, too stunned to say or do anything. I’m feeling so guilty to have brought this upon everyone, even if it was Bahee who pulled the trigger. He would never have done it if I wasn’t here.

  “I can’t breathe … I can’t…” he squeals.

  “Carrick,” his dad says, warning.

  Carrick loosens his grip around Bahee’s neck and the blood drains from Bahee’s face as he fights to catch his breath.

  “I didn’t know it would work out this way; this wasn’t the arrangement,” he says nervously, and Cordelia cries to herself, hugging Evelyn’s pink bunny rabbit close to her body. “You know I adore Evelyn. I would never have arranged for this to happen. Please believe that I did it for the right reasons.” He hardens. “She shouldn’t be here.” He points a finger at me, and they look at me. “I know you all agree. Nobody wanted to say it, but I will. She shouldn’t be here. We’ve been safe for years, and she was about to ruin everything.”

  “No, you ruined everything,” Carrick says, through gritted teeth, giving Bahee one last hard shove against the wall before releasing his grip and charging away.

  “They would have found her eventually,” Bahee says, trying to get everyone on his side, growing in confidence as he’s given the chance to defend himself. “Of course they would have. Celestine has the most recognizable face in the country, someone
would have seen her and told the Guild. I just did it in a way that protected this family forever.”

  “Family,” Mona spits out. “You’re living in cuckoo land.”

  “You should have consulted us on a decision like that,” Adam says, and I’m surprised that Carrick’s dad isn’t immediately defending my presence. “And I’m afraid, son”—he turns to Carrick—“that you should have consulted us in bringing Celestine here.”

  Carrick is stunned, then very quickly becomes angry. “Consulted you?” He steps forward, fists clenched.

  “Son,” Adam warns, looking at Carrick’s fists.

  “He’s not your son,” Rogan says quietly, back in his darkened corner, sitting on the bean bag.

  Carrick turns to him. “Say that again and you’ll be sorry.”

  “You’re. Not. His. Son,” Rogan says, slower and louder. He stands up. “I’m his son. You showed up, what, two weeks ago? I’ve been by their side all my life. Do you know what I sacrificed to be his son? School, friends, a normal life. I’ve had a lifetime of hiding underground. Moving every few weeks, months if we were lucky. While you got to live like a king. I’ve seen those institutions on TV: swimming pools, restaurants, holidays, skiing. What did you have to give up?” he shouts.

  Kelly lets out a pained sound and covers her ears as her sons argue.

  “What did I give up?” Carrick asks, as if Rogan’s stupid. “My parents,” he yells so loudly that even Cordelia stops crying and looks up. “People who loved me. I was five years old, alone and afraid. You think that was fun for me? I waited for my mom and dad to come get me, and they never did. I was told every day that my parents were monsters. You think I was treated like a king? I had no one. I didn’t trust anyone. Every day I was fed so many lies I didn’t know who to believe. So forgive me if I have no sympathy for you. I gave up my freedom to find you all, and I get here to discover that my parents already have a son. That the whole time I thought they were missing me, they’d already started again. That’s what I sacrificed.” He turns to his dad. “And for that, I expected some trust, for you to believe that I was bringing someone important here.” The veins in Carrick’s neck pulsate, his fists tightly clenched. Everyone gives him space, like he’s a monster about to explode.

  “I understand your feelings for Celestine,” his dad says quietly, patiently, as if everyone has forgotten that I’m still in the room.

  “Forget about my feelings. This is not about me having some crush. You’ve no idea the power Celestine holds over Crevan, the importance she has in the Flawed movement.”

  I see a few eyeball rolls at his mention of the movement.

  “Oh yes, this power.” Bahee actually laughs. “You talk about this power a lot, but I don’t see it. She doesn’t even want to leave this compound, she said so herself.”

  All eyes on me. I shift my feet nervously.

  “That was before,” I say.

  “Before what?” Bahee sneers. “Before the sweet nothings he was whispering in your ear this morning? Celestine, don’t let people push you out front and hide behind you for their beliefs.”

  It was him outside Carrick’s door listening to us. He heard me admit I didn’t want to leave; he heard Carrick trying to convince me to join him. I’m not sure what Bahee is more afraid of: me staying, or me leaving.

  “This is ridiculous,” Carrick says, fed up. “Talking to you is a waste of time. We have to get moving. We have things to do, whether you lot are with us or not. Whether Celestine has power over Crevan or not, it doesn’t matter, people are behind her, and the numbers are growing. It’s not just Flawed people. To everyone she is a symbol. Compassion and logic, that’s the Vital Party’s new campaign slogan. A political party quoting a Flawed, when has that ever happened?”

  “Oh, please,” Bahee says dismissively. “That’s a gamble Enya Sleepwell will lose. She is offering false hope to the Flawed. When has anybody ever done anything to help us? Remember Lizzie! She told her boyfriend she was Flawed and he left her! Right here in our own community. And she was so in love!” He laughs mockingly. “You’re all delusional if you think you have the slightest support out there.”

  “Lizzie didn’t tell Leonard she was Flawed,” I speak up on Leonard’s behalf. For his own safety he couldn’t come with us to the east wing. “Leonard knew that Lizzie was Flawed, and he didn’t care.”

  Everyone turns to me. Even Rogan, who looks at me in surprise.

  “How do you know that?” Mona asks, confused.

  “Exactly. You’ve been here twenty-four hours, Celestine, what do you know?” Bahee says dismissively.

  “Celestine’s right,” Rogan says quietly.

  We all turn to him.

  “What do you mean?” Adam asks.

  “It’s not true that Lizzie left because of Leonard,” Rogan says, his voice trembling. He won’t look up, like he’s afraid.

  “I wouldn’t listen to anything that comes out of his mouth,” Bahee says.

  “Shut up,” Carrick snaps, and then says more gently: “Rogan, tell us what you know.”

  He briefly looks at Bahee and then away, eyes back down to the ground. He closes up again.

  Mona goes to him. “You can tell us the truth. Don’t worry about Bahee.”

  “I saw him taking her.”

  “Who? You saw who?”

  “Bahee,” he says, tears filling his eyes. “He made Lizzie get in the Jeep. She didn’t want to. She was crying. I heard him telling her that he wasn’t going to let her ruin our life here. She was going to tell Leonard that she was Flawed. She was on her way. Bahee wouldn’t let her. He took her away. I saw them.”

  Everyone looks at Bahee.

  “Only moments ago, his own brother thought he was a traitor, so I wouldn’t pay much heed to what he says. He’s young. Confused. I haven’t left this compound for years, everyone knows that.”

  Carrick fires himself at Bahee and lashes out, punching him in the jaw.

  Bahee screams in pain. “You’ve broken it,” he groans, rolling around. Nobody goes to his aid.

  “Where did you take Lizzie?” Mona stands over him.

  Bahee whines about needing a doctor. Mona ignores him.

  “Where did you take Lizzie?” she screams, and he finally looks at her coldly.

  “Not far. Into the city. I told her to get out, to find somewhere else to live.” He says it so devoid of emotion, so unlike the man who called the meeting to welcome Lennox to the tribe, as though he has two personalities, one so warm and the other so cold. The perfect and flawed man all in one, like two sides of a coin. “But I did it to protect you all. None of you have any idea what I’ve done to protect you in the past. We’ve all lived here happily and safely, until Celestine came along. You were happy for me to lead you, but if you want to follow her, then you’re digging your own grave.”

  There’s a long silence.

  “I met Celestine only yesterday,” Mona speaks out. “I haven’t seen any sign of her leadership or of this ‘power’ that Carrick speaks about, yet. But has nobody else questioned who else has had twelve Whistleblowers search for them at a high-security government-funded laboratory? She’s got something on the Guild.” She views me curiously. “And whatever that is, I’m in.”

  “Still in,” Lorcan says.

  “Me too,” Fergus says.

  “I was never out.” Lennox grins.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  THE DOOR BURSTS open and Eddie enters.

  “Glad to see you’re still alive, boss,” Lennox jokes, lightening the atmosphere.

  “I’m not your boss anymore,” he says, red-faced and looking like he’s about to keel over with a heart attack at any moment.

  “They let you go?” Bahee asks, holding his jaw.

  “No,” Eddie barks, looking the sorry sight up and down. “They’re letting you all go. The owner of this company let evaders work here in good faith, under the agreement you would keep it secret. You broke that agreement.”

  “B
ut he can’t do this,” Bahee says, his face going even paler. “I’ve kept his identity a secret; I’ve kept my word. He promised me safety.”

  “You break your promise; he breaks his. He wants you out by noon. It’s not safe anymore. You’ve placed him and his plant under too much suspicion. How’s he going to explain all this?”

  “But where will we go?” Bahee asks, his whole life crumbling.

  “I don’t know and I don’t want to know. Less I know the better. You will all have escaped my security by noon today. And by that I mean we’re going to let you leave.” At the door he gives me a sidelong look. “Good luck to you.”

  Cordelia starts weeping again, and then, as if she’s had enough already, she stands up angrily and shouts at me, “All you had to do was give yourself up, Celestine.”

  I freeze.

  “They would have given Evelyn back if you had just surrendered. But you didn’t. I waited for you. And you didn’t. I know that you’re young, but Evelyn is six years old. What kind of leader sacrifices others for their own gain? You and him.” She looks from me to Bahee angrily. “You’re both the same.”

  This insult I cannot take, because I fear that she’s right. While Carrick tries to reach out to me, I storm out of the room, straight to my cabin. I power up a bill-free mobile that Granddad gave me, and I dial one of the numbers I saved into the phone. I didn’t think I would ever be calling this person, but it’s an emergency.

  * * *

  One hour later, the twenty Flawed evaders line up at Vigor’s front gate. Carrick, Lennox, Fergus, Lorcan, and I are hidden from view. Nobody knows what to expect, not even Carrick. I just told them to wait here with me. That it would be worth it.

  This is my chance to prove myself to anybody who doesn’t believe in me.

  A black town car appears in the distance. Eddie looks at me uncertainly; I give him a nod and step farther back into the shadows with Carrick.

  “What’s happening?” Carrick asks.