When my vision cleared and I looked up again, I saw an extremely irate Sergeant King standing before me.
“Chelsea Thomas, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say...”
Chapter Forty-Two
“Prisoner Thomas, you have a visitor.”
I looked up at the Custodian guard and sighed, wondering who it was. It was probably Ryan again, but maybe my mother finally decided to pay me a visit after I had languished in here for two months.
Poor woman, her life had been destroyed. First her husband was falsely imprisoned and set free, and then months later imprisoned again for drug use. Then, on another night, her beloved son was killed, her not-so-beloved daughter was imprisoned for her part in the breakout, and her youngest daughter escaped from the town. At least she didn’t have to go through the anguish of seeing her son executed by lethal injection, as I heard happened to Matt. I felt a twinge of guilt every time I recalled his fate, but in all honesty, he reaped what he sowed.
From what Ryan told me in confidence, Jack had done as I suggested. He made a plea bargain with the Custodians, giving them the names of those he knew were involved in distributing and selling drugs throughout Newhome in return for a life sentence. Oh, he also told them the breakout was my idea and everything else I did while masquerading as my brother.
His stab at revenge almost paid off, too, because the magistrate handed me a death sentence for being the instigator of the breakout and tricking the guards at the gate. However, the sentence was reduced to life in prison because I remained behind to save Ryan’s life and gave them information on the smuggling and drugs operations.
So that was it for me, consigned to spend the rest of my life behind bars making clothes for people who lived in a different sort of prison. I would never choose my own destiny, never have the ‘freedoms’ I enjoyed while living in the homeless shelter. I would live out my days as an embittered inmate, ruing the lost opportunities to escape.
I didn’t regret staying back to save Ryan’s life, but the cold reality of staying in this inhospitable, sterile prison until I died wore me down. Sometimes I found myself wishing I had let Con shoot me.
They woke us at six every morning to exercise in a concrete yard surrounded by walls topped with razor-sharp barbed wire. Then came a breakfast prepared by the prisoners, which was often inedible due to an inmate with a grudge or bad attitude seasoning it with phlegm, dirt, sawdust, or worse.
I made some friends, but the inmates backstabbed each other constantly, forming and reforming cliques in endless attempts to one-up each other.
I spent sleepless nights and painfully long days making clothes while mourning the loss of my brother. I was also plagued by guilt because I let my father down so badly, even mistaking his sacrifice as nothing more than self-preservation.
The Custodian led me out of the cramped factory workshop, through a set of iron doors, and into a private visitation booth. I sat upright in the seat, too afraid to look at who sat on the other side of the glass. I hoped it was my mother. I wanted to see her.
“Eldest Daughter.”
My head snapped up. “Father?”
He looked uncomfortable and guilt-ridden, but smiled hesitantly. He probably thought I was going to bite his head off like the last time we met. He looked much better than when I last saw him, with colour in his cheeks and some flesh on his bones.
“They let you out of prison – that’s wonderful!” I said.
“Your brother put a signed confession in the mail before he died,” Father said. “He explained that the drugs found under my bed were his, and that I put myself in prison to escape the debt collectors. Apparently, pretty much everyone in the criminal syndicate is now either dead or in prison. The magistrate even ruled that all those in debt to the syndicate be given back a percentage of the money we paid them, saying that the games were not only illegal, but had been fixed. I was discharged from prison and given two-hundred hours of community service for engaging in gambling.”
“So you and Mother–”
“Are back together, in a two bedroom flat. Someone even arranged for our furniture to be repaired and sent back to us. Still, it’s like a morgue in there without you three kids.”
The furniture was obviously Ryan’s doing, working quietly behind the scenes and taking no credit for his good deeds. I would thank him next time he came to see me, which was about once a fortnight.
“Karen got out safely,” I whispered. I wanted to tell him this two years ago, but there was no way of getting a message to him. All of our letters were vetted.
He looked at me strangely and seemed to struggle with his answer. “I heard rumours about the breakout. You think she’s okay out there?” he said at last.
“She was with a bunch of foragers, and they know the ruins like the back of their hands. She’ll be living the good life in Ballarat by now.”
“Right.” He nodded, and then with pain in his eyes, asked, “And Brandon?”
“What did they tell you?” I asked.
“Not much, just that he died taking down the gambling syndicate. Also that we have to keep his and your involvement in that, as well as his death a secret so that there are no recriminations from any syndicate members who may have slipped through the cracks.”
“He went there to rescue Karen and me.”
“That sounds like him. Were you with him, you know...?”
I nodded. “Yes, both Karen and I were with him at the end.”
He looked comforted.
“Father, why didn’t you tell me the reason you put yourself in prison? Why didn’t you tell us Deacon was trying to make you sign marriage contracts?”
“How could I? It was my stupidity that got us in that predicament in the first place. Eldest Daughter, look, I just want to–”
“Don’t say it,” I said quickly, cutting him off. “We let you down just as much, Father. We knew you were in a bad way after you got out of prison the first time, but we weren’t there for you. We saw your pain, but didn’t try to alleviate it. We should be apologising to you.”
“You did try to help, I just wouldn’t let you,” he said.
The guard came back in and stood behind me. “Visiting time is over,” he said gruffly.
My father stood.
“How’s Mother?” I asked quickly.
“Same as usual.”
“Sir, if you don’t mind?” the guard said, pointing to the door.
“Please look after her, Father. In spite of what she says, she cares for you,” I said. Which was true. She refused to join the breakout because she wanted to wait for him to get out of prison so she could take care of him.
Father looked surprised, but nodded in understanding, and took his leave.
I sagged in my seat, relieved to see him out of prison and back with Mother, and glad I finally had a chance to apologise for the way I treated him. Maybe he would keep visiting me over the years? Something to look forward to.
* * *
Two years passed since they let my father out of prison. Two painfully long years of endless spats between the inmates, sometimes mediating between them, sometimes keeping my distance.
I was in the workshop, sewing the hem onto a set of work overalls, when a guard stepped into the room.
“Prisoner Thomas, your presence is requested in the interrogation room.”
I rolled my eyes in exasperation but followed him without complaint, wondering what was up. When I was arrested, the Custodians interrogated me for hours on end, but I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of them since. All their questions had been related to the breakout, Dan’s murder, the drug dealing and smuggling. I even advised them to remove the contents of the drugs laboratory in Hosier Lane and destroy them elsewhere, rather than blow up the building. They did not want a war with the Loopers. And thankfully, there had been no questions about my ability to echolocate. Ryan kept it secret.
The Custodian led me to one of the prisoner interrogatio
n rooms.
He opened the door. “Go in.”
Fearing the worst, I entered the Spartan, windowless room, and did a double take when I saw Ryan Hill sitting at the table, wearing his Custodian uniform. But why was he visiting me here and not in the visitation centre? Was he here on business? Sometimes, when I was particularly down and beset with doubts – which was often these days – I wondered why he continued to visit me. It’s not like we had any chance of ever being together, considering my life sentence.
“Sit,” he said. And not kindly, surprising me.
The guard closed the door behind us, and Ryan’s unpleasant demeanour dropped away immediately.
“Hey, Chelsea, how have you been?” he asked.
“Couldn’t be better,” I replied.
“That’s the spirit.” He studied my face for a moment, and then suddenly went to the door. “Want to get out of this place?” A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
I rose from my seat and touched his arm. “Don’t kid about, Ryan, not on something like this.”
He smoothed a strand of unkempt hair behind my ear. “You didn’t think I was going to let them keep you locked up in here forever, did you?”
He opened the door and I followed him in a daze down the hall to reception, where the Custodian behind the desk signed documents Ryan was carrying. I glanced at the papers, thinking they must authorise my discharge from prison, but confusion reigned when I saw the document was titled ‘Prisoner Transfer.’
Before I had a chance to ponder what that meant, Ryan opened the heavy steel door and I followed him out into a world of brilliant sunlight glinting through trees that swayed violently in a strong wind, a world of crows cawing and dogs barking.
He looked at the wonder on my face. “Never thought you’d see all this again, eh?”
“Ryan, what’s going on?”
He pointed to a G-Wagon parked a further up the street, occupied by a driver and passenger. They were engaged in conversation, but were out of earshot, thanks to the wind.
“Chelsea, you uncovered in a few short weeks what we Custodians couldn’t find over several years of raids, spot searches, and investigations.”
“So?”
“So, rather than let you languish in prison forever, I found a way you can use your unique abilities for the good of the town.”
“By doing what, exactly?” I asked, highly suspicious. Alarm bells were ringing on a number of levels.
“Serving the Chancellor masquerading as a young man who can go into places that no Custodian – even one like me – could ever go.”
“My brother’s dead, remember?”
“Apart from your parents, who have been sworn to secrecy, no one knows that,” he replied.
“I won’t do it,” I snapped. Serve the Chancellor, the primary cause of this town’s problems? No way!
“You’d rather serve out your life sentence?”
“Prefer that to spying for the Chancellor.”
“I’m trying to help you, Chelsea! Why do you have to be so stubborn!”
“Didn’t ask for your help!”
“Look, I don’t know how to break this to you gently, but I told them you can echolocate when I found out this would get you out of prison.”
“You did what?” I nearly shrieked. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I trusted him with my darkest secret, the one that would result in my death should it be discovered. And here he was telling me he actually revealed that secret to the Custodians. I thought I could trust him! And now this, the ultimate betrayal! I stared daggers at him, my head spinning in circles. I thought I knew him, but I was wrong, so wrong.
“I didn’t tell you at first because I didn’t want you to freak out when you found out where I’m sending you,” he said, oblivious to the effect his betrayal was having on me. Did he not know what they did to echolocaters?
“Where are you sending me?” I demanded angrily.
“See the G-Wagon over there? Specialist Madison Taylor is going to accompany you to–”
“Wait, the specialist is a woman? How is that even possible? What’s going on, Ryan, where is she going take me?” I asked.
“The Genetics Laboratory,” he said slowly.
Chapter Forty-Three
“What? No!” I stammered. My worst fears had been realised. I was going to the one place I feared more than any other, the place I would be dissected.
Confused by my panicked reaction, Ryan grabbed me by the shoulder. “What’s wrong, Chelsea? You will be safe there, I promise!”
I tried to pull away from him, shaking my head. “No, I won’t! They’ll cut me up so they can study my mutation.”
“Just listen, will you?”
“I won’t be a lab rat – I’d rather die!” I frantically tried to pry his hand off my shoulder, but his grip was like a vice. From the corner of my eye, I saw the woman in the G-Wagon turn to appraise me.
Ryan suddenly put his mouth to my ear and whispered. “You aren’t a mutant or a result of evolution.”
I ceased struggling. “What?”
“Around twenty years ago, one of the senior geneticists carried out illegal genetic experiments on a number of foetuses. You are one of those children.”
I was about to refute his statement as ludicrous, but remembered the elderly Chinese gentleman who warned Brandon and me to hide our abilities when we were five.
I looked up into Ryan’s eyes. “The geneticist who altered us was Chinese, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“Because he warned my brother and me to hide our abilities or we would be dissected by the geneticists.” I always wondered how he knew we were echolocaters. Now I knew – he was the geneticist who altered us. He must have kept track of us after we were born. However, learning that Brandon and I were biologically engineered was quite a shock. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or furious that this was done to us without our parents’ permission. Without our permission.
“He really said that?”
“Yes, and that’s why I know they’ll cut me up if you send me there! Please Ryan, don’t do this!”
“I don’t know what that’s all about, but Specialist Madison over there is an echolocater like you, and not the only one either. She told me there is a group of girls like the two of you living in the Genetics Laboratory.”
“Living in the Genetics Laboratory?” Living as in not dissected? I was shocked. Here I was thinking Ryan had betrayed me to my death. Was I wrong? Had I spent my life in fear for naught?
“That’s right.”
The penny dropped. “But working for the Chancellor as spies, right?”
“Something like that.”
“I still won’t do it,” I said.
“There’s something else I need to tell you.” He sent a sidelong glance at the G-Wagon and continued to whisper. “I need you to go there and find out what the geneticists are really up to. And when you uncover what it is, report back to me.”
I looked at him in surprise. “This isn’t exactly above board, is it?”
“What do you think?”
“What are you, Ryan, a double-agent? Who do you really work for?” How many layers deep did this guy go? Just when I thought I finally worked him out, he went and surprised me again.
“I’m just one of several citizens who are very concerned about what’s going on in that lab. You’re our first and probably only chance of getting an agent in there.”
I was mightily tempted to do what he asked, since I considered the geneticists the personification of evil and I would do anything to destroy them.
“I don’t know, Ryan.”
“The need to know what the geneticists are doing in that lab is the reason I wouldn’t leave Newhome with you,” he said.
Another revelation, and one that made more sense than the reasons he gave me earlier. “It means that much to you?”
“Yes.”
“What exactly are you afraid they’re
doing?”
“Let’s just say we don’t believe the Founders established this town out of the goodness of their hearts. There’s a lot of things that just don’t add up. Our culture was supposedly designed so we wouldn’t make the same mistakes our ancestors did. But how can that be relevant when there are other inhabited towns dotted all over Australia, none of which adhere to the Founders’ teachings.
I searched his eyes, saw the sincerity in them, and realised I couldn’t deny his request. Not if it meant that much to him. To us all, perhaps.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, but be real careful, okay? And then, when this is all over and the town is safe–”
“Don’t say it–”
“–I promise nothing can keep me away from you.”
Hearing him declare that he still wanted me in his life caused my heart to race and my face to burn. I saw his determination and wished I could share his enthusiasm that such a future was possible. I just wished we could go back to when I was impersonating Brandon and we spent our days foraging together and evenings working out at the gym.
“Sorry, Ryan, I no longer believe in happy endings,” I said.
“Then I’ll believe for the both of us. I’m sorry, Chelsea, but you really need to go.”
Fearful, and beset with a world of doubts, I nodded and turned towards the waiting vehicle. After a few steps, I looked back at him and memorised every line of his face. I didn’t know when I would see him again, but however long it was, I knew I would miss him dearly.
Chapter Forty-Four
I reached the G-Wagon and the woman gestured for me to climb in and sit beside her. I did so, even though I was shaking like a leaf. I couldn’t believe I was going to the Genetics Laboratory, and that it wouldn’t result in my death.
She was a girl around my age even though she wore a Custodian uniform. Her face was heart shaped and her golden blonde hair was up in a tight bun. As I sat apprehensively beside her, she examined me as though I was something unpleasant she’d stepped on. Then to my astonishment, she sang out with flash sonar, studying my throat.
Impersonator (Forager Impersonator - A Post Apocalyptic Trilogy Book 1) Page 28
