“Well?” He watched me, hopeful.
Then it came to me. I had one more card to play that would surely convince him he didn’t know me and would therefore invalidate his feelings for me. Then he would have no choice but to let me go.
“Ryan, you think you know me, but you really don’t,” I said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“See that billboard? ‘Report the Mutant.’”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“I’m one of them.”
He looked at the billboard glistening in the rain, taking in the image of the middle-aged man and his two children, all mutants possessing cleft lips and extra fingers and toes.
He looked back at me. “Now you’re just being silly.” All the same, I noticed he couldn’t resist a quick glance at my hands. Counting the number of fingers, no doubt.
“You’ve known from the beginning something was different about me, you just didn’t want to believe it.”
“Like what?” He was getting annoyed now.
“I can hear better than dogs and I echolocate like a bat. That’s why I was able to map the progress of those two Skel crossbow bolts and dodge them so easily. You knew something was off about me then, I saw it in your eyes.”
I had his attention now. His expression was morphing slowly from mild annoyance to dismay, if not horror.
“It’s also how I knew they put the DVDs in your bag. I overheard them talking about it when I was at the other end of the truck.”
“I...I don’t believe you.” He was really starting to freak out now, shaking his head in denial.
“I hear everything, Ryan. I can hear a G-Wagon on patrol several streets off, a mother and daughter arguing about the rain just around the corner, your watch ticking on your wrist, and the rain hitting the umbrella is like small claps of thunder. And, if I was to echolocate loudly enough, I could see your heart beating inside your chest.”
“You’re doing this – this echolocation thing – right now?” he asked.
“I never done it inside Newhome, not since I was five. I was warned not to. Besides, I saw the electricians installing ultrasonic detectors all over town when I was younger.”
“Who warned you?”
“I can’t say. Now, please, I have to get home.” I turned around then and did the hardest thing I had ever done. I walked away from him and didn’t look back. All the same, I half-expected and secretly wanted him to come running after me, to tell me that he still cared for me, that he still wanted me in spite of my mutation. But as the distance between us grew, it became glaringly apparent that I had finally managed to drive him away. And with that realisation I felt let down, disappointed, and ultimately, betrayed. Didn’t he mean those things he just said? That I was the most incredible person he’d met? What of his speech that we could overcome all obstacles in our way? How could he say those things and then reject me and walk away when I shared my deepest, darkest secret?
I wished Friday would hurry up so I could get away from this dump of a town and its never ending parade of disappointments.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Although heartbroken by Ryan’s betrayal, I eventually made it home. Karen informed me as soon as I walked through the door that the thugs had turned up on Saturday morning. They grabbed my wage from my mother and left without another word.
Then my mother got stuck into me, ranting and raving as she voiced her disappointment at my display of disreputable behaviour from spending the weekend at Ryan’s place. Assuring her I slept in his mother’s room had no effect, so I had Karen help me take off my hoodie and shirt. When Mother saw the bandages, she dropped that line of attack.
However, seeing how badly I had been wounded just sent her over the edge about how close I came to being killed, and how something had to be done about the debt collectors. I pointed out that the escape was scheduled for Friday, and then I’d be out of harms’ way for good.
I made another attempt to get her to come with my brother, sister, and me, but she wouldn’t budge. She was as stubborn as a mule, that woman.
With Karen’s help, I changed into a dress, put up my hair, and ducked downstairs to the lounge. I used the public phone to ring the Recycling Works and call in sick. Trajan Barclay was not impressed, probably thinking I was faking it, but as I’d never see him again, it hardly mattered.
After that, I knocked on Sofia’s door. It opened a smidgeon and she looked out warily.
“Hey,” I said.
“What happened to you?” she asked when she saw the sling.
“Slipped over and fell on my arm. Clever girl that I am. Hey, can we have a chat?”
“Sure! I’ll take you to one of my favourite spots.” Sofia slipped through her door and let it click shut behind her. She never let me in, which was a tad strange, as she’d been in our room many times.
She lead me back to the fifth floor and we used the staircase to go up onto the roof. The rain had stopped, but everything was still wet.
I walked over to the edge and took in the view. It was breathtaking. I could see the large, gently sloping roofs of the factories before us, and row after row of glass greenhouses that comprised the market gardens. Beyond the factories and market gardens was North End. I was struck by how different it was to Newhome proper. Roads paved with coloured bricks, beautiful apartments, the multi-storey Chancellery that tapered to a spire, and the five-storey Genetics Laboratory with exterior walls made entirely of one-way glass.
“Quite a view, isn’t it?” Sofia said, wrapping her arms around her slim torso. “I like coming up here.”
“It’s amazing, except the Genetics Laboratory looks even more daunting from up here.”
“Daunting?”
“You know, intimidating, scary,” I said.
“What’s scary about a place that makes new strains of vegies, fruit, and chickens? Hey, you ever seen a photo of what chickens used to look like? Ours are a far cluck from the originals,” Sofia said.
I laughed at her lame joke. “I know, right? Original chickens were capable of a few seconds flight, but not our biologically modified specimens. They’re so plump they can’t get off the ground at all. But to your question, it was pointed out to me the other day that the geneticists are in that place all day, every day, seven days a week. Do they really spend all their time trying to improve the strains of vegetables, fruit, and chicken? Or are they working on something else. Something sinister.”
Sofia raised her left eyebrow. “Sinister? Oh come on. Like what?”
“I don’t know. Just thinking aloud.” A shudder wracked through me as I contemplated the geneticists dissecting children with mutations like mine. If that was true, those men were monsters of the worst degree. The men who told them to do such barbaric things were even worse. Thinking of monsters reminded me of Con and the others, and ultimately, my brother.
Sofia noticed my mood change. “Is everything okay?”
“No. I’ve gotten myself into a jam, and I don’t know what I should do.”
“Why don’t you bounce it off me?”
I took a deep breath, and opened my heart. “I know some people who did something really bad, and if I don’t report them, they’re going to get away with it.”
Sofia didn’t even hesitate. “You have to do what’s right.”
“Complication is, one of them’s my brother, and if I inform the authorities, he could get the death sentence,” I said, letting my eyes wander down a red brick road in North End.
“Oh.”
“See what I mean?”
Sofia nodded. “What is your conscience saying?”
“To do what's right, regardless of the cost.”
“I’m so sorry.” She laid a hand on my elbow.
“But I can't face the thought of life without him, Sofia. Brandon’s always been such a big part of it.”
She looked at me quizzically. “A question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Are we talking about your actu
al brother, or you pretending to be your brother?”
“Come again?” I groaned. Did everyone know my secret?
“Does your brother even exist? It occurred to me I've never seen the two of you at the same time, and then the other day, it dawned on me that the two of you are actually just you.”
“You little sneak!” I said with a laugh. “And you’re right – you’ve never seen my brother. He is real, though.”
I spent the next ten minutes explaining to Sofia what I had been doing and why, and she proved an attentive listener, as usual. When I finished, I told her about the pending escape, and asked her to come with Brandon, Karen, and me.
At the prospect of leaving the town, her eyes had lit up, but then the light faded and she shook her head. “Thank you for asking, but I cannot come. I have to stay here and look after my mother.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “I think it’s your turn to come clean, Sofia.”
Her eyes widened in alarm.
“Your mother’s already passed away, hasn’t she?” I asked gently.
Tears sprang into her eyes. “Yes. Yes, she has. Last year, in fact.”
“So why hide the fact?”
“Because I’m only seventeen and will become a ward of the town if they find out. I don’t want to be placed with some random family I don’t know. A family who won’t want me and will keep me at arm’s length because I’m so deformed and ugly.” She looked away, unable to meet my gaze.
I touched her chin and turned her head gently to face me. “Don’t be silly, Sofia. You’re the most beautiful person I know. I dream of becoming more like you one day.”
“You’re too kind,” she said.
“Not at all.”
She sniffed back a tear.
“How on earth did you manage to hide your mother’s passing, anyway?”
“Official departments in Newhome apparently don’t talk to each other. The hospital knows she died, of course, but when I told the supervisor my mother would be back when she’d recovered, he took my word for it and never raised the matter again.”
“You know what this means, don’t you?” I gave her hand a squeeze and an encouraging smile. “You’ve got no reason to stay here. So I implore you, come with us on Friday night.”
Sofia looked tempted but undecided. “I...I don’t know if I can. I’ve been here so long, you know? It’s my home now.”
“I don’t need to remind you how bad this place is, Sofia. Just think of the freedom of living in a place without stupid rules that treat girls like second-class citizens? A place without Custodians. A place we’re free to take hold of our own destiny. A place that’s not the homeless shelter.”
Sofia smiled shyly. “You think I’d like it there, in Ballarat?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Okay, count me in.”
“Good on you!” I gave her a big hug with my right arm.
* * *
I went back upstairs and got the surprise of my life when I saw Jack lounging against the wall near our ‘apartment,’ looking out the window.
“Jack?” I spoke carefully, reminding myself to be me, not Brandon.
“Oh, hi, Chelsea. It’s, ah, nice to see you.” He turned to face me and wrung his hands together shyly. And looked inquisitively at the sling.
“Slipped and fell.”
“Nothing broken, I hope.”
“Just a sprain.”
“That’s a relief. Hey, I went to your old place but your apartment was empty and your neighbours said you moved here.”
I nodded.
“Because of your father?”
I nodded again.
“Sorry about that.”
“No need to apologise. It’s not exactly your fault, now is it?” I said, smiling.
He laughed. “Hey, I urgently need to speak to Brandon, but your mother said he’s out. Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“Just tell me and I’ll pass on the message.” I tried to encourage him with a disarming smile.
“Oh, ah, sorry, it’s kind of, um, private.”
I moved closer to him. “My brother and I don’t keep secrets, Jack, so don’t hold back on my account.”
“Did Brandon, ah, tell you what we have planned this week?” he asked, watching me closely.
“You mean the breakout on Friday night?” I whispered.
“Oh, he did tell you.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “In that case, tell Brandon that this is completely off the record – if Con finds out I told you this, he’ll kill me. The breakout’s not on Friday night, it’s on Wednesday. We meet at 2am behind the apartment block just south of the eastern gatehouse.”
“Why wasn’t Brandon told this?”
“Con originally told Brandon it was Friday ‘cause he’s friends with Ryan and was afraid he’d let it slip. He was gonna tell him it was Wednesday closer to the day. But, ah, Brandon’s been in Con’s face a bit lately. Arguing with him, mucking up his plans, even threatening him. And as Con has zero tolerance for those who won’t do what he wants, he doesn’t want Brandon joining the breakout. So he’s not gonna tell him its Wednesday at all.”
“So we get left behind?”
“That’s what Con wants, but stuff him, I say. Brandon’s my buddy, you know? Not to mention this whole breakout thing was his idea in the first place.”
“So you want us to turn up on Wednesday night anyway?”
“You cotton on quick.” Jack was all smiles now.
“I’ll give Brandon the message. And don’t worry, we’ll be discrete.”
“Thanks, Chelsea. You’re the best. And, um, I’m glad you’re coming too. Maybe once we’ve left Newhome, we can get to know each other a bit better? You know, since we won’t be restricted by Newhome’s rules and regulations anymore.”
“Sure, I’d like that,” I said, but a little part of me died on the inside. I really liked Jack. Why did he have to have a darker side?
He bid me farewell and darted off with a bounce in his step, leaving me feeling betrayed and angry. They were trying to leave without us!
I wondered if I should turn them in to the authorities before Wednesday for murdering Dan, or simply turn up at the eastern gates on Wednesday night like Jack suggested and go out with them anyway. That’s if Con would let me. Then again, if I went as myself instead of masquerading as Brandon, surely Con would let me go.
What was it with men? Every male I knew, even Ryan – no, especially Ryan – was turning into a major disappointment.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I was still awake in the early hours of the morning, alternating between heartache because I’d never see Ryan again, and disappointment because he let me down so badly. I kept going over our parting conversations, wondering how differently things could have turned out if I hadn’t told him I was a mutant. His reaction hurt me more than I cared to admit, and caused me to doubt my conviction that he was a man of honour and integrity.
I also wrestled with the things Sofia (and Ryan) told me about doing the right thing where Dan Smith was concerned. I debated with the topic from every possible angle, trying to justify doing nothing about it so the escape attempt could go ahead.
It was after three in the morning when I heard a voice whisper my name outside in the hallway, causing me to jolt in alarm. I relaxed when I realised it was Brandon.
I grabbed a coat off the back of the chair closest to my mattress and pulled it over my shoulders with great difficulty. That done, I popped the door open and stole silently into the hallway.
My brother was standing there, unshaven, eyes bloodshot, and wearing filthy clothes. He stank too. He had put on weight, though, so he must have been eating.
He noticed how I cradled my left arm. “Those guys hurt you again?”
I nodded and filled him in on what happened.
“Right, that’s it. I’m taking care of them. No one hurts my sister,” he snarled.
“No!” I squeaked. “Don’t aggravate the matter any further.
The escape is this Wednesday. Once we’ve left town, who’s going to care? We’ll be free of them.”
“Wednesday – I thought it was Friday?”
“Change of plans.”
“Right.”
There was a pregnant pause, in which my anger got the better of me. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth the other day?”
“About what?”
“That you helped the others kill Dan!” I whispered.
He looked at his feet, and shuffled about nervously, but didn’t speak.
“I don’t know you anymore, Brandy. You’re a smuggler, into drugs and porn, and a murderer. What on earth happened to you?”
“How else could I have turned out? Living in a place like this saps the life out of you!”
“Oh come on, adversity doesn’t make someone turn out like that. You’ve got only yourself to blame for the choices you’ve made.”
“Really? I was like you before I started foraging, idealistic and with a head full of good intentions, but Con and the others corrupted me in no time flat. They introduced me to the thrill of smuggling stuff and getting loaded, getting high, and, ah, um, other stuff.” He spoke angrily, as though he was the victim.
“Ever heard of the word ‘no?’” I said. “Even better, did it occur to you to report them to the Custodians? I never figured you’d be so spineless!”
“If I reported them I would have ended up like Dan!” He glared at me, brows furrowed.
“The Dan you helped kill?”
That comment knocked the fight out of him.
“Why are you here tonight, anyway?” I asked.
“Because I don’t know what to do, Chelz. Ever since that day, I can’t get the image of Dan out of my mind. His trusting face as I manoeuvred him beneath the wall. He just stood there, smiling at me, trusting me, while I pretended to take a photo of him. Then the others pushed the wall over, and as it fell on top of him, he managed to meet my eyes one last time. His expression was one of stunned disbelief – he couldn’t accept I could have done such a thing to him.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks now. “Every time I close my eyes, that’s all I see.”
Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series) Page 94
