“There’s technology that can wipe out actual memories and replace them with fictional ones?” I ask.
“Yes,” Vashti nods. “Corrupt governments are privy to many technologies, including life-saving ones, but keep them from the general public.”
“And our parents?” Lily interjects. “Can we contact them from here? Will our video watches work?”
Vashti shakes her head. “They work, but you mustn’t use them. Your signal will be immediately identified.”
“I already used mine,” Cassandra says. “On our way here. Just before we got here, actually.”
Vashti’s eyes widen. “Turn if off immediately and give it to me,” she says, holding out a shaky hand. “You are wanted internationally. Furthermore, your parents, and your mother, Jasmine, are now also at grave risk. Eva’s being captured and interrogated resulted in Beaconsfield being revealed. Anyone associated with the school in any way is now being treated as a terror suspect. The school is currently on lockdown, with no one allowed to enter or leave. Basically, it’s been turned into a holding cell, a prisoner-of-war camp of sorts. And, unfortunately, that is all we can glean for now. Neither we, nor any member of the CCT, can risk making contact with Mr. Khan or anyone else at Beaconsfield now.”
My stomach plummets. “I’ve been to one of Smith’s ‘camps.’ It was for climate change refugees who’d tried to enter Canada. It was a nightmare. I actually wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” The image of Penelope, a young girl I’d met in the camp who was later executed by Smith’s demonic guards, flashes through my mind. I think about Mr. Khan, Ms. Samson, and the others and wonder what conditions they’re having to exist under at the moment. One thing I know for sure is that Smith will stop at nothing to protect her power and her ego.
“What’s going to happen to Eva?” Lily asks. “I mean, it can’t be good that they’ve got her on camera killing police officers. And, by the way, are there demons here?”
“To answer your second question, yes, there are demons here. After all, London is the epicentre, the beginning of time and the place where all the layers of being converge. As for Eva … she’s scheduled to be executed alongside Moore. It’s now a two-for-one,” Vashti says grimly. She glances at a clock on the wall. “We’ll need to leave sooner than anticipated. Clarence will have the video watch taken far from here and destroyed, but we’ve likely been tracked already. Now that there is no safe place for us in London, we’re going to have to keep moving all of you — as well as all of our Seers — nearly every night.”
“How many Seers are there here? Are they all in London?” Cassandra asks.
Vashti slowly gets to her feet. “There are eight Seers with us at the moment. We tried to gather as many as possible between here and in Toronto. It seemed safest to do so in large, diverse cities. A few perished in Northern Africa and South Asia due to the rapid closing of so many borders, including ours. The political and economic sanctions resulting from climate warming came about much more quickly than anyone could’ve anticipated — as did the acceleration of planetary changes. That also meant that some of the last Seers we tried to gather ended up in government-run climate change refugee camps where they are treated as chattel. Eva was one of them. We have them here as well — the camps. Nothing new, really. Except now, there is no deportation and also no chance of admittance to the UK. These poor souls languish without hope until their death. Many end up taking their own lives, including children.”
I shudder, thinking it sounds a bit like the Place-in-Between. Our own version of lost souls.
“Smith’s climate change refugee camps were completely evil,” I say. It’s obvious that Vashti knows about the demons because she didn’t bat an eye when Lily asked about them being in the Final Battle. “The guards were demonic. I guess she was using the ring to control them. Giving them orders ahead of time, so there wasn’t a mass slaughter of the prisoners …” Penelope comes slamming back into my memory again, her tiny white wrist extended to me, the tan-coloured Band-Aid making her pale skin all the more dramatic. “She also made the prisoners, including children, give blood every few days. I guess it was another way to ensure the demons stayed fed and happy.” I grimace and stop talking, feeling the cookies I’ve just eaten turn uneasily in my stomach.
Vashti grips the side of her chair so tightly, her knuckles pale. “You will discover, Jasmine, that there is no such thing as pure evil, nor pure good. Those states are fluid. Never fall into the trap of believing otherwise. It is a gravely dangerous fiction. Evil deeds can be done by people you’d never expect. Desperation can breed extreme behaviours. By the same token, very ordinary folk can be supremely heroic under duress.” She looks around at us. “Now we must go.”
JADE
“What the hell?” Amara whispers as we crouch down behind a row of recycling bins off to the side at the very back of the school’s athletics ground.
We’ve made it to Beaconsfield in pretty good time, considering we mainly used alleyways and quieter streets to get here. We also tried to keep to backyards as much as possible to avoid being seen. Not the easiest way to get to the school, but definitely the safest.
I stare in disbelief at the spectacle in front of us. Multiple police cars, including RCMP and one armoured tank, surround the building. Dozens of heavily armed men and women can be seen. Some appear to be standing guard while others move in and out of the school carrying various computers and boxes. News reporters swarm like bees, and about a dozen drones buzz around the scene. We need to be careful — they might be equipped with heat-sensing detectors. Luckily, no human or drone is patrolling too close to where we are. Yet.
“So this is why Mr. Khan didn’t want us to contact him,” I say, sitting back on my haunches. “This is terrible. Do you think they’re holding everyone in there?”
Amara shrugs. “They probably took over the place during school hours. That only makes sense. So, yeah. I’ll bet no one’s going to be allowed in or out until they’re cleared of being suspected terrorists. Maybe some of the regular students were let out. But school staff and Seers? No way.”
I nod. “No wonder my watch was tracked so fast.”
“Yep. We’re definitely public enemy number one,” Amara murmurs, her dark eyes fixed on the armed guards. “Those are pretty massive semi-automatics they’ve got.”
“Do you think there’s any way we could get in there?” I ask. My mind is racing with loads of scenarios of what might be happening to Mr. Khan, Ms. Samson, Jennifer, and everyone else.
“Seriously?” Amara says with a derisive snort. “I know you can’t get hurt by demons with that ring on you, but unless you’re bulletproof as well, there’s no way you can safely get anywhere near there. And I’m sure as hell not —”
“She’s right,” a voice says from directly behind us. I nearly jump out of my skin as Amara swivels around, fists raised and ready in front of her face.
It’s Mr. Khan. He’s crouched down behind the line of scrubby brush about ten feet behind us and motioning us over to him. We move toward him, hunched over and crab-like. Every move feels like such a risk.
My first instinct is to throw my arms around him, but the stormy look he gives me as we scuttle up beside him makes me pause.
“What in god’s name are you doing here?” he asks. Dark circles ring his eyes. He looks nearly a decade older than the last time I saw him. “I specifically told you to transition to London, reunite with Jasmine and the others, and put Solomon’s Ring back in the bloody Roman wall.” He regards me as if I’m a wriggling specimen in a science lab. Ever so gently, I try to reach into his thoughts. It’s always a strange feeling, a bit like peeling back the skin of an orange to get to the juicy bits inside.
“Don’t even try it, Jade,” he snaps.
I look up and raise an eyebrow at him, but say nothing. My stomach begins to cramp uneasily again.
“What’s going on?” Amara breaks in, leaning forward with the palms of her h
ands on the ground to take some pressure off the balls of her feet as she crouches beside us. “How come you’re not in the school? How did you escape what’s going down over there?”
“The raid began just after first period this morning,” he says, his voice heavy with sadness. “I just happened to have a spare from teaching and stepped out to get a cup of chicory from the cafe down the street. They didn’t use their sirens on the approach, and I was only about half a block away when the armed police began spilling out of unmarked vans. It was easy at that point to figure out what was happening. We’d only learned about the video of Eva and the news of her arrest a few minutes before, from Frederick.” He stops speaking and grimaces. “I assume he didn’t know about the impending raid because he told us he didn’t think there was any reason for us to go into emergency mode. After all, Eva was new. We hadn’t formally registered her at the school, as her identification profile would have linked her with the refugee camp. Unfortunately, as we discovered, Frederick is not always privy to Smith’s operational plans beforehand.”
“Yeah, we heard about everything that happened with Eva from a woman on the subway when we first transitioned back,” I say. An image of Mary walking toward the officers, knowing it was suicide, flashes through my mind. I swallow hard to prevent tears from forming in my eyes. “And that’s how we found out that we’re wanted in connection with the water poisoning.”
Mr. Khan nods. “The video of her killing two officers in the subway is all over the news. It was playing at the cafe when I was getting my chicory. It seems Smith’s invoked the new Anti-Terrorism Act to decline Eva a trial due to it all being caught on video.” He shakes his head. “They’re planning to execute her at the same time as Moore … tomorrow evening.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath from Amara. “That’s terrible. Eva totally sacrificed herself for us. We’d all be dead if she hadn’t stayed behind and dealt with those officers when we transitioned.” She pauses. “By the way, isn’t it dangerous for you to be around the school? Shouldn’t you be getting as far away from here as possible?”
“I figure that’s exactly what Smith’s little army will be expecting me to do — to try to get away from here. My apartment has likely already been torn apart for clues as to my whereabouts, and my little dog, Reggie, shot or worse …” Mr. Khan stops speaking, his eyes clouding over with tears. “I’m not sure when our governments changed from at least pretending to protect our rights and liberties and our lives from terrorists to terrorizing their own people as a means of social control. I suppose the two of you are too young to remember anything but this.”
“So Ms. Samson and everyone else are still in there?” I ask.
Mr. Khan nods. “I assume so. I’d imagine everyone is being taken into custody. There’s no way I can contact them now, but I’ve been out here for the better part of the day, and I haven’t seen anyone — neither students nor staff — be released.”
Amara grimaces. “What are you going to do for tonight? I mean, if you can’t go back to your place …”
Mr. Khan shrugs. “I guess just see how things unfold here. To tell you the truth, I haven’t thought that far in advance. I mean, we obviously had an emergency plan and protocol in place in case something like this ever happened at Beaconsfield. Despite Jasmine being on Smith’s advisory committee, we knew we were walking a tightrope as far as security was concerned. I just wish …” His voice trails off, his gaze wandering back to the scene outside the school. “But perhaps there isn’t a way to protect oneself from a government like this,” he says with a heavy sigh.
“We’ve got to get them out,” I say. “They haven’t done anything, and neither have we. I mean, Eva did, but that was in self-defence …” I stop, my stomach rumbling again as I remember the TTC guard from this morning.
Mr. Khan shakes his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. You’re beginning to sound like your sister, which is worrying. Actually, there’s a lot about you that is worrying me, but I’ll leave that for now. Both of you must get to London. Ideally, you’ll end up in contemporary London to reunite with the others and get the ring back to its proper place. But if not, you must at least get to the Place-in-Between to return it. And then we’ll need to figure out how to get you to the others. You and Jasmine must be together for the Final Battle.”
“Then you need to come with us,” I say. “You’re our Protector after all, and it’s not going to be safe for you anywhere in Toronto. With the way the city’s borders are patrolled, there’s no way you’d get out, even if you had somewhere to go.”
Mr. Khan wipes at the sweat on his forehead as he stares at the school. “No regular human has ever ventured to the Place-in-Between,” he finally says. “All of you’ve been there and survived, but …”
“But you were a Seer. Once a Seer, always a Seer, right?” I say, hopefully.
“Our abilities seem to end once we become young women … or men, as the case may be,” Mr. Khan says with a rueful smile. “That is why it is important for us Protectors to train the next generation of Seers, and to keep an eye on them as they approach puberty. Sadly, you may be the last group of Seers, and thus, may never become Protectors.”
You will not likely survive to become Protectors, is what Mr. Khan’s really thinking. I smile at him. He’s let his guard down. He frowns back at me.
“But you’ll be a dead man walking if you don’t come with us,” Amara says through gritted teeth as she watches the school. “So you might as well try. Plus, I’ve got a plan that might buy us some time. We’ll also be able to get some food and water in us, if it works.”
Mr. Khan sits back on the dried grass, his black hair glistening as the sun hits it. “You’re quite right. I’m likely just as wanted as you two are, considering my ties to Smith’s government, Jasmine, and Beaconsfield,” he says with a nod toward the school. “And as Jasmine’s Protector, it is my duty to see her as far as I can into the Final Battle.” He pauses. “It will also allow me to ensure the ring is put back in the Roman wall once and for all.”
“Are you in?” Amara says, a wide smile spreading across her cheeks.
“I’m in,” Mr. Khan replies.
JASMINE
Vashti pulls her shawl over her head so that it acts like a hood and motions us to follow her out the door of the Trafalgar. The sun is just slipping from the sky, making our shadows stretch out in front of us like dark, faceless giants.
“We must hurry,” she says, leading us down an alleyway directly behind the pub. The cobblestoned ground is slightly uneven, and I worry about Vashti losing her footing.
There’s another pub just ahead with several patrons sitting at a table and on the low windowsills out front. Panic rises in me at the thought of being recognized, and I take deep breaths as we walk by to try to push down the feeling. We’re not even given a second look. It seems Londoners are still enjoying life, despite the terrorism and madness happening around them and in the rest of the world.
“There’s a car waiting for us on the Old Woolwich Road,” Vashti whispers. “It’s driverless, so we’re safe. And it will take us to the current location of our Seers.”
“Is it still in Greenwich?” Lily asks, somewhat breathlessly.
Vashti shakes her head. “No, in a different borough. But at this point in time, I feel it’s prudent not to tell you the location yet. Give the other girls a chance to get to know you and trust you first.”
We turn a corner onto another side street, and Vashti motions for us to stay standing in front of one of the brown-brick row houses that line the street. The sky is now a dusky ink colour, and the streetlamps flicker on. It’s strange. Though it’s 2032, I’ve been to this city before and can still see the remnants of the past. It’s as though there are layers upon layers to London, shadows upon shadows. Which makes sense. Maybe the Place-in-Between is sort of like that. Maybe it truly is the shadow, the dark side, of the real London. If that’s the case, what does it mean if the membrane, the dividing li
ne between contemporary London and the Place-in-Between has thinned so much that it’s practically no longer there?
“Do you hear that?” Cassandra whispers as Vashti disappears around a corner at the top of the street. The street that runs perpendicular to the one we’re on is busy with cars and buses whizzing past, their headlights briefly illuminating the road ahead. The rumble of traffic makes it hard to hear anything.
I shake my head. “No, what?”
We wait a few moments. All I hear is the whoosh of cars and electric buses.
“There is it again,” Cassandra says.
This time I hear it. A slow dragging sound. As if someone is shuffling along pavement or dragging something heavy. It seems to be coming from somewhere to the left of us and near the side of the house we’re standing in front of. It’s impossible to see anything, as a high stone wall with an equally high wooden gate in the middle of it separates us from the sound.
“What do you think it is?” Lily asks, moving closer to her sister.
“No idea. It sounds like it’s coming from the side of the house, though,” Cassandra replies.
I laugh nervously. “It’s probably just an injured raccoon or fox or something.”
We hear it again, and the sound cuts my laughter short. That’s because it’s a lot closer now. Close enough that I find myself glancing around for something that can be used as a pole. Because whatever it is, it sounds considerably bigger than a raccoon or fox.
I scan the road ahead where Vashti went, hoping to spot her. What’s she doing? Has she abandoned us? Don’t be stupid, I think. Protectors don’t abandon Seers. But then, I never thought my sister would take Solomon’s Ring right after I put it back in the Roman wall, so maybe I’m not the best predictor of people’s behaviour.
Darkness Rising Page 6
