The Battle for Perfect

by Helena Duggan

  “We’ve loads of the stuff!” Iris said. “More than I remember!”

  Violet explained to everyone about the silk and how it would work.

  “Then, once all the zombies are stuck to the magnet, we take on the Watchers straight away, using the element of surprise!” Violet said, wrapping up. “We need to be ready to fight. Just like in Perfect!”

  “Ready and waiting, pet!” Mr Hatchet, the butcher, cried.

  The crowd cheered quietly again and silent high fives passed round the space.

  “Right,” Violet said, “we’ll meet back here at sunrise. That should give everyone enough time to get ready. Then we can go over any final plans!”

  The meeting finished, the groups were divided up and the hall was abuzz with whispers. Slowly people began to leave in ones and twos so as not to raise suspicion. They headed to separate houses to prepare for the coming day.

  Back at Merrill’s, they worked by candlelight, each taking it in turns to sleep. Violet and Boy, fresh from a short rest, were stapling Iris’s material to numerous boards.

  Violet noticed her friend looked lost and distant. She had an inkling what was wrong and broached the subject.

  “Where were you earlier?” she asked, trying to make her question sound innocent.

  “Earlier when?” he replied.

  “When Merrill and Madeleine were taken.”

  “I was hiding.”

  “Did you hear what Edward said in the Market? About hurting the people you care about if you don’t show yourself? You know we won’t let that happen, don’t you?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “You’re not planning anything stupid, are you, Boy?” she continued.

  The question had been niggling her for a while.

  “I can’t let everyone suffer for me, Violet. I have to give myself up!” He stopped working and looked her straight in the eyes. “I’ll help out until we’re ready, then I have to go. I heard what Edward said.”

  “And you think that’ll help us? Giving yourself up for what?” She was angry now.

  He didn’t answer or look at her.

  Her anger rose and she snapped. “Edward is a liar, Boy! It doesn’t matter if you give yourself up or not, he’s still going to keep everyone captive here. Arnold will hand this place to Powick and her zombies no matter what you do! Don’t be so stupid. Giving yourself up won’t help anyone! If I thought it would, I’d be the first to shove you into his arms. He’s taken my parents too, remember!”

  Boy still didn’t look at her, but his pale cheeks blotched a little. She tried to bring it up again but he continued his work in an awkward silence.

  A little later, Larry Lawn arrived, laden down with bread and soup for everyone. The sound of slurping spread through the room as people filled their empty stomachs. Violet’s worries faded a little, wafting away with the smell of freshly baked bread. She was just tearing a chunk off in her teeth when a loud screech cut through the night outside, so shrill it pierced the windows. Anna, who was standing nearest the door, opened it, allowing cold air to infiltrate the room.

  “Happy birthday, Boy Archer!” Powick sang. Her coarse voice bounced off the stone walls as the microphone shrieked uncomfortably.

  Violet looked at the clock – it was well past midnight. Boy’s birthday!

  “You still haven’t shown up for your party, dearest, and to be frank that’s tested my patience. So here is some encouragement.”

  The microphone screeched again and suddenly William’s voice filtered through the night sky.

  “Don’t listen to her, Boy!” he shouted before a loud and painful cry rattled the airwaves. “I’m… I’m…” There was a thud, another painful groan and the broadcast stopped dead.

  “Dad!” Boy cried, standing up and knocking his soup to the floor. His face was pale and his eyes hollow as his hands shivered.

  Iris rushed to her grandson’s side and grabbed him.

  “He’ll be fine, Boy, your father’s made of strong stuff,” she soothed, though tears watered her cheeks. “Don’t allow that woman to rattle you. We just need to concentrate on what we’re doing here.”

  Boy shook his head. “I can’t let this happen. I can’t, not after Mam, I can’t lose Dad too!”

  “And William can’t lose you either, Boy!” Violet insisted, standing up now too.

  “But she’s hurting him. What use is any of this without him, Violet?” he asked, struggling against Iris. “I was an orphan, I never knew what it was like to have a family. I thought I was fine on my own. But then I found them, and then I lost my mam and I wished I’d never found them at all…! I know how awful it feels and I can’t do it again. I can’t lose Dad too. Please just let me go!”

  “Please don’t, Boy!” Violet was crying now too. “We don’t know what Powick has planned for you. Just wait this out – once we’ve beaten her and Arnold they can’t hurt you or anyone any more!”

  “And while I stay here she hurts Dad and everyone else – maybe even your parents, Violet – just to get to me. Can’t you see? The only way I can stop her is to go to her!”

  Violet strode away. She couldn’t argue with him any more. She needed to be strong and to figure out what the nurse wanted with her friend. If she could solve that, she might be able to help him.

  Iris and the others eventually persuaded Boy to sit and after a while a strange calm seemed to settle over him. Violet ventured back.

  “Maybe I can sneak into Town early and find out what Powick’s doing? She doesn’t need me so—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it! I just want our plans to start,” he interrupted, his knees bouncing rapidly up and down, unnerving her.

  “They will. Everyone is almost ready – we’re leaving soon,” she soothed. “Arnold and Powick and your uncles will be stopped… It’s only a few more hours!”

  Boy nodded, not meeting her eyes.

  It was still dark but birdsong had started to seep in the window, a sign that morning was approaching. Small groups had been arriving all night to grab their invisible hoardings. They were to practise moving with them in various homes around No-Man’s-Land, making sure they stayed invisible before coming together.

  When it was almost time for the final run-through in the orphanage, Violet made her way there across the quiet Market Yard. Boy had wanted to go too and promised he’d remain behind at the orphanage until the battle was won. He’d insisted they go to the orphanage separately so as not to raise suspicion but she had secretly asked others to watch him, worried he’d break his promise and try to sneak away.

  She was just passing the Rag Tree when something rattled the branches. She turned around, a little on edge.

  A large black raven was perched on a branch nearby. Its coal-coloured eyes bored into hers.

  She looked around for Tom but couldn’t see him.

  The bird moved its wings as she stepped closer. Something was rolled up and attached to its leg. She reached out. The raven flapped excitedly and Violet was sure it was going to fly away. Her throat tightened and every muscle tensed.

  Then the raven bounced from the branch onto her extended arm. She tried to relax but her heart pounded. Slowly she moved her free hand for the note attached to the bird’s smooth black leg. Its dark claws tightened, clamping her arm. She flinched and the creature opened its wings again and launched itself into the sky.

  Panicked, Violet grabbed for the rolled paper but only managed to loosen it. She watched the raven swoop across the cobbles into the first laneway, the paper hanging precariously from its ankle. She raced after it to the narrow passage.

  Someone was running up towards Forgotten Road away from her.

  “Hello?” she called.

  The steps stopped and the person turned around, silhouetted against the morning sky at the top of the lane. It was a boy, a bird perched on one of his slight shoulders.

  “Tom,” she whispered.

  “Why hasn’t he come yet?” Tom quivered. “Does he want Da�
�� William to die too, just like Macula? I told you to go. I warned you to get them out of here and now look what’s happening!”

  “What is it, Tom? What’s happening? Please, I can help you.”

  “There isn’t time now, it’s too late. She needs me. If only you’d listened then none of this would be underway. I wouldn’t have to…” Boy’s brother sounded scared.

  “You wouldn’t have to what?” Violet urged.

  “To fulfil my destiny!” he barked, anger ripping through his voice. “Tell him to come. NOW! To give himself up. She’s informed Arnold that she already has Boy – he’s on his way with the army. She’s desperate now! I know what she’s like – she will harm our father and then yours, Violet! This is all your fault!”

  Her heart stopped. Tom turned and raced away down Forgotten Road. She chased after him, her feet pounding the cobbles. His raven launched into the morning sky as they rounded onto Rag Lane and Violet watched the piece of paper fall from its leg and drift slowly to the ground.

  Violet put her foot out to stop the note from flying away on the breeze. Then she picked up what looked like a page ripped from an old book. The paper was thin, yellowed round the edges and the type was really small.

  What appeared to be the title of the book was printed in capital letters at the top right-hand corner of the page: Eye Confess – Windows to the Soul.

  About halfway down she came across a section marked heavily in pen. Lines and squiggles highlighted paragraphs and tiny handwritten notes were scrawled in the margins of the page. Violet bent forward, squinting at the text in the half dark.

  Her heart skipped as her eyes fell on the words “Divided Soul”. It was written in a paragraph entitled “Disorders of the Mind”, which was underlined.

  Divided Souls, it explained, were born with different-coloured eyes. They were extremely creative, with great minds, and could tend towards insanity. The piece went on to name successful people all through the ages who were Divided Souls.

  She turned the page over. The back was also heavily marked, so much so it was hard to read the printed text. Her eyes scanned the title sentence. “The Curse of the Divided Soul.”

  Her hands shook, rattling the paper, as she read.

  The Curse of the Divided Soul is written about in the folklore of many world cultures. The birth of such a weary soul is a bad omen; for the Divided Soul brings destruction to everyone it meets. To break the curse and rescue a family from its horrors, a Divided Soul was often given up as a sacrifice to the gods.

  It is written that many divided persons succumb to insanity as they walk equally in the lands of light and dark, their souls torn between good and evil.

  Many texts speak of two methods in which the curse can be broken. The first of note: the death of the Divided Soul, as mentioned above, lifts the curse from all who have been touched by it. The second: on the occasion a Divided Soul has twin offspring, their soul is split evenly between each infant. It is said that one child shall have the potential to master death and evil while the other can master life and good. The parent is left whole, their soul renewed, and regains their sanity.

  Violet gasped. That’s what she had been trying to remember. Powick talked about the Divided Soul in the letter she’d written to Macula after Perfect had fallen, telling her she’d taken Tom. The nurse said something about the curse being halved when William had twins and that it meant one boy was evil and the other good. Powick said in the letter that Boy was the evil twin. Macula believed that the nurse was just trying to turn her and everyone else against her son as part of Edward’s plans to take back Town.

  Tom told Violet that Powick said he had a black soul, which must mean she thought he was the twin who had the potential to master death. That’s what he meant when he said he had the real power and not Arnold’s machine.

  But if the nurse believed all of this was true then why did she need Boy?

  Violet read on.

  The Rule of Worldly Balance

  The Rule of Worldly Balance states that, if they so wish, only one twin can claim their gift , on the occasion of their thirteenth birthday when they pass from childhood into adulthood. But in order to claim this gift, one twin must kill the other. The blood of the deceased is then used to create an elixir. The blood of the twin whose soul is dark shall create the Prophesy of Death, while the blood of the twin whose soul is light shall create the Elixir of Life.

  The Elixir of Life! That’s what Powick had been talking about with Arnold, what Joseph Bohr said people had been for ever searching for – he said it was a potion to raise the dead!

  Violet’s head was spinning as everything fell into place. Nurse Powick wanted Tom to kill Boy! She was going to use her friend’s blood to create a potion that’d raise the dead, and it could only happen today, on his thirteenth birthday. That’s why Arnold had waited this long; that’s why Powick was so desperate to find Boy. Like Tom said, they’d been planning it for years.

  It was all crazy folklore, like everyone said, but if Powick and Arnold believed it, then Boy was in huge trouble. She needed to find him before the nurse did.

  Violet shoved the paper in her pocket and was just racing up the laneway towards the orphanage when the loudspeaker crackled.

  “Here’s a little tune to welcome the birth of a glorious day, a day that will go down in history, a day when life will be put back into old friendships…” Priscilla Powick droned across the airways.

  Suddenly music filled the skies over Town.

  It sounded like one of Violet’s mam’s favourite songs, the one that crackled whenever she played it, by someone called Vera who sang about meeting again. Rose told Violet it was a song from the olden days. The soft tones and gentle music jarred eerily with the awfulness of the situation.

  Violet bounded in through the double doors of the old building, where everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen.

  “Right, we need to keep practising our positions,” Iris Archer ordered, breaking the stillness. “Ignore distractions. Slingshots to the front, everyone else pack tightly in behind. We need to move out soon and be ready and waiting on Edward Street!”

  Violet watched from the top of the hallway as small groups of Townspeople squashed in behind their hoardings and disappeared before her eyes. A tingle raced through her body as the song continued to play on repeat outside.

  The paper itched in her pocket. Where was Boy? She raced around, asking if anyone had seen him, but nobody had.

  Jack and some others, who’d been lookouts on the rooftops, ran into the orphanage.

  “They’re moving the Committee and scientists into the stands,” Jack panted. “Edward and George are there too but I haven’t seen Arnold or Powick yet! We need to go now!”

  Suddenly everything started to happen. Violet was pushed into place in the front row behind the second hoarding; the first group contained the sharpshooters. Somebody in her pack started to hiss, “One, two, one, two ,” and they moved like a centipede out through the double doors and down Forgotten Road. Violet’s head was frazzled as she looked behind her for Boy. But she couldn’t spot him anywhere and nearly tripped over herself trying. She had to concentrate or she’d ruin the plan for everyone.

  Their first obstacle was the group of Watchers stationed on Rag Lane. Everyone stopped and allowed Mr Hatchet and a small bunch of other Townsfolk to sneak up and take the guards by surprise. They tied and gagged the men, then as swiftly as possible locked them inside a home on Forgotten Road.

  The coast was clear as they left No-Man’s-Land.

  The groups stopped at the corner of Archers’ Avenue and took great care working their way onto Edward Street. The slow, serene music still wafted eerily through the air. Violet shivered. The crowd shifted uneasily behind her.

  Watchers lined the edges of the Town Hall, the arches of which were concealed by drawn red-velvet curtains. Over the canopy, hanging from the roof was a huge sign which read Arnold Archer’s Greatest Show on Earth: The DeathDef
ie r. It was rimmed in white bulbs, their halo glow in the early morning the only electric light on the streets.

  Violet’s heartbeat hammered in her ears as her group stopped just short of the tea shop. She glanced out past the hoarding that concealed them. The small stand was half full now. The scientists sat in the front row. George and a group of Watchers seemed anxious and were questioning them with what looked to be bully tactics – it seemed as though they had only recently discovered one of the five was missing.

  “I do hope they don’t rough them up too much,” Joseph Bohr whispered to Iris, both just across from Violet in the front row.

  Iris grabbed the old man’s hand, squeezing his frail fingers.

  Behind the scientists were Town’s Committee. Violet scanned the faces and spotted her parents. Her mum held firm to Violet’s dad’s elbow. William wasn’t there.

  The atmosphere was fuelled, like a kettle about to boil. A lump rose in her throat. How long was it since she’d last seen Boy?

  She reached into her pocket for the page on Divided Souls but when she pulled it out a small folded piece of notepaper came too. Curious, she unfolded it.

  The paper was worn and dirty crease marks stained the once white page. Tears welled at the edges of her eyes as she read the note. She remembered how Boy had carried it the first time she’d met him, how it was his prized possession. How he thought it had come from his mam though he was never really sure, until the day he met Macula.

  So you will never be invisible , it read in his mother’s neat handwriting.

  She felt sick. Boy would never give this note away for no reason. What had he done?

  “Have you seen Boy?” she whispered, turning around towards Jack.

  “No, not for a while,” he replied earnestly. “Is everything okay?”

  “I found this in my pocket.” She passed the note across. “I think he must have left it there for me. He’s gone to rescue William, I know he has, and…” She hesitated.

  “And what?”

  “And Tom’s going to kill him. He has to do it today, on their birthday – it’s part of Powick’s plan!” Violet’s voice trembled as the words spun out of her mouth.