by Kim Curran
I returned my focus to the room. Unwin and Williamson were already checking their weapons. CP stood next to me, chewing on her nails. Turner, who hadn’t said a word throughout the entire exchange, was hunting for something in one of her pockets. Whatever it was, she seemed to find it in her left pouch. She pulled a clenched fist out and slipped the object into her breast pocket. I saw a glint of gold. The rest were looking to me, waiting for their orders. Even Cain seemed to be expecting me to have an answer.
“If they had it, we’d know,” I said. “They’d have sent us another of their little messages to make sure of it.”
Zac’s eyes blinked as he thought through the options. “The Com’s right. We might still have time.”
“Right, Tyler,” Cain said. “I want you to take a small team and go and check it out.”
“Agreed,” I said. “Black, Unwin, Williamson and…” I hesitated before saying Aubrey’s name. I was caught between wanting to protect her and wanting to stay close to her. “Jones,” I finished. “Suit up.”
Turner took the news that she wasn’t coming on the mission with a small nod. I didn’t think she was up to being on duty, anyway. CP muttered about it not being fair that she didn’t get to go.
“I suggest you take the good doctor with you, too.”
“No!” I said, glaring at Cain.
He raised a ragged eyebrow. “Do we have a problem, Tyler?”
“I don’t think a civilian should be on the mission,” I said hurriedly.
“Please,” Frankie said. “I was a solider for ten years. I’ve seen as much action as you. And you need me. What if the virus is released? Who will treat you?”
“I thought you said there was no antidote.”
“No. But you can either die screaming or I can help ease the process.”
We stared at each other, neither willing to back down or show the slightest crack of weakness.
“I think a Shifter-targeting, flesh-eating virus getting into the hands of the enemy takes priority over whatever problem you have with the doctor, don’t you, Tyler?” Cain said.
I turned my glare on him. In my anger, I felt a familiar buzz of power, different to how it felt to Shift. It was the same feeling I got when I’d broken free of Frankie’s hold. I knew I could Force Cain. I could make him listen to me. And yet, maybe he was right.
Besides, if she came with us, I could keep an eye on her. “OK.” I turned away, letting the power drain away.
Hedges stepped forward, fists clenched by his side, clearly trying to conceal the pain he was still in. “Permission to join the squad, Commandant.”
I’d read Hedges’ files on the way to extract him. He had an exemplary record, had proved himself in combat on at least eight missions, and his profile made a point of his 160 IQ. He would be a good asset, but he had a lot of healing to do first. And not only physical.
“We’d be proud to have you,” I said, ignoring Frankie’s gasp and Ladoux’s sudden turn of head, “but not today. There will be other missions, Hedges. This war isn’t over yet.”
Hedges nodded his understanding.
Ladoux squeezed his shoulder. “He’s right,” she said. “You need to stay here.” Then she leant in and whispered in his ear so quietly that I couldn’t hear. And yet, I found I was able to read her lips. “You will have your revenge soon enough.”
I coughed, hiding my discomfort at having witnessed that private moment. “Right, what else do I need to know?”
“We’ll need to follow hazmat procedures,” Frankie said. “You can’t go into a place like this and start blowing things up.” This was directed at me.
“What do you need?” I asked, ignoring the implication that I was only good for one thing.
She listed a series of things, including hazmat suits for the whole team.
I clicked my fingers at Unwin and Williamson, who jolted to attention and ran off to get what was needed. “OK. But once we’re on the ground, you follow my lead, do you understand?”
Frankie nodded, resentfully.
I leant in so that only she could hear “If I get the tiniest suspicion that you are screwing with me, I will finish you.”
“You might have everyone else fooled, Commandant Tyler,” she said, softly. “But I have been working with sick Shifters for fifteen years. I know a reality attack when I see one. So the question is, how much longer can you hold on before you break altogether? You should let me help you before it’s too late.”
Could I trust her? The woman who had once taken everything from me was now offering to help me. Could she help me find a way home? No, I didn’t believe it.
I tuned away from her and addressed the squad. “We leave in ten.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The landscape below us changed from the grey slate of the scarred city to a patchwork of yellows and greens as we flew out into the countryside. Out here, where nature carried on like always, it was almost possible to believe the war wasn’t happening.
Aubrey peered down, a small smile on her face. She’d said she’d been based in Brighton before they’d moved her to London. So was this where she’d grown up? Amid the rolling hills of the Sussex countryside? I remembered what my Aubrey had said about her childhood, how she’d been taken into the agency at the age of seven, how her mum had killed herself. I wondered how different this Aubrey’s early life had been.
I recognised the landscape from my youth, too. Mum and Dad had taken Katie and me to a holiday village out here once. Somewhere to offload us onto a bunch of organised kids’ activities, while they relaxed in the log cabin’s hot tubs. But we hadn’t minded. Some of my best memories of my childhood had been there.
The rhythmic whoosh of the blades settled in time with my calming pulse. It felt right to be up here, on my way to another mission. I felt like I had purpose. Focus. I was where I was supposed to be.
I tried to push that thought away. To fight to hold onto my past and stop it from blending in with this present. But it was becoming harder and harder. Had those memories of childhood trips to the forest been his or mine? I wasn’t sure anymore.
Unwin, Williamson and Zac chattered the whole way, trading stories and insults. Williamson was dry to the point of scathing. But anytime he said anything that came close to upsetting someone, he softened it with one of his dazzling smiles. Unwin, who seemed to be the brunt of most of the jokes, was taking it all in good humour. Aubrey listened, smiling at the bawdy humour, without joining in.
That was, till Unwin nudged Williamson and nodded to her. “Hey, Williamson, did you hear the one about why women make better soldiers?”
Aubrey cut him off before he had a chance to deliver the punchline. “Because our brains aren’t located in our combats?”
Unwin laughed and tried to rile her again. “How did you lose your eye, Captain? Did you poke it out with an eyeliner pencil?”
“I told someone I’d rather tear my eye out than have to serve with you, Unwin. And then I got sent here. So…” She shrugged.
Zac and Williamson rocked with laughter. Unwin tried to come back with something, then gave up and laughed along. “Nice one, Jones.”
Frankie appeared to be bored of the trip. She sat with her eyes closed and head resting against a metal strut behind her. If it wasn’t for the fact that she periodically opened her eyes to check her watch, you might think she was sleeping. She was dressed in the same black jumpsuit as the rest of us, but instead of regulation boots, she was still wearing her pumps.
“We’re coming up on the location,” Ladoux said over the radio. “I’m not picking anything up on visual.”
Zac clambered over Williamson’s leg and slid the door open, causing the wind to whip around the cabin. A bump of turbulence knocked him forward.
Williamson grabbed hold of Zac’s arm, stopping him from toppling forward. “Try not to die.”
Zac smiled in gratitude and took hold of the safety bar before stepping out to the foot rail. He flipped down his visor to focus on
the landscape below.
“I can’t see anything, either,” Zac said after a while, and pulled himself back inside.
“There,” Aubrey said, pointing out the window, “Between those two copses of trees.”
I looked where she directed and caught a glimpse of sunlight reflecting on a metallic surface.
“Set us down between the trees,” I said.
Unwin and Williamson checked their equipment for what must have been the thousandth time. The more time I spent with them, the more I noticed the little adjustments they’d made to their kit. Unwin had “Point and Shoot” painted on the side of his helmet, while Williamson had drawn what I assumed was a unicorn on the back of his flak jacket. It was shooting laser beams out of its eyes. Aubrey, too, had made subtle adjustments, the most noticeable of which were the purple laces she had threaded through her boots.
Ladoux’s uniform was neat and untouched: every button buttoned, every crease perfectly pressed. Her small rebellion was the make-up – her vivid red lipstick perfectly matching her beret. I wondered why someone who took so much care over her appearance had decided to join the British army and be destined to a life in combats and boots. I looked at my own uniform and noticed that, like Ladoux, I didn’t have a thread out of place. The two of us had that in common: playing by the rules.
“Put down in three,” Ladoux’s voice came across the mics.
Right, I said to myself. Focus.
I didn’t wait for the blades to stop spinning before I jumped out into damp grass, the downdraft tugging at my clothes. My boots sank into the ground and the long grass came up to my knees. My trousers were instantly damp.
The others leapt out after me, and each looked down at the ground unhappily.
“Is this a swamp?” Unwin said as he slowly sank into the mud “No one told me anything about swamps.”
“It’s a marsh,” Aubrey said.
“It’s a nightmare,” Williamson said, struggling to free his boots.
“The land is too unstable,” Ladoux said. “I’ll find higher ground and regroup.” Then she pulled back on the controls and peeled away, leaving us alone in the sea of green.
It was hard going, fighting against the mud, weighed down by all our equipment. Frankie made a small squealing noise as her foot disappeared into the soil and then tried to hide it with a cough.
“First time on fieldwork?” Aubrey asked.
“Well, um, yes,” she said.
“You’ll learn fast enough. Fieldwork blows.”
I blinked at the familiarity. Aubrey, my Aubrey, had said the very same thing. I must have been staring, as she looked at me with her good eye. “Everything OK, sir?”
I gave a thumbs up and pressed on, trying to focus on the present rather than being lost in the rush of memories that Aubrey’s words had unlocked.
The rest of the squad appeared to be enjoying themselves. Chatter passed between Unwin and Williamson, and they laughed.
I caught Williamson’s eye. “We did our basic training here,” he said. “Ward lost her boots.”
“And didn’t shut up about it for the rest of the weekend,” Unwin said. “She ended up killing and skinning a squirrel, just to have something to wrap her feet in.” The two soldiers smiled at the memory of their lost friend.
“How long did you serve together?” Aubrey asked.
“Two years,” Williamson said.
“Only five months for me,” Unwin said. “But she used to look after me. That’s why I called her… called her Mum.” He fought to control the emotion in his voice.
“Yeah, she was more of a mum to me than mine ever was,” Williamson said. “Mine was a cow.”
“Yours, too?” Zac said.
I’d never known Zac had any problems with his mother. For that matter, I’d never known anything about Zac’s life other than that he was an enormous pain in my arse. But this was not the time to be baring our souls.
“Focus,” I said in a warning tone.
Unwin swallowed hard and sniffed, responding instantly to my command. Williamson nodded in agreement, and his expression became serious. Having that effect on them reminded me of how I’d Forced the guards at Greyfield’s to obey. A strange mix of power and guilt. I don’t know why the squad listened to me, only that they would. They would jump in front of a bullet if I told them. Loyalty. Power. Were they the same thing?
Do you know why they follow me? He was here again. He was always here. Because they know I will do what needs to be done. They know if I let them die, it will be because their death will have meaning. If I let them live, it will be for the same reason. They know I can make the choices they’re too selfish or too scared or too caught up in their small world to make.
I remembered Cooper and how I’d held him in my arms, making sure he died, because the mission required it. Maybe he and I weren’t that different after all.
No, I thought. We are different. I had to believe that if I was going to hold on to myself. I blocked him out and focused on the feel of the mud sucking against my boots.
Finally, the ground became more solid and progress was easier. Once clear of the marsh, Aubrey and Zac picked up the pace, jogging ahead to the edge of a thicket of trees. They worked perfectly as a team without a word from me. I felt a hot curl of nausea in my stomach, watching them together, so easy in each other’s company. And yet I welcomed it, because I knew, without doubt, that the jealousy belonged to me and only to me. It was a small victory.
I held up a fist, halting the rest of the squad behind me. They responded by spreading out, and seconds later, I could hardly see them, their camo blending into the undergrowth. Even Frankie knew what to do, pressing her body into the mossy ground.
“It’s clear.” Zac was on the other side of the copse of chestnut trees, beckoning us forward.
The squad were on their feet in an instant, moss and bushes suddenly becoming humans again.
They moved through the forest without so much as stepping on a twig. I, on the other hand, stumbled a few times and even hit myself in the face with a branch. But I Shifted to cover up my clumsiness.
Weren’t you trained… at all?
That annoying, nagging voice in my head made its return. It was like he was sitting on my shoulder, ready to point out everything I was doing wrong.
“Will you piss off, OK?” I muttered.
“You alright, Com?” Williamson said, looking at me worriedly.
“Yes, just this… this bramble.” I swiped at a nearby shrub, trying to cover my mistake.
I had to block him out. Even if it meant sacrificing the sharpness I’d had at the Red Hand base.
When we cleared the trees, I saw the very top of a silver dome rising out of a hillock. It reflected the trees all around it, creating its own kind of camouflage.
Zac was leaning casually against the “Do not enter” sign, readjusting his glove as if he was leaning at a bus stop, waiting for his ride home.
Aubrey stood in front of the door. “You’re up, Com.”
I joined her and looked down at the entry system. A palm reader similar to the one at my flat and an eye scanner. I laid my hand on the pad and pressed my eye against the black eyepiece.
Blue light flashed and I felt a scraping across the palm of my hand, deeper than the sample taken at home.
The door swung open.
I looked down at my hand, where a deep red scratch ran from my thumb to my little finger. They certainly weren’t taking any chances here. I shook away the mild stinging sensation.
I turned back to the door. “Masks on,” I shouted.
The team responded by pulling on their masks, the green-glass eyes making them look like sad ghosts. I was about to tell Aubrey to take point when I was hit with an unsettling sense of déjà vu. I knew this place. I’d been here before; I was sure of it.
I took in the landscape. I recognised those trees, that rock formation and, above all, this building. I knew that once inside, we’d find a long corridor leading t
o a small laboratory. But I didn’t know how I knew. An uneasy sensation prickled at the back of my head.
“Something’s not right,” I said, my voice muffled by the mask.
“We should go in,” Ladoux said, eagerly.
“Wait.” I needed to work out what to do.
Aubrey and the rest of the team looked at me, awaiting orders.
“You think it’s a trap?” Zac said.
I didn’t know what I thought. I hesitated, looking between the trees and the bunker. “Let me go first.”
Aubrey stepped out of the way as I pushed open the door. My memory – if it had been a memory – was right. I stood in a narrow corridor, and I had to stoop to avoid banging my head on the low ceiling lights. It led to a small white lab, silver workbenches in the middle, an assortment of bulky equipment, and shelves filled with glass beakers. On the far wall, there was a freezer. I opened the glass door, the black suction seal making a soft popping noise. There were rows upon rows of small vials in polystyrene holders. I pulled out one at random, a clear liquid with the name “Zaire Ebola virus” printed on across the vial. The next was labelled “meningoencephalitis”. The third held a dark purple liquid. “X731608” was written on a white label in tidy red ink. The substance swirled as if there was something alive inside. I placed the vial back and closed the door.
There was no one here. No immediate threat. Maybe I was being paranoid. But something felt wrong.
“Clear,” I said into my mic, still somewhat uncertain.
Zac came first, followed by Frankie and the rest of the squad. Frankie looked much more at home here, despite the fact that she’d lost a shoe back in the marsh. “OK, start packing everything up. And be very, very careful. A single drop of this stuff, and…” She didn’t need to finish.
The squad set about emptying the freezers into two white polystyrene boxes we’d brought. I ran my gloved hand over the metallic surface of a workbench, trying to shake off the sense of disquiet.
“You OK?” Zac said quietly, standing next to me, covering up his mic so no one else could hear.
“I don’t know. I…” I couldn’t explain why everything felt so wrong.
