Oasis
Page 22
The Officers return, and for a moment they move around the back of the truck, and the fabric of the entrance twitches.
But they just brushed against it, and within seconds the truck rumbles to life as the gates screech open, releasing us back into the Outer Sector.
12
We pull Aaron through the streets of the Outer Sector, and no one bats an eye. Kole catches him by the collar of his perfectly pressed shirt, holding a gun to the small of his back as we come up to Nails’ house.
‘Go up ahead of us,’ Kole says, gesturing for us to climb. We do, Jay, then a reluctant Clarke, and then me. Kole pushes Aaron to climb ahead of him, and Clarke aims a gun at him from above.
‘I’m flattered, really, but I’m not going to be getting anywhere with these,’ Aaron says, gesturing to his bound hands.
‘No,’ Kole snaps.
‘I can’t climb with my hands tied together.’
‘Fine.’ Kole unravels the knots holding Aaron’s hands together. ‘Climb.’
Aaron does, with no more objection, and within a minute we are all standing together, tightly packed onto the fire escape.
Jay knocks on the door loudly, and it’s pulled open by a frazzled-looking Kerrin. She falls back a step at the sight of us, and we swarm into the small, humid room.
‘What’s going on?’ Kerrin asks, her eyes widening at the sight of Aaron, whose hands are being re-tied by Kole.
‘Where’s Sophia?’ I ask, glancing at the door, ignoring Kerrin’s question.
‘She’s downstairs,’ she says, shaking her head in confusion.
I jog down the stairs, leaving the others behind.
I need to see her.
When I get downstairs she’s standing above Lauren, who’s reading something out loud to her from one of Ly’s books. My steps freeze, and for a moment I just stare at her, my breath slowing. She lifts a hand to tuck a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, and my heart feels like it’s going to explode.
‘Hey, Sophia,’ I say, trying to sound casual as I approach.
She looks up, shaken out of her thoughts by the sound of my voice. ‘Oh, you’re home.’ She smiles, and it tugs at me, and I don’t know what’s happening to me.
I can hear them coming downstairs with Aaron, and I try to block them out.
‘You okay? How’d you get on while I was gone?’
‘Fine.’ She shrugs. ‘Lauren was reading to me.’
Lauren looks up, and she blushes, smiling at me.
‘Sophia,’ I say, crouching down to look into her eyes. I realise now that they’re not actually exactly like Bea’s – they’re a paler shade of blue, with flecks of gold. ‘I have to do something, but I’ll come find you in a bit, okay?’
‘Okay.’ She looks a little lost in this big room, and all I want to do is stay with her, but I need to take care of something first.
I find Jay tying Aaron to a chair in the smallest room, using it as an impromptu prison.
‘I need a minute with him,’ I say, trying to keep my voice even.
Jay glances up, about to open his mouth, but something in my expression stops him.
‘Be quick,’ he says, passing me by on the way to the door.
I don’t look at Aaron until he’s gone. When I do, I feel my jaw lock into place, my heart racing at the sight of him. In the harsh overhead lighting his hair doesn’t look golden anymore, and I wonder if this is what he looks like through this new lens, if in our world, maybe Aaron isn’t anything but a broken boy in an even more broken world.
But it’s fear that’s causing that tremble in my hands now, not pity.
And then he lifts his head and smiles, and his eyes are still too blue and he’s still too perfect, and my resolve shudders.
‘Quincy,’ he says, like I’m coming home.
But I’m not, I remind myself, shaking my head.
‘I’m not here to have a conversation with you,’ I say as clearly as I can manage.
‘Oh, you’re not, are you?’ He smiles, looking amused. ‘What are you here for, then?’
‘To tell you something.’
‘Go on.’ He shrugs, and it’s not fair that he is tied to a chair and I am standing above him with a knife at my hip, and he’s still the one who’s comfortable, still the one with the power.
‘I don’t know what we’re going to do with you,’ I tell him truthfully. ‘But I do know this: if you ever come near me or anyone I love again, I will kill you. Understand?’
‘Not really,’ he says, cocking his head to the side. ‘Because I thought I was someone you loved, and besides, I’ve never done anything to anyone you’ve loved.’
The words fall in the pit of my stomach, heavy in their truth. Because I didn’t love Bea, and for some reason that makes me feel guilty.
‘But I suppose who you’re really talking about is Kole, right?’ He smiles knowingly. ‘You forget that I know you. I can tell when you care about someone. Or maybe,’ he says, and now his smile isn’t knowing but something else entirely, something sharp and precise and cruel, ‘maybe you mean that little blonde thing I saw in the pit you seem to be living in. She looks awfully like—’
His words are cut off by my knife to his throat.
‘Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare.’ I’m breathing heavily, and I can hear my blood pumping in my ears as my vision blurs red.
‘What you always forget, Quincy,’ he says, infuriatingly calm, ‘is that we are all half angel, half devil. You can try to repress one side, but it’s always there, lurking somewhere under your skin.’ He is so close to me I can feel the warmth radiating off him, feel his breath against my cheek. ‘You can pretend you are the exception, or that Kole is, but you know deep down it’s not true. You can’t blame me for being the only one who accepts reality.’
‘I hope you rot in hell,’ I spit, and sheath my knife, abruptly pulling away from him and moving for the door.
‘There it is.’ He grins, sounding pleased.
I should just keep going. I should ignore him, but I can’t.
‘What?’
‘The devil in you was always my favourite part.’
I slam the door on my way out.
13
I go upstairs, as far from him as I can get without leaving the building. My skin crawls and I feel sick, feel the wrongness of him down to my bones. I knew he was manipulating me, watching me squirm as he poked me into a rage, and somehow I was still helpless against it.
He can still get under my skin, and it makes me feel weak.
‘Quincy.’ Ly appears out of nowhere, making me jump backwards, my hand automatically reaching for the knife at my hip.
‘Ly, you frightened me,’ I say, my voice dead.
‘Why the hell is the OP’s son downstairs?’ he demands, and I take a step away from him.
‘Ly, it’s complicated—’
‘You understand that he’s going to get us all killed, right?’
‘I’ll get him out before anything happens, Ly, I swear.’
‘No,’ he says, and he steps very close to me. ‘That’s not good enough. I want you both gone. NOW.’
‘I can’t—’
‘I WANT YOU OUT OF HERE,’ Ly screams into my face, half raging, half hysterical, just before someone pulls him away from me, flinging him across the room.
Kole presses Ly up against the far wall, his forearm pushed against Ly’s throat. He’s washed his face of any residual blood from his fight with Aaron, but there’s a bruise beginning to bloom across his nose, only serving as a reminder of what he’s capable of.
‘Kole!’ I call, but he can’t hear me.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he shouts into Ly’s face, and Ly tries to pull away, but Kole has him cornered.
‘She brought the OP’s son—’
‘We didn’t have a choice!’ Kole yells.
‘She knows him,’ Ly spits, wriggling against Kole’s hold. ‘They know each other. She’s a spy!’
‘Y
ou don’t know anything about her,’ Kole hisses, catching Ly’s jaw in his hand and forcing Ly to look straight at him. ‘And the next time you want to accuse her of being a traitor, you might want to remember who I am, and what I can do to you first.’
Kole throws Ly from him, turning away from him like he’s too disgusted to make eye contact.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks, facing me. His tone changes like the flip of a coin, but I can hear the anger somewhere muffled beneath his concern.
‘I’m fine,’ I say, shaking my head. My throat feels tight. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Quincy, you’re shaking.’ And I am, and he’s right, and suddenly his arms are around me, and he smells like the soap in the shower and he’s so warm, almost too warm.
But I’m not shaking because I’m scared.
I pull away, pushing him away, and he looks shocked, and I feel a flash of something like anger, but it’s brighter than anger, and hurts more.
‘I need to talk to you,’ I say quietly, trying to calm my breathing.
‘Okay, but—’
‘No,’ I say, and I reach out, yanking open the door to the stairs. ‘Now.’
14
I pull him into one of the empty bedrooms, slamming the door behind me.
‘Stop,’ he says, catching my arm. ‘Quincy, stop. What’s wrong?’
But I can’t. My heart is like a jackhammer in my chest, and it wasn’t until I saw him with Ly, the way he pushed him up against the wall, the way he sounded like he could snap his neck in a heartbeat, that I realised what was going on. And my mind starts piecing together a million little otherwise forgettable moments, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, and I’m on the other side of the room, pulling my hair away from my neck because I feel like the walls are closing in on top of me, like the world is suddenly small and tight and all around me.
‘Quincy, I said stop!’ He pulls me around to face him. ‘You need to calm down. You’re going to have a panic attack if you don’t calm down.’
I lean over, trying to catch my breath.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks after a minute of silence.
‘I’m fine.’
I try to take a steadying breath, but he lays a hand on my shoulder and it feels like he electrocuted me. I push away from him, my heart hammering.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, and now he sounds scared.
‘How did you know that was where the files you needed were going to be?’ I ask, my voice trembling.
‘Quincy …’
‘Just say it, Kole. Stop lying to me.’
‘I’ve never lied to you,’ he says gravely.
‘Haven’t you?’ I ask, turning on him. ‘Why do you know Aaron? How did you know how to disable the security system? What is going on with you, Kole?’
He looks at me, the muscle in his jaw ticking, and he looks like he’s fighting with himself.
‘Kole, tell me.’
‘I grew up in that house,’ he blurts.
I feel cold, I don’t want to know this, but I can’t afford not to know this.
‘And Aaron?’ My voice is unsteady, and I try to swallow the lump in my throat. ‘How do you know him?’
‘He’s my brother.’
I stumble backwards, and I can’t pull air into my lungs. I can’t cope with this. I can’t cope with all of this at once, but it was me who asked for these answers.
It was my brain that was already working this out.
‘I haven’t seen him in years, I swear,’ Kole breaks in, interrupting my thoughts. ‘I barely know him anymore.’
‘And Johnson?’ I croak.
‘My father,’ he whispers.
‘Why did you leave?’ I ask. Before this I assumed he left for the same reason everyone left, because Oasis was cruel and he couldn’t take it anymore. I assumed he’d left to save his life. But he’s from the Inside. The President’s son. What reason could he possibly have for escape? He would have lived like royalty, been untouchable, just like Aaron. So what does that leave?
‘Quincy.’ It sounds like a prayer, a supplication.
‘Why did you leave? I need to know.’
‘Why did you leave, Quincy? Everyone has a history, everyone left something—’
‘I left because they were going to kill me, Kole.’
He’s pale, and his hands are shaking at his sides and I am bursting at the seams, my blood racing in my veins.
‘I killed for them,’ he whispers, his voice thin and desperate. He looks like he’s going to throw up. ‘If they needed someone to stop being a problem, I took care of it. I gave them everything I had, Quincy, but I didn’t want to. You have to believe me—’ He comes towards me, but I’ve stopped listening to him, and I stumble backwards towards the door.
No.
No. No. No. No. No.
My vision blurs, tears burning down my face as I fumble for the handle, my hands shaking too badly to catch hold of it properly.
‘Quincy, please—’ He sounds awful, like a dying person, but I am the one being strangled. His words coil themselves around my throat and pull until I can’t breathe.
‘No, no, no, no, no.’
The door flies open, finally, and I run, barrelling through halls and up the stairs and out the door, my breath ripping through me as the sounds of his calls fade away, and I disappear into the filth and the cold of the Outer Sector, and nothing ever changes, it just puts on a different mask, and the only things I can count on are me and these rotting streets.
15
I find myself back on the scrap heap on the outside of town, my knees pulled up to my chest as I look out across the Celian City. The light seems dull now, after an hour of crying. I think, after a while, I stopped crying about Kole and started crying about something much bigger and more nebulous.
Like the fact that this is the world we live in, that these are the kinds of secrets we keep from each other. It seems stupid to me to cry about something like that, something so uselessly helpless as the state of a world I have no control over.
I rest my head on my knees now that the tears are gone, and my thoughts feel muffled and clear at the same time as I breathe in the familiar air of the Outer Sector.
When I hear someone scaling the scrap pile, I know who it is without looking back.
‘Hey,’ Jay says, sitting down beside me.
‘Hi,’ I murmur, shifting to make room for him. I wait to hear what he’s going to say, but he doesn’t say anything.
Minutes tick by, and he doesn’t say a word. I glance up at him, and he’s staring out across the Celian City, hands looped casually around his knees.
‘Just say it,’ I tell him, every muscle in my body tense for whatever it is he’s waiting to say.
‘Say what?’
‘Whatever it is you came out here to say.’
‘Honestly, I don’t know what I came out here to say.’ He shrugs, still staring out over the Wall.
For a few seconds I’m shocked into silence.
‘Are you sure you should be out here?’ he asks.
‘The Officers don’t pass here. And besides, I’m—,’ I glance at my shoulder, ‘6312 now. Quincy doesn’t exist anymore.’
He seems to think that’s good enough, because he doesn’t say anything else for a long time.
‘Where is he?’ I ask. I wish I didn’t have to. I wish the question wasn’t burning me up from the inside out, but it is.
‘To answer your real question, he’s pretty ripped up,’ Jay says coolly. ‘But he’s ripped up every time he sees a puppy get kicked, so I wouldn’t worry too much about it.’
A burst of laughter escapes me, and I slap my hand over my mouth to cover it, my eyes widening as Jay flashes me a grin.
‘I’ve known Kole for a really, really long time, and there are two things about him I know are true,’ he says, looking at me properly for the first time. ‘One, that he takes everything too seriously, and two, that he’s a good person.’
‘Ah,’ I respond
, nodding my head knowingly. ‘There it is.’
‘There what is?’
‘You trying to convince me. Do you know what he told me in there?’ I ask, my voice rising.
‘I know all of it,’ Jay says, and there’s something cold about him all of a sudden. ‘I knew about it while he worked for Oasis.’
I go very, very still.
‘Yeah, I did,’ he says, as if challenging me to say something. ‘And it killed him every moment he was doing it. But he thought he had to. He thought that he was protecting Oasis. And I guess he was.’
‘You’re not going to convince me he’s a good person. He killed people, Jay. For them.’
‘And he knew something was off,’ he says heatedly, turning his entire body to face me. ‘For a long time he knew what he was doing couldn’t be right, and he kept doing it, because he didn’t know anything else, he didn’t know anything but serving Oasis. But he is a good person, Quincy. He’s a lot better than most of us.’
‘Most of us didn’t murder people,’ I spit.
‘Are you trying to tell me that you don’t have things you regret?’ Jay asks, and his voice sounds caught between anger and sympathy. An image of Bea flashes up in my mind, and another, newer image. This one of Sophia, the girl whose family I stole with my own selfishness. ‘We all have things we regret. And no one regrets them more than Kole.’
I don’t say anything, my emotions rocketing between indignant anger and a niggling understanding that I don’t want to acknowledge.
‘What do you regret?’ I ask Jay.
‘A lot of things,’ Jay says, the muscle in his jaw jumping. ‘A lot of things.’
‘I got a girl killed,’ I tell him, and it feels like falling from a roof, like forgetting gravity for the sake of a single moment of relief.
‘Got a girl killed, or killed a girl?’ he asks, and he seems so unfazed, I actually have to look at him to make sure he’s serious.
‘Does it matter?’ I ask, looking back down at my hands.
‘Of course it matters.’
So I tell him. I tell him about being chosen as a Subject, I tell him about the fight at the power station, and how I was put into containment, how I was Branded. I even show him the brand on my shoulder, which isn’t painful anymore, but the raised scar tissue serves as a reminder of something I never want to think about again. I tell him about the escape plan, about enlisting Bea, and about the actual escape. I tell him about Aaron finding us, about him threatening Bea.