She sat on the chair he had tied her on, her veil ripped off and her identity revealed to just one man. Yes, she was an imposter. But it was planned. The real V was out there, knowing the right people, knowing the right information. It was their plan only, and Marcus had been a threat to the development. He had to go, and she knew she had done right.
She was nobody. Marcus had made sure to remind her of that, when he had ripped the veil off her face and gripped her throat with his callous hands. Men. They always thought they knew better.
He had tied her to the chair and interrogated her. Who was she? What was she up to? Where was the real V? How long had she been here, pretending to run things? What did she know? He couldn’t get his head around the idea that the real life V hadn’t let him in on her plans. He couldn’t understand that the real life V trusted nobody. That was why V herself had trusted her. Because she was a nobody.
A nobody always gained trust from the right people.
She looked at his body, lying crumpled on the ground. His suit lay open around him and the blood from his heart stained his white shirt, which must have cost him a good couple of hundred euros. Not that he had paid for such a thing. He was a very influential man, who had been handed a lot of free things. But Marcus had grown cocky. He had interfered. He had deserved his death.
In his rage, he hadn’t tied her up properly. Sure, her legs shackled her to the chair, so there was no use in getting to her feet. The key was on his body, in the pocket of his tailor made trousers. She couldn’t reach him. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to move just yet. She relished in being nobody. She was just the girl who had killed Marcus, a wealthy cult official.
She had learnt a lot since being the decoy. Men in this cult hated being led by a woman. They were nice to her face, but the gossip got to her one way or another. Hell, she was sure Kylie liked this version of V more than she liked her actual sister. She had been told everything. The men in this company were plotting to overthrow V. They were plotting to get Marcus in that nice plush office in the top of The Louvre. They were plotting to take control of the dead, to run their own army, to truly bring the new world order to fruition. Did they not know the real V, a woman, was doing just that?
Who are you? What do you know?
Marcus’s words kept playing in her head. She had given him no answers. She had spotted the gun in his back pocket, and had waited for the right moment. She was a ruthless nobody who had killed many people. She didn’t care who this bastard was. But he had no right to start acting cocky and ruin everything.
The man dead at her feet was married. He had a wife somewhere in Amsterdam, where government had their main factory line of the dead on the outskirts. He had been a pioneer in achieving the distribution of the virus, but since then he had lost his way, and had tried to gain his own control, get a promotion.
There were no promotions in the Illuminati. The real V was the leader and it would stay that way. In some ways, nobody was proud to be the decoy.
The ring on his wedding finger glistened in the dim light that was on the low ceiling. They were in the lowest part of the Louvre, a couple of hallways away from the cells. Not a soul had been past in the past hour.
She sat on the chair, her bum numb from not moving, and listened to her own breathing. Her heart seemed to pump in her ears. That was the thing about killing someone: the adrenaline took a good couple of hours to go away.
She was jumpy. She had scared herself when her foot had moved slightly, making the shackles clink against the leg of the chair.
Tell me, where is the real V?
The gun that had been placed to her temple had scared her. She thought it was truly over. She had almost lost it, right then. It was something the real V hadn’t anticipated: the men realising that she was a decoy. She still didn’t know what had given it away. Was it the way she had walked? The way she had spoken? She would never know, now. Not now that he was dead.
What scared her was whether or not he had told anybody about his suspicions. She truly hoped he had only known when he had challenged her. If that was the case, she was safe for a little bit longer. They hadn’t seen anybody else since he had challenged her, which meant she had diffused the threat.
What if she had told him? What if she had told him everything and let him get away with it? She laughed, a girly laugh that was unlike the true V. That would have truly blown everything, and she would be dead right now, not him. No, she knew the real V would award her once everything had been found out.
But she didn’t know what she needed to do about the body. She didn’t know how she would explain this one. After all, she had been the last person to see him alive. A man didn’t die from a bullet wound to the heart of his own accord, did he now?
No, she had to do something. She had to think of something. How was she to dispose of the body without being seen? She was just a decoy. She was nobody.
Who are you? What do you know?
“My name is Ruby Minister. I’m the decoy. The real V is with The Union, and she is one step ahead.”
Pretty Ruby Minister looked at the body beneath her. If only he was alive to hear her confession.
Chapter Thirty-Three
They headed out of their accommodated living, and into the street. Something about the night set Winter on edge. There was a feeling that haunted her, as if the spirits of the dead were restless and wanted to be avenged.
“Winter.”
Winter stopped. She turned around to see David in the doorway of one of the houses on the street. Winter had forgotten that the other homes were occupied, too. She had rarely seen anybody else but her own people.
“David,” Winter said. The group behind her had stopped, too. David Herald couldn’t prevent them, and he couldn’t know anything.
“Where are you going?”
Winter hadn’t seen David since the bite. She didn’t even know if the story they had been working on had been published yet. She didn’t care. She just wanted to get away from him, because he couldn’t know anything. “I’m going nowhere.” Winter looked up at the night sky. Why was David out at midnight, anyway? “I just thought we’d go for a little parole.”
“You shouldn’t be out this late at night. It is dangerous.”
“Why are you?” Lara asked, coming to stand next to Winter. Zach and William hid their guns behind their backs.
“I keep watch, too,” David said. “Are you carrying weapons?”
“No,” Lara said, but she wasn’t very convincing. Her gun was too big to truly hide under her clothes, and David was sharp.
“Like you said, mate,” William said. “It’s dangerous.”
“What have you got planned?” David asked. “Winter, I need to know what you’re doing.”
Winter sighed. “Leave it.”
“What are you doing, Winter?”
“This isn’t an exclusive, David. You’re wasting my time. Please, just pretend you didn’t see anything.”
Winter headed away from David, and led her friends underneath the barbed wire tunnel. She knew David wouldn’t drop it, so she was not surprised that he had followed her.
“Winter, whatever you’re planning, I can’t allow it to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Maria would kill me.”
“Maria doesn’t know.” Winter stated.
“And she’s not going to know.” Lara finished.
“I have to tell her.”
“You don’t have to tell her anything.”
They approached the blocked up tube station. If Winter hadn’t escaped from underground with her life, she wouldn’t have known that this used to lead to steps which led to a platform beneath their feet. Wooden planks went from foot to the top of the entrance, and they were chained up and padlocked. They had been crudely covered in graffiti, paintings depicting a nice scene of The Eiffel Tower surrounded by tourists.
“Violet,” Zach said. “It didn’t look that bad when she did it. In fact, it looked am
azing. But that night we had a pretty bad downpour of rain, and all the paint washed off and faded.”
Winter saw how proud Zach was of Violet’s achievement and couldn’t help but smile herself.
“You’re going underground?” David brought her back to real life with a bump.
“Yes, David, we’re going underground,” Lara said. “You can tell Maria that, now. Now go, let us be.”
“Winter, are you crazy?” David hissed. “Don’t you remember what happened when we went underground?”
“Of course I remember what happened when we went underground. Just because I was bitten doesn’t mean I lost my memory.”
“Well you’re acting like it. It’s dangerous, Winter. What part of dan-ger-ous don’t you understand?”
The man before her looked pale. He had black bags underneath his eyes, and his hair was matted on his head. Winter knew he was in his thirties, but he looked older. France was breaking him. The pressure of knowing the truth was weighing down on the former celebrity reporter.
“David. Please.”
“I won’t let you go until you tell me what you’re doing.”
“I’m going to save Connor. The Union aren’t doing anything, so we’re doing it ourselves.”
Winter thought she saw David turn paler than he already was. He blinked and seemed to be at a loss for words, a rarity for him. “You…you have to be joking.”
“We’re not, sorry,” William said. “Lara, where’s the weak spot?”
Lara bent down and pulled at a board. It pulled back, but was stuck with a rusty nail in the corner. With the help of William, she managed to pull it apart, sawdust decorating the floor like grains of sand. What was left was a sizeable crawl space, leading down into the darkness. Winter thought, faintly, she heard the groans of the dead.
“I can’t let you go down there.” David took out a walkie-talkie and pressed a button. Before he could speak, it was hit out of his hands. It scattered across the floor. “What?” He was dazed.
A few seconds later, Maria’s voice came through. “Who’s talking? Ruby, is that you?”
Nothing, then another voice. Cedric’s. “Maria?”
“Cedric, did you try and get through to me?”
David looked like he wanted to bolt for the walkie-talkie and tell Maria what was happening, but Lara had the gun pointed at his chest.
“Someone must have pressed it in their back pocket.” Cedric dismissed. “Wasn’t me.”
“Okay,” Maria said. “Okay, fair enough.”
The line on the walkie-talkie went dead.
“Now, are you coming with us or not?” Lara asked.
David looked like he wanted to faint. “If I can’t stop you, I’ll have to help you. It’ll make a great story. The rescue of Connor Goaty.”
“It’s Getty.”
“Sure.”
Winter hadn’t anticipated David Herald joining them. She could tell by Lara’s expression that she thought this wasn’t ideal. But it was better than telling Maria what they were doing. Winter knew if they stood any chance in saving Connor, however slim, it would be dashed if Maria got wind of what was happening.
They squeezed through the boarded up entrance, and began their descent into the darkness. Winter’s shoes sploshed in puddles of blood that were left behind by those who had been bitten. They could hear gargling, as if the tube was full of pipes, a low drone of groans. Winter knew the dead were lurking, but she couldn’t tell where.
“Keep your guns at the ready,” Lara instructed.
They did just that. They walked over tiled floor, again slippery with blood, and got to the ticket booths. Some had been burnt out. Others had bodies pinned against their sides, those who had been crushed and trampled in people’s haste to get to land. They squeezed past a body lying over a ticket barrier, and Winter prayed it would not wake up.
When it did, it gripped her. She screamed, her voice echoing around the underground chamber. Zach, stood at the escalators, swore. William fired his gun, the silencer making a slight ‘pop’ noise, and the body didn’t move.
“Shit,” Winter breathed.
“That’s what we’ve got to look out for,” Lara said. “And you better hope your scream didn’t attract too much attention!”
Winter silently cursed herself for being so foolish.
“Guys,” Zach whispered.
They joined him at the escalators. Looking down, they saw shadows moving on the wall. The dead were gathered together like drug dealers meeting to distribute. Lara crouched down and pointed her gun. She fired a round, and slowly got back to her feet. She signalled for the group to follow her.
They walked single file and to the left. Winter supposed it was because of their London heritage. It was almost as if people would rush on by them, heading to work, late for something that didn’t really matter.
They stepped on fresh blood and walked the tunnels of the tube station, checking each corner before walking out onto the platform. The scene here was sad, reminding them of the night the dead had gotten in to their defences.
“Awful,” David said, taking out a small camera from his back pocket and lining up a shot. “The people need to see this.”
“It must be great having so much content that you can publish,” Winter said.
David nodded. “I’m still waiting for Maria’s word to release the final newspaper. Your interview is ready to go. It’s made even better by the tragic bite you got and the survival.”
“I’m glad,” Winter said. “I always did make a good story.”
“Maria seemed to think so. She’s very intrigued by your ability to survive a bite.”
Lara had jumped down onto the tracks, her feet crunching on bones from the dead. Bodies littered the platform, but they didn’t move.
“I’m intrigued, too.”
“We all are.”
They followed Lara onto the tracks and walked slowly into the pitch-black tunnel. William drew a torch out of his pocket and lit it, but it barely punched through the veil of black before them. Lara turned almost immediately. “Shut that thing off.”
“Why?”
“It’ll bring the dead.”
“I’d rather see them coming.” Zach admitted.
“Just switch that damn thing off.”
William did. They grouped together, walking aimlessly, hoping that if there were any of the dead in this tunnel they knew about it first.
Every sound they made seemed to echo around them. Everything felt fragile, like they were made of granite and they were walking on glass. One wrong move, and everything could go wrong. Winter wanted to get out of the tunnel. She had to get out of the tunnel. If they were caught from both ends they would not survive.
Then they heard it. Quiet, at first, as if it could have been something inside one of them. But then it came a little louder. A lone groan.
They stopped. Lara’s foot scuffed on the dirt, and it screamed in their ears. They waited, and then they heard feet running towards them. They couldn’t see what it was until the flesh hanging off a torn up face was in front of them. Zach fell to his knees, and the woman’s rotting hands reached out and grabbed David. She pulled him forwards, as if to plant a kiss on him, but her teeth were bared.
Winter raised her gun arm and fired. The bullet went straight through the ruined face, through the nose, and out the other side. The girl shuddered and let go of David, but didn’t die. With precision, William twisted his wrist around to plant the blade of a dagger in the woman’s temple. She spurted blood, and Lara moved out of the way. Then she fell to the floor.
The blood let off a pungent smell. It was thick, as if it had been vomit. William shone the torch on it, and they saw it bubbling ever so slightly, like a boiling pot of water.
“Have you ever seen that happen?” Zach asked.
“No,” Lara said. “I haven’t. I don’t like the look of that. Did anybody get any blood on them?”
“No,” They chorused.
“Good.�
�� Lara said. “Good. Now come on. Let’s get out of this tunnel.”
Finally, after what felt like an hour’s walk, they found the door they needed to go through.
“Are you ready for this?”
Winter looked at the door. Inside, was Connor. Inside, were Blitzers. And if they went inside, they would either come out with Connor, or never come out again.
“I’m ready.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“I can’t believe I’m sat in this house, waiting for those guys to come back, on my bloody eighteenth birthday,” Violet moaned.
“Be glad you’re not out there,” Missy said. “I mean, it’s very dangerous. You could find yourself in trouble.”
“Plus, you’re with some great people right now!” Heidi grinned.
Violet, Missy, Caroline and Heidi sat on the table. They had glasses of wine in front of them, and had been unable to sleep. They were all too worried about their friends, who were underground hoping to bust Connor out of his cell.
“Do you think they can do it?” Violet said. “I was all for the plan, but now it’s happening, and I’m not out there…I’ve had time to think. Maybe this was a stupid idea.”
“Look at it this way, would Maria and Cedric have done anything differently?” Heidi reasoned.
“Maybe they have insiders?”
“And would they have been able to do anything?” Heidi challenged. “I doubt it.”
“I suppose…” Violet sighed. She looked out of the window, disconnected from the girls next to her.
“What’s bothering you?”
Violet didn’t reply.
“Is it Zach?” Caroline asked.
Violet looked at her. She blinked, hesitating to speak. “I’m just worried he won’t be able to hack it out there. He’s too innocent.”
“He’s smart,” Missy said. “He’s not going to let anybody get him easily.”
“But him in charge of a gun, fighting his way out of V’s establishment. I just don’t know if he can do it.”
“He survived London.”
Winter Smith (Book 2): The Secrets of France Page 20
