by Vic James
Abi could see the first batch of prisoners – those broken out of the workshop where the records said that Mum should be – being guided out of the hole in the wall’s northern side, and counted them as they ran. Thirty-one. But the two leading the way weren’t in prison garb; they were rescuers, guiding the inmates to the first wave of getaway vehicles on the industrial estate. So: twenty-nine escapees. Their manifest had said thirty.
One was missing. It wouldn’t be Mum. It couldn’t be Mum.
Thirty-to-one it wasn’t her – why on earth would it be?
But the giant was already sealing up the gap with rubble to prevent any of the legitimately incarcerated escaping, and there was no time to wonder. The chopper was directly overhead and Abi and her beast moved to the fourth corner. As she bent to sever the final tethers, a gunshot pinged off the gryphon’s haunch. Being marble, Tom, Dick and Harry didn’t react, but Abi felt sharp stone fragments whizz past her legs, a few stinging her calf and thigh. The shock, coupled with the weight of the bolt cutters and the downward whirlwind as the chopper descended, threw her off balance.
And Abi fell.
15
Abi
Luckily, she knew how to fall.
Mum and Dad had made her and Luke do a basic mountain-safety course a few years ago, during a walking holiday in Wales, and Abi, at least, had paid close attention. She willed herself to go limp, and landed feet first but immediately rolled onto her side to distribute impact. It jarred all the way up her legs and spine, but she’d landed on grass. A quick check told her that everything was in working order.
Prisoners were streaming into the yard through the gate that had been thwacked from its hinges by the serpent-woman. They were all women – the female residential block had been the first target of Gavar’s team. Abi got shakily to her feet and looked around. Tom, Dick and Harry were still perched on the wall. Midsummer must not have spotted her fall amid the unfolding chaos.
‘Abigail?’
A hand was shaking her arm. Abi blinked. Jessica. Her brother’s friend who she’d met at Highwithel. Oz’s partner, who had gone with him to reconnoitre Eilean Dòchais, before the pair of them were captured at Riverhead. Abi began to protest that she was okay, but that wasn’t why Jess had stopped her.
‘Have you come for all of us?’ Jess yelled over the noise of the rotors. ‘Because we’re not all in the residential blocks. There’s a whole bunch in the workshops.’
‘We got them,’ Abi yelled back. ‘Thirty of them, right? They’ve already gone. You need to go, too.’
She gave the woman a push towards the chopper, which was filling up, but Jessica didn’t move.
‘Abi, your mum should have been with them. But she was taken to the hospital wing this morning. Nothing serious.’
No.
No, that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.
She pressed a finger to her earpiece to transmit.
‘Emily? Emily, come in.’ The woman was co-ordinating the getaways for those escaping through the north wall. ‘Emily, is my mother with you? Over.’
A crackle of static. Then Asif’s voice, neutral as ever.
‘Abi, essential comms only till we’re done or I’ll have to mute you. Sorry. Over.’
Frustration tore from Abi’s lips. She grabbed Jessica’s arm and shook it.
‘Are you sure? How do you know?’
‘I’m sure, because . . .’ The woman shook her head. ‘I’m just sure.’
‘I’ve studied the plans. I know the layout of this place. That’s the hospital block over there, right?’
She pointed to a low, grey building in the compound’s west quadrant.
Jessica nodded. ‘But you can’t—’
‘I have to,’ Abi said. ‘Now get on that chopper and get out of here.’
But Jess didn’t budge. Instead, she picked up the bolt cutters from where they’d landed when Abi fell. A monstrous braying sound made them both jump.
‘We’ve got to be quick,’ said Jess. ‘That’s the lockdown siren. Follow me.’
It was blaring from tannoys across the prison compound. Every prisoner not in their cell was being returned immediately. Entire wings would be sealed off, enabling Security and prison officer manpower to focus on containing the breach. The drill called for total lockdown to take less than seven minutes. After that, the rescuers would face fiercer opposition than they had so far.
But in nine minutes – according to the plan – they would be gone.
Jess was already running and Abi took off after her. The exercise yard was the north-western quarter of the complex. The hospital wing was in the south-western quarter. Between them lay the four residential blocks at the heart of the compound.
It was chaos. The air crackled with static – testament to the amount of Skillful power Gavar Jardine was throwing around. Whole sections of buildings were down, and men and women lay groaning in the rubble, both those in uniform and in the orange-and-grey jumpsuits of the prisoners. Abi had neither pity nor anger to spare for them. Her whole energy was focused on her Mum, and the minutes ticking down until the compound was sealed.
Jess swung the cutters up to slam aside a Security man who had pulled a weapon on them and doubtless expected two women to stop. Abi tracked the gun as it flew from his hands, then sprinted to it.
It was a pistol. She didn’t know how to fire it, but even her untrained eyes identified the magazine lodged in the main body of the weapon. She breathed a sigh of relief as it slid out again in her hands, and stuffed both parts into her backpack. Midsummer had told them to avoid fatalities at all costs, and Abi didn’t want to make herself a target by running with it openly in her hand, but she’d use it – or try to – if she had to.
Jess hadn’t stopped, and Abi raced after her. As they reached the hospital, panting, Abi realized how hard this was going to be without Gavar’s Skill or one of Midsummer’s monsters.
But the lockdown was working in their favour. Patients had to be secured, the same as everyone else, and the hospital’s Security team would have started with the day admissions clinic – where patients would be more mobile and therefore more of a threat – then moved deeper to secure the wards one by one. No patients were held in the reception area, so there was no need for heavily secured doors to the outside. Indeed, the outer doors were easy-release, designed for speedy entry with a casualty, and they flew open after a few hefts of the bolt cutters.
Abi and Jess hurtled inside to find only a receptionist, and two prison officers guarding the sealed doors to the day clinic.
The officers were armed with batons and pepper spray. They were the ones in close contact with the prisoners during the day, and the risk of a prisoner wresting a gun away from them was considered greater than the likelihood of them needing to use one. When fire power was required, Security would intervene. The receptionist was unarmed, though presumably equipped with both spray and a panic button. Nobody would be answering that button, Abi thought.
‘Where’s Jackie Hadley?’ she demanded. ‘Brought in this morning. I’m only here for her. No one will get hurt.’
‘You’re the one who’ll get hurt,’ said one of the officers, slapping the tip of his baton against his palm. ‘Are you part of whatever’s happening out there? You crazy bitch.’
‘Just let us take her and go,’ Abi said. ‘All the CCTV systems are down. No one will be able to see what happened in here. There could be ten of us threatening you. No one will blame you.’
‘Don’t work like that, love,’ said the officer. ‘We’ve got a job to do, and we do it.’
‘Katie?’ Jess appealed to the receptionist. ‘You know me from when I’ve been on cleaning detail. You know why Mrs Hadley’s in here, and that she doesn’t deserve to be.’
The receptionist looked torn, but shook her head.
‘Sorry, pet. I know it’s tough, but rules is rules.’
This was all taking too long – far too long. The lockdown would be nearing completion; the exit holes would soon be
sealed back up as the groups of escapees made it out. Abi shrugged off her backpack, reached in, and hoped to goodness she didn’t slot the thing together backwards.
‘We don’t have time for this,’ she said, straightening up, the gun outstretched in both hands so they couldn’t see how she was shaking. ‘I need the three of you over there, now.’
She motioned with the gun towards the far wall. The effective range of pepper spray was ten feet, maximum fifteen feet, she knew. Over there, they wouldn’t be close enough to try anything.
‘Hands up where I can see them. Now!’ Was anyone falling for this? Apparently so, because the receptionist got up and joined the guards, and all three began to shuffle along the wall, hands raised. ‘You, Katie, throw Jessica your pass so she can open that door. And one of you tough guys, give us the keypad code. Jess, get my mum. If there’s anyone else in there, make sure they don’t get out.’
Abi thought she glimpsed her mum’s face up against the reinforced glass panels in the door of the day room, but couldn’t take her eyes off the trio against the wall to check. Jess needed both the pass and the code for the keypad that controlled the secondary locking system. Then with a click and a beep, Mum was out. Her face was badly bruised, and one forearm was in a plaster cast. Her eyes were red and raw in her hollowed-out face.
The sight of her made Abi want to fire every bullet in the gun. Not at the guards, but just to spray them around to relieve her terrible, impotent rage. Instead, she steadied her hand. Just as with the prison break itself, getting away was what counted.
‘Both of you, to me,’ Abi said. When they reached her side, she barked at the officers to detach and slide over their canisters of pepper spray.
‘Any move to use or open it, and I’ll shoot,’ she said. ‘Do it one at a time. You first.’
She motioned for Jessica to pick up the canisters, then with them both alongside her, backed towards the door murmuring instructions as they went. She nudged Mum out first, stepped through, then watched as Jess emptied one of the spray canisters right inside the doors before slamming them shut. That should discourage the three inside from coming after them. For good measure, she told Jess to wedge the other canister through the exterior handles of the clinic door to secure them, at least momentarily. Even thirty seconds more would help.
‘Go!’ Abi yelled at her mum and Jess.
Abi cracked the gun apart again with shaking hands and shoved it in her backpack, then took off after them down the streets. If her legs were running, they couldn’t be wobbling.
That must have taken nine minutes, surely. The helicopter was lifting off with its second and final batch of escapees. Dad was scheduled to be among them, and Abi strained to see him, but the prisoners were safe in the chopper’s interior. Only Gavar Jardine stood watchfully in the craft’s open side, ready to repel any last-minute effort to prevent their departure. Unlike his intervention at the Blood Fair, there’d be no explaining this away to his family.
There had been no last-minute betrayal. No platoons of soldiers waiting. No Kessler and his brutes with their tasers and guns. Abi’s bones nearly melted with relief that she hadn’t said anything about Gavar’s angry call that morning.
With the north wall sealed and the helicopter gone, the hole in the west wall – through which Renie and Midsummer had entered – was the only exit route remaining. Abi zig-zagged through the courtyards trying frantically to map the space onto her memories of the blueprint and what she’d seen from the air.
‘Head for the watchtower,’ she yelled to Jess, realizing that they’d find the breached section of wall there, where Midsummer was commanding her monsters.
And here came one of them. The ground shook and Abi heard Mum stifle a scream as the giant lumbered past, dragging its enormous hammers.
Then her mother screamed again, and fell.
‘Mum!’
Abi dropped to her knees by her mother’s side.
‘Abi?’ Jess spun.
‘Keep going!’ Abi yelled, her hand clasping Mum’s good one. ‘Or the exit hole will be closed up. It’s in the wall next to the watchtower. Go!’
She didn’t even look to see if the other woman had obeyed. Instead, Abi put her fingers to her mother’s side and they came away red. Mum whimpered, and Abi had never felt so helpless.
‘We’ve got to get you up,’ she said, ripping at the hole in her mother’s prison tunic so she could inspect the wound. A bullet must have gone through, and a runnel of dark blood oozed out. ‘We’re so close, Mum. And Dad will be waiting for us outside.’
Her mother hid her face and moaned, and the awfulness of it made Abi shake. She pulled off her hoodie and T-shirt, made a pad with the T-shirt and pressed it against the bullet wound, then knotted the hoodie round her by its sleeves, as if Mum had just taken it off on a warm day.
‘Up,’ she said. ‘Come on, Mum, please.’
Abi hauled her mother to her feet. She was so light. There was hardly anything to her at all. Was that what Millmoor had done?
But she was still too heavy for Abi to carry any distance. Every step clearly pained her – and on the third one, she cried out and sagged to her knees. Her stifled scream ripped through Abi like a knife.
Abi bent over and reached under Mum’s arms, locking her hands together around her chest, and pulled her upright again, grunting with effort. All the while, her mother was protesting feebly, telling Abi to leave her and run. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
She had failed to rescue Luke. Hadn’t persuaded Gavar to send Daisy over the water. She wasn’t going to abandon her mum.
The back of Abi’s neck went suddenly cold, then pain lanced her shoulders.
She’d been shot, too. This couldn’t be happening. They weren’t meant to die here. Not like this.
Then Abi felt herself lifted. Her arms reflexively tightened around her mother’s chest, fingers locking in a fist. The noise and the yelling all around quieted – even the siren’s blare.
More cold needles dug into her thighs – they were claws, she realized. Quickly, she wrapped her legs round her mother’s, so the pair of them were stacked up as if tandem skydiving.
It wasn’t a parachute that held them up, though. And they weren’t falling, but rising. Abi twisted her head sideways and saw the curve of wings alongside. For an insane moment, she wondered if they were both dying, and an angel had come for them. Then she heard a harsh screech, and Tom, Dick and Harry tossed back their heads as the gryphon bore Abi and her mother higher.
A new terror seized her: she wouldn’t be strong enough to keep hold of her mother’s limp body. But one of those fierce, beaky heads curved down, and with surprising delicacy Tom (or was it Harry?) gripped Mum’s prison tunic by its strong collar. Before Abi had time to cry out, Mum was plucked upwards and laid carefully across the creature’s broad back.
Abi’s view of the ground below was now clear, but she couldn’t see through her blurry tears. She blinked and refocused. A woman in prison clothes was sprinting away from a hole in the wall. A black woman was riding a grey wolf, and a brown girl on a white sphinx followed her. A giant forked serpent with the body of a woman slithered in their wake. As it exited the hole, a last flick of its powerful tails brought down the watchtower behind it, the rubble of the ruined structure blocking the gap.
The mounted woman and the girl looked up, and waved.
What followed was a blur. The gryphon deposited them at a distance from the prison, at the prearranged rendezvous. Mum was unconscious when they touched down, and Abi checked her pulse: steady, but faint and too slow. Midsummer sent her creatures barrelling into the lorries, all except Alba and Leto, then hastened to their side.
‘Healing’s really not my thing,’ she said, looking at Mum’s twisted face. ‘Dina was always good – Meilyr the best. I’m worried I’ll make it worse if I try.’
‘She’ll die if you don’t,’ Abi whispered, unable to believe it had come to this. Her mother bleeding out on the ground before
her. Both the T-shirt and the knotted sleeve of the hoodie were now soaked with blood. ‘Please.’
‘You gotta try, Midsummer,’ said Renie, softer than Abi had ever heard her.
Which was when she looked at Midsummer and realized that the Equal, too, was almost at the end of her strength. Her skin was clammy and greyed. She looked barely able to stand, let alone capable of healing another.
Abi had done this. Her decision to run from Kyneston had led her mother here. She gripped her mum’s hand tighter.
‘I’m sorry,’ she told her. ‘This is all my fault. I’m so sorry.’
‘Shut it!’ Renie hissed. ‘Come on, doctor-girl,’ she said to Abi. ‘All right, so Meilyr was the best. But if he was here, he’d be telling you that you can do this, too.’
She was right. Abi laid her mum’s hand down gently, then pulled away the wadded cloth and inspected the wound. There hadn’t been anything on gunshot trauma in the pre-med textbooks she’d read. The bullet was in there somewhere, but she was pretty sure there was no urgency to remove it – that doing so might actually be dangerous. No, internal bleeding was the risk, and with her weak pulse and lapse from consciousness, Mum was exhibiting the signs. Blood was welling up again, so she replaced the T-shirt and reapplied pressure.
‘I have to get her to a hospital.’
‘They’ll arrest you both,’ said Jess.
‘But she’ll live.’
‘We need to go,’ said the guy who was going to drive them back to Lindum, scanning anxiously up and down the road. ‘This place’ll be swarming with Security any minute.’
‘Wait, I’ll try.’
Midsummer wiped her brow, then bent over Mum, gently removing the impromptu dressing. She frowned at what she saw, then closed her eyes, brow knitting in concentration.
A few moments later, like something repulsive crawling out of a hole in the ground, a dull, ugly nub breached Mum’s skin. The bullet. When Midsummer popped it out, blood welled in its wake, and Abi thought she might throw up. But the Equal laid her palm over the wound, heedless of the blood. Abi watched it spilling blackly over her black skin. The trickle slowed.
