Blood Ties

by Sophie McKenzie

  ‘No,’ I shouted, struggling even harder. ‘No.’

  But they were too strong. The guard holding my arm wedged me against the side window, while the one with the syringe tore at my top. With a sharp prick the needle pierced my upper arm. I felt something cold seeping into me. And then I felt sick and everything went black and I was sinking down, down, down . . .

  I woke up disoriented, icy air whipping round my face. I was slung between two guards, being hauled across tarmac with lights on either side, like a runway.

  I lifted my head a little. Man, that hurt. I felt sick. Groggily I lifted my eyes and looked around. It was a runway. Round lights ran for hundreds of metres down either length of it. And there was a small plane at the far end. A white Lear Jet, stood in front of a brightly-lit building. Like a warehouse or . . . of course . . . an aircraft hangar.

  My stomach heaved. I groaned.

  ‘Kid’s gonna barf,’ said one of the guards holding me. He had an American accent.

  Both guards slid out from under my arm. I stumbled, trying to find my feet, but my legs were too shaky. I dropped to my knees and puked over the tarmac.

  I sat back on my heels, shivering, and wiped my mouth on my sleeve.

  ‘What a waste of Mel’s delicious food.’ Elijah’s voice above my head was cold.

  I looked round. He was standing beside me, holding Mel by the hand, staring down contemptuously. Then he turned to the guards. ‘Get him on the plane.’

  He strode forwards, tugging Mel after him. The guards stepped around my vomit and hauled me up by the armpits. They started dragging me roughly again, but apart from my groggy head, I felt better for having been sick. Stronger. My feet fumbled against the ground. Then I took a proper footstep. And another.

  By the time we reached the plane I was starting to think more clearly. The guards shoved me up the steps. Inside there were five, maybe six, rows of seats. More like little sofas than ordinary aeroplane seats. Two guards were already strapped into their seats at the back. A third was walking through to what looked like the cockpit.

  Elijah was standing in the aisle.

  ‘Sit with Mel,’ he ordered. I made my way towards her. She was near the front of the plane, hunched over, looking out of the window.

  I sat down next to her. Elijah eased himself into the seat opposite. He held out the large phone I’d noticed before.

  ‘This is your last chance to call your mother,’ he said. ‘I would like you to speak to her. I promised her you would. It may be some time before you see her again.’

  ‘Why?’ I snapped. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  A look of exasperation crossed Elijah’s face. ‘We can speak about it after you’ve talked with your mother.’

  ‘Back to Germany?’

  Elijah laughed. ‘Was that where your mother told you I was?’

  I looked away. Mum had even lied about that. Fury flooded through me.

  ‘She was just trying to protect you, Theodore.’ Elijah tutted. ‘Is that where you were going when RAGE and Lewis found you?’

  I said nothing.

  ‘I see. You made the connection with Richard Smith, who was in Germany,’ Elijah said, slowly. ‘Clever. And not really a coincidence. I did live in Germany for a long time. And Richard was there on business for me. Clever of you, Theodore.’

  I couldn’t bear the patronising tone of his voice. ‘So where are we going then?’

  ‘Somewhere safe,’ he said. ‘Now, please speak to your—’

  ‘What was wrong with where we were before?’ I clenched my jaw. ‘Why is Rachel still there?’

  Elijah pressed his lips together so tightly they were almost white.

  ‘Your mother,’ he said, firmly, holding out the phone.

  I sat back and folded my arms. ‘No. Not till you tell me where we’re going.’

  ‘Señor Lazio.’ The second of the two guards who had dragged me across the tarmac materialised beside us. He said something in Spanish.

  Elijah flicked his fingers in a gesture of irritation. ‘Vale. Okay.’

  He looked at me and pocketed the phone. ‘I will speak to her myself. Explain you are angry with her.’ He leaned forwards and lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Because you are angry with her, Theodore, aren’t you? You are not thinking about your mother’s fears at all. Only how she deceived you about me. Only how you don’t need her. Or anyone.’

  Then he drew back a little and smiled at me – a cold, hard smile.

  ‘You see, I was right about you,’ he said.

  He stood up and strode off down the aisle.

  I sat there for a minute, staring down at the seatbelt in my lap. Elijah was right, of course. I was angry with Mum. But I had refused to speak to her only because he had wanted me to do just that. Because I thought it would annoy him. And yet somehow he’d turned it around to make it sound like he’d always known that’s how I would behave.

  ‘Sometimes it’s hard to work him out,’ Mel whispered. ‘He’s the cleverest person I’ve ever met.’

  I looked round at her. The bruised skin round her eye was swollen now.

  She saw me staring and turned her face away.

  ‘It was my fault,’ she said.

  ‘That he hit you?’ I said. ‘No way. He . . .’

  ‘No.’ Her lips trembled. ‘My fault about Lewis.’

  She drew back into her seat and turned to the window again.

  I didn’t know what she meant. But right now why Elijah had shot Lewis was not the most burning question in my head. I wanted to know where we were going. I wanted to know what was going to happen to Rachel. And, most of all, I wanted to know what Elijah was planning to do with me.

  The plane’s engine started whirring. I could hear voices outside. Shouts. Commands.

  I was sure of only one thing. I was going to need a friend in order to survive whatever was about to happen to me. I glanced over my shoulder. Elijah was walking back towards us.

  ‘Mel?’ I whispered.

  She looked round, her cheeks shining with tears.

  I made a fist and thumped it into my other hand – like we’d done with the boxing. I wanted her to see it as a gesture of strength. Of solidarity between us.

  I think she got it. She nodded. ‘Talk later, babe.’

  She turned back to the window as Elijah swung himself into the seat opposite me again. The plane doors slammed shut.

  ‘Fasten your seatbelt, Theodore,’ he said.

  I did as I was told. There was no point fighting and yelling over stuff I couldn’t control. I had to make my priority getting some answers, then getting away from Elijah.

  I gripped the side of the seat as the plane chugged slowly round in a circle and began taxiing down the runway.

  I could survive this. I would survive it.

  Whatever happened.

  I was trying to be strong. But as the plane took off, all I could think about was how I wished I’d spoken to my mum when I’d had the chance.

  42

  Rachel

  My whole body shook.

  I edged towards the chair. Lewis was slumped over the arm, his face pressed into the seat, his right arm dangling down to the stone floor below. It had occurred to me that I should make sure he really was dead. I mean, maybe he was only unconscious. I wasn’t sure what I would do then – dial nine-nine-nine for an ambulance, I guess. If I could find Lewis’s mobile. If RAGE didn’t trace the call and get here first.

  But I was scared. He was lying so still I was sure I was wrong. He had to be dead. And I’d never even seen a dead body before, let alone touched one. I took another tiny step, then crouched down. His nose was creased, pressed sideways against the rough chair fabric. The tip beyond the crease almost white. I looked behind him, at the chair. I frowned. There was no blood.

  I glanced quickly round the chair. If he’d been shot, surely there should be blood somewhere?

  I reached out my trembling arm and touched Lewis’s neck – like I’d seen him do when
he was checking the guy he’d tasered at the school disco. His skin was warm.

  I pushed my fingers in under his chin. I had no idea exactly where the pulse would be.

  He groaned. My hand shot back.

  ‘Lewis?’ My voice was hoarse. ‘Lewis?’

  The arm dangling from the chair twitched. A single blue eye opened and stared at me.

  ‘Lewis? Are you okay?’

  He groaned again, then tried to push himself up off the chair. I put my arms under his and helped him stand. He lurched unsteadily towards the sofa and collapsed backwards onto it, breathing heavily.

  I knelt on the stone floor beside him. ‘Lewis?’

  ‘Water,’ he whispered. ‘Please.’

  I scrambled to my feet and raced into the kitchen. When I returned with a glass of water slopping in my still-shaking hands, Lewis was sitting slightly more upright, his face grey, clutching his forehead.

  He took a sip of water.

  ‘Man, I’ve got a mother of a headache,’ he muttered.

  After a few moments his face started to get some colour back.

  ‘What happened?’ I said. Tears of relief pricked at my eyes. ‘I thought you were dead.’

  Lewis’s lips curved into a gentle smile. ‘Not me,’ he said. He pointed to one of the sofa cushions. A bullet-sized hole was torn through its cover. ‘Elijah’s latest game.’

  He closed his eyes as if it was hurting them to talk.

  I stared at the cushion, then back at Lewis. Why had Elijah only pretended to shoot him?

  ‘Did you see what he did to her?’ Lewis’s face creased. ‘Did you see . . .?’

  He was talking about Mel – the bruise round her eye. I sniffed back my tears.

  ‘Don’t think about it now,’ I said. ‘Go to sleep.’

  A minute later his breathing grew deep and steady. I fetched a duvet from upstairs and laid it over him. Then I sat curled up in the armchair and wept.

  I cried and cried.

  In the end I didn’t even know what I was crying for – for the shock I’d just been through, for learning I really was a freak – a clone – that people wanted dead, for how unloved and unhappy I’d been for years, for missing Mum and Dad, and for Theo, whose arms I wanted to feel round me more than anything else in the world.

  Lewis slept on as my gut-wrenching bawling gave way to softer, shakier sobs. Finally, completely exhausted, I fell asleep too.

  When I woke up, a thin grey light was filtering in through the window. The duvet that I’d laid over Lewis was tucked in around me, tickling my neck – and the sofa was empty.

  I sat up, feeling curiously empty. Like I’d shed some terrible weight I’d been carrying around my whole life. And I was starving hungry.

  Toast smells drifted towards me from the kitchen.

  As I stretched out my arms the door from the kitchen opened. Lewis appeared, balancing a mug of tea on a plate of toast.

  ‘Breakfast?’ he smiled.

  We sat in silence for a while, munching on the toast. Lewis looked lost in his own thoughts. My own pressed down on me.

  ‘Will Theo be okay?’ I said.

  Lewis nodded. ‘Elijah’s not going to hurt him. I’m more worried about Mel.’ He looked down at the floor.

  ‘What do you think all that was about . . . yesterday?’ I said, timidly. ‘Pretending to shoot you, I mean.’

  Lewis shrugged.

  ‘D’you think . . .’ I paused. ‘D’you think he wanted Mel to think you were dead in order to . . . to punish her . . . to punish you both for . . . for . . . being together?’

  Lewis put down his toast. ‘How did you know?’

  I looked away, remembering how I’d seen them on the sofa that first night. ‘Er . . . well . . . you looked like you hated it when he was touching her,’ I stammered. ‘I mean it was quite obvious you liked her.’

  ‘God, then Elijah must have realised . . . Oh God, I messed up my bed so he wouldn’t . . . but . . .’ Lewis groaned. ‘That means it’s my fault he hit her.’ He held his head in his hands. ‘Oh God.’

  ‘No.’ I sat forward. ‘No. She looked like she hated him touching her too. And it was really obvious how much she was into you.’

  Lewis looked up at me. ‘Was it?’ He grinned like a little kid, suddenly looking incredibly pleased with himself.

  I rolled my eyes. It was weird but now the two of us were on our own, it felt different, like we were more equal. It was hard to remember how in awe I’d been of Lewis just two days ago, when he’d rescued us from RAGE. Now he seemed more like I imagined a big brother might.

  ‘I don’t understand though,’ I said. ‘Why make her think you were dead? Why not just punch you? Or say something?’

  ‘Elijah’s like that. Full of complicated games,’ Lewis said. ‘Maybe he thinks she’ll stop caring about me if she thinks I’m gone. Maybe he just wanted to show us both he’s more powerful than we are.’

  I nodded. It all fell into place. Elijah was a bully. Which meant what he wanted most of all was to make other people feel weak.

  ‘I expect he is planning to kill me, anyway,’ Lewis added, bitterly. ‘He just needs me to complete my next assignment first.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Elijah saved my life years ago,’ Lewis said. ‘As far as he’s concerned I owe him everything. Everything.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘I was nine going on twenty-nine,’ Lewis said. ‘Living on the streets of Buenos Aires, hanging with a gang. I already knew how to use a knife and a gun. If Elijah hadn’t rescued me I’d have been dead within a year. He taught me how to read and write and how to move without making a sound. He made me learn English from an English tutor so that I would have no trace of a Spanish or American accent. So I could pass as British, here, where RAGE is based.’

  My mouth fell open. ‘He did all that so he could send you into danger?’

  Lewis laughed. ‘I was an investment. Expendable. As he sees it, he “created” me – just like he “created” you and Theo. Though not in the same league of course. And what he created is his to destroy.’

  A shiver went down my spine.

  ‘So what’s your next assignment?’ I said.

  ‘Deliver you to your new home,’ Lewis said. ‘Elijah is making a considerable effort to protect you. He must owe your father an awful lot – or else . . .’ He smiled. ‘Maybe he still hopes one day RAGE will collapse and he’ll be free to show you off to the world. Be recognised for the genius he undoubtedly is.’

  I shrugged, uneasily. I was beginning to realise that my life would be tied to Elijah’s for as long as we both lived.

  It wasn’t a happy thought.

  ‘What about Theo?’ I said. ‘D’you think Elijah will let me know where he relocates him and his mum?’

  Lewis sighed. ‘From what I’ve picked up, Theo won’t be going back to his mum. Elijah’s planning to keep him.’

  I stared at him, horrified.

  ‘We can’t let that happen,’ I said. ‘Theo won’t want that.’

  And I’ll never see him again.

  Lewis sighed again. ‘It’s what Elijah wants that counts.’

  ‘We have to get him out.’ I sprang up, sending my plate of toast flying.

  ‘And what about RAGE?’ Lewis shook his head. ‘They’re closer to finding Theo than they’ve ever been. I don’t think you appreciate how much danger both of you are in from them.’

  The image of Theo kneeling on the tarmac, that gun pressed against his forehead, forced its way into my mind.

  I sat down again slowly. ‘I do realise,’ I said. ‘It’s just . . . none of this is his fault.’

  A few minutes later, Lewis had finished his toast and went upstairs to shower. I curled back up in the duvet and let my mind drift off, thinking about Theo. His sad smile last night in the kitchen. How he’d held me outside the cottage. At the school disco. Then further back, to how we’d met up at Max’s house. How gorgeous he’d looked when
he opened the door. How he’d told Jake off for hassling me in Max’s kitchen.

  I sat bolt upright. Jake and Max. After Mel had told us they were safe, I’d forgotten all about them.

  Of course. An idea flowed, fully-formed, into my mind.

  Yes. Max was the key. If she really was all right. If she’d only agree.

  If Lewis would agree too.

  By the time he came back downstairs I had a plan.

  Part Three

  Washington, D.C.

  43

  Theo

  We took off just before three a.m. Mel wrapped herself in a blanket and appeared to fall asleep almost immediately. Elijah soon after. I moved to the window seat in the row behind them and looked out at the dark sky. My mind raced. I couldn’t sleep.

  Where were we going? What was Elijah planning to do with me? What was happening to Rachel? I went over and over these questions in my head, my imagination finding no answers that brought me any peace.

  My thoughts kept returning to what Elijah had told me yesterday. I was a clone. More . . . I was Elijah’s clone. But what did that mean? How much of Elijah was really in me? I didn’t want to be like him. He was cold and cruel and violent. And yet he was also powerful – not just because of the guards he was surrounded by. In spite of myself, I had to admire the way he commanded a room by walking into it.

  Then again, he was also a scientific genius, which I certainly showed no sign of becoming.

  How could we be made from the same DNA and yet appear to be so different? What had Elijah said? That when he realised he couldn’t have me with him because it was too dangerous, he’d deliberately arranged my upbringing to match his own as far as possible. Why had he done that? Was it to try and make me like him? He’d said he always intended me to join him at some point? What was that for?

  I shivered. Outside the aeroplane was empty space. We were a tiny white dot, flying through the blackness. Elijah had said his parents were dead – that made me an orphan too. Technically.

  I felt like one. I felt like a plane crashing. Spinning through the sky – unseen and alone.