That’s where Jasmine should be. I know she’s okay because I would’ve felt it if anything really traumatic had happened to her. We’ll be reunited, which will make us stronger. The strange thing is, I don’t really feel anything about seeing her again. No real happiness. Just a flat nothingness.
As I walk along various side streets to stay as far under the radar as possible, I’m shocked by just how brown and dry everything is here in London. Maybe I shouldn’t be all that surprised, seeing as the whole world is basically drying up. Even when torrential storms occur, all the water just floods and causes landslides and stuff like that, because the ground is too dry to properly absorb the heavy rains. But before I disappeared, England had still been a pretty green country, just like most of Canada was. In fact, I think they only started to experience bad droughts after we did. I’d have to ask Jasmine to be sure, because I was in the Place-in-Between when climate change really sped up.
A frantic buzzing reaches my ears. I look across the street. There’s a drone moving up and down like crazy in front of the upstairs window of a red-brick house. Obviously something interesting is happening up there, but I can’t risk looking overtly curious or staring long enough to find out what.
Instead, I begin to walk faster and turn my head in the opposite direction, hoping that the drone is solo. The last thing I need is to do battle with some robotic insect that could put my life in danger by identifying me to the police.
Two identical gunmetal-grey vans with metals bars as thick as a bodybuilder’s arms over the windows slide around the corner a few blocks ahead of me. My heart jumps into my throat. They definitely look official: these are police vans or some sort of military van.
Either way, the threat to me just skyrocketed. I jump behind a low brick fence that separates the sidewalk from the garden of the house behind it just as two police cars roll up behind the vans. None of the vehicles have their flashing lights on, nor are they using their sirens. But they are travelling fast.
My heart thrums violently in my chest, making me feel somewhat lightheaded and dizzy. I press myself as close to the fence as I can and then slowly peek around the corner at the break where a metal gate is set in the fence.
Police officers in riot gear, shields over their faces and military-style weapons in hand, climb out of the vehicles with the quiet stealth of jungle cats stalking their prey. Something’s definitely up. They seem to know exactly who or what they’re looking for, which is good, because that means it’s not me.
They’re heading toward the house where I saw the hovering drone. It’s gone now. The officers pour through the front gate and up the front garden, half of them moving toward the back of the house while the rest stay at the front, weapons drawn and ready.
Who or what is behind that window?
I wish I could get a clear look at what’s happening, but I’ll need to settle for this small sliver of a view if I want to keep safe and as out of sight as possible.
There’s a loud bang as the front door is kicked open. All the officers except for two that continue to stand guard at the door disappear inside, their loud, adrenaline-fuelled shouts filling the air.
Sweat rolls down my forehead and into my eyes, making them sting. I wipe at them with the back of my hand. A wasp buzzes uncomfortably close to my face. It’s annoying, but I can’t take the chance of trying to shoo it away. That much movement might alert any drones in the vicinity. I’m pretty surprised to even see a wasp, because there aren’t many insects around anymore other than flies and cockroaches. The decline in insects began before I was abducted; I remember doing a project on an endangered insect of our choice. I chose the monarch butterfly. My first summer back from the Place-in-Between, Jasmine told me they were now completely extinct.
More shouts. The officers are emerging from the house again. It’s clear that the ones at the front of the pack are shielding the others from sight. And it doesn’t take long to see why.
There are two girls in total. Each one is being restrained by at least two officers. They’re handcuffed, but still struggling wildly. One of the officers follows behind, clutching a crimson-stained cloth against his injured skull.
I hold my breath, trying to get a better look. It takes a second, due to the girls’ thrashing, but my hunch is right. Identical twins that can barely be restrained by armed police officers — officers who are likely part of an anti-terrorism squad.
They’re Seers.
And, for some reason, they are also very much wanted by the UK police.
JASMINE
I swipe the fob over the sensor beside the front door of the flat. As soon as the green light flashes, Sara twists the knob and hurries inside.
“Susie?” she cries out, walking through the hall toward the flight of stairs in front of us. “Susie? Are you here?” Anxiety is ripe in her voice. I’ve never seen Sara so unsure and scared.
Lily and I climb the stairs behind her. On the second floor of the flat, the space opens into a kitchen with a living room area attached. From two sofas in the living area, several people turn in unison to greet us as we walk in.
Susie leaps up from the sofa, runs toward Sara, and throws her arms around her sister’s thick neck.
“Thank bloody god,” she says, a wide smile of relief spreading across her face. “We were so worried about all of you when we saw those creatures climbing onto the car.”
“Zombies,” I mutter. “They were zombies.” I’m not even sure why I’ve said the word. It’s not really the time or place.
“Yeah, so I was told,” says a weak voice from the sofa. “One nearly had me for dinner.”
“Cassandra!” Lily cries out as she rushes over to her sister.
I follow behind her. Cassandra’s lying across half of one of the sofas, her head propped up on a fuzzy, faux-fur pillow, her ebony hair fanned out around her like a halo. She’s pale and hooked up to a machine that’s monitoring her and feeding fluids into her arm via a tube. A slim older woman whose face is deeply lined sits beside her. The blanket covering Cassandra’s lower half shifts as she hugs Lily, and the woman gently re-drapes it over Cassandra’s legs.
“Careful,” she says as Lily sits down on the edge of the sofa, clasping her sister’s hand. I think back to the moment Jade and I were reunited in the Place-in-Between. I know all too well that feeling of not wanting to let go. The woman smiles at me. “I’m Sadie, Cassandra’s nurse.”
“Hey,” I say, plastering a smile across my face, not wanting to let on how concerned I am about Cassandra’s injuries. I turn my attention to Cassandra. “How are you?”
She arches an eyebrow at me. The dark circles around her eyes are so deep, it looks as though her eyes could sink to the very back of her skull. “Girl, I was gnawed on like a chicken leg by that thing. How do you think I am? I’ve had a chunk of stem cells and extracellular matrix put into my right upper arm and I’m stitched up like Frankenstein.” She rolls her eyes and purses her lips in a pouty smile. “But other than that, I’m spectacular.” She glances at Sadie. “I have been told I’m healing fairly fast, so glass half-full, right?”
I laugh. “Jesus, I guess you’re competing for my smartass title. It is so good to see you. I was really worried.” Leaning over, I give her a quick hug, which ends up being awkward with Lily in the way. All three of us end up giggling uncontrollably — not only with relief, but also exhaustion.
“We may have only a night here, if that, so don’t get too comfortable,” says a raspy, but deeply melodic voice from behind us. It sounds like a bass guitar that’s seen one too many gigs in a smoky bar. I swivel around. “And your sister isn’t staying long. Sadie needs to take her to a safer spot, if there is such a thing. She’s stubborn, though, and insisted on seeing you, Lily.”
Cassandra shoots Clarence a quick thumbs-up as he stops talking and turns to face us. He’s standing at the bottom of a staircase at the other end of the living room. His chocolate-brown eyes are dark with worry. “There are raids taking pl
ace all over the city right now. And Vashti’s car was stopped before she made it to the Thames.”
There’s an audible intake of breath from everyone in the room. “They’ll torture her,” Dani says, her voice breaking. “What if she cracks and ends up telling them about us? About where we are?”
Clarence shakes his head. “No, they won’t, she won’t, and you need to keep your emotions down. All of you need to do that,” he says, wagging a finger that’s been distorted by arthritis as his gaze sweeps across the room. His eyes, which are more yellow than white, with whispery threads of red capillaries throughout, make me wonder just how old he actually is. “Strong emotions will lure the demons to us.”
“Come on, mate,” Kiki says. “We’ve all heard the horror stories about the anti-terrorism squads and what they do to prisoners … especially prisoners of colour, yeah?”
“Precisely,” Clarence says, clearing his throat. “Which is why Vashti was not unprepared.”
“What does that mean?” Susie asks.
“Cyanide,” he replies, his voice devoid of emotion. I can feel his sadness, though. It comes at me in waves. He was in love with Vashti. “One tablet under the tongue as soon as she knew there was no other choice.”
“Eff me,” Sara says, her voice barely a whisper. “This is getting to be a bit too much.”
Clarence shuffles over closer to us and slowly lowers himself into a worn leather chair, his body shaking like an earthquake. He definitely seems a lot older than when we first met him at the Trafalgar. I guess I wasn’t being very observant at that time — I need to watch out for that. It’s dangerous not to be attentive to small details.
He folds his hands together, knuckles up, and rests his chin on them. I notice he shakes almost constantly, though the movement is less noticeable than when he was trying to sit.
“Things are not going to get any bloody better, and you must get used to that fact. We’re heading to battle. I don’t know quite as much about it as my younger brother does, but I do know that this is just the tip of the iceberg. Because tonight we must watch the terrible events that are taking place in Toronto.”
“Are you sure it’s happening?” Lily asks. “Eva wasn’t even given a fair trial.”
Clarence shakes his head, his eyes full of sorrow. He looks a lot like one of those bloodhound dogs, the ones that look eternally sad with their big, droopy, red-ringed eyes.
“When I said things are not going to get better, I wasn’t messing about,” he says, sighing deeply. “As Vashti told you, Beaconsfield was raided. And I haven’t heard from my brother in the past few days, as he had to go into hiding and cease all communication. All of that aside, nearly every country has done away with the right to a fair trial — or any trial, for that matter — when it comes to matters of national security or terrorism. Thus it was highly unlikely Eva would get a trial at all, and even if she did, I guarantee you it wouldn’t have been fair. That’s why climate change refugees can be imprisoned indefinitely just for trying to escape countries that are imploding. Human rights are a farce in our contemporary world.” He pauses for a moment. “After the water was poisoned in Toronto, we knew things would worsen, that the government there would want to make an example of anyone they could pin some blame on. Just like the American government did after the Los Angeles fires. Eva is the only one of you they’ve got. And, as such, they will use her to send a very clear message to all of you, to all of us defending the right of human beings to have access to adequate resources, to anyone questioning the moral legitimacy of borders and these leaders’ absolute power.”
“Can’t anyone stop it? The execution, I mean? Can’t the CCT create a diversion to buy Eva time?” My words tumble out so quickly they nearly fall over each other. We can’t have anyone else die.
Clarence shakes his head. “There are so many things we can’t control, Jasmine. For decades the CCT tried to influence environmental policy, to prevent politicians and the elite — which are often one and the same — from taking us over the tipping point with climate change. That didn’t work. We can’t change the destruction that is already wrought. Sometimes we have to accept the unacceptable.”
I watch his hands tremble as he speaks. And all I can think about is how Raphael isn’t here. The fact that he leaves every time things get bad makes me wonder if he’s actually on our side at all. Maybe, like Jade said, he’s one of the people I shouldn’t fully trust.
JADE
After the close call with the drone and the London anti-terrorism squad, I’m even more cautious. This means it takes me nearly twice the estimated time to reach the safe house. I sit for a moment across the street behind a large tree and watch the house. It’s large and imposing. According to Seth, Jasmine and the others are in the top flat, and they’re with some people I need to keep my guard up around.
My stomach does another of its high-diving somersault motions, and I double over and dry heave onto the dusty grass beneath me. I’ve gone so long with no food and such little water, nothing comes up. My throat burns as though acid’s been poured down it.
Taking a deep breath, I stand up and get ready to go in. I feel like shit; I’m dehydrated and exhausted, not to mention the fact that the smell of the creature I killed still lingers on my shoe and my jeans. Not the best first impression to make with the new Seers, or anyone else.
I look both ways along the street and then up in the sky for possible drones before dashing across and quickly ringing the bell.
No answer. I ring again, leaving my finger on the bell pad a few moments longer than necessary. Beads of sweat begin to trickle down the back of my neck. The street is still empty, but I know it won’t remain that way for long.
I should’ve been prepared for this. No one in that apartment is going to answer unless they’re expecting someone. That would be far too dangerous.
Panic begins to rise in me. What now? Why didn’t Seth think of this?
And that’s when my stomach begins to turn. This time it’s different, though. The movement feels completely independent of me. It’s slower. There’s no nausea. Instead, a surge of energy rushes through me. I feel stronger, composed, and extremely sure of myself. Well, not of myself, exactly. More of something within me. If that makes sense at all.
Which it really doesn’t, not even to me.
I turn my gaze on the door sensor and stare hard at it. This strange, slow burn starts to fill my abdomen, and suddenly the ring in my pocket shudders like it’s hypothermic.
My eyes are no longer mine … someone or something else has stepped behind them. I’m looking from far away even though I’m in my own head.
The sensor begins to waver beneath my gaze like water.
My gaze? Our gaze? Its gaze?
Images come tumbling forward at me: skeletal children dying in the rubble of bombed-out buildings while warplanes scream above; pedestrians being mown down like bowling pins by massive transport trucks and vans; and groups of scared men, women, and children piling into rickety rafts and sailing out into shark-infested oceans in the middle of the night.
I’ve seen this before. I saw these images when Seth touched me at Corktown Common …
The sensor keeps morphing and changing. It’s got a mouth now. I think it’s a mouth. And it’s laughing. And it’s expanding. Toward me. And there are teeth. Large, carnivorous teeth. Screams fill my head, so loud, I feel like my skull might shatter.
I fall to the ground, my head hitting the concrete like a ripe melon.
Darkness consumes me.
JASMINE
“Jasmine?”
I bolt upright, sweat rolling down my face, my shirt drenched.
Though it’s hot in the flat, that’s not the main reason for my perspiration. I’ve just been awoken from a horrible nightmare about Jade … but every second I’m awake, the memory of the dream slides away from me with the speed of a snake on steroids.
Lily is standing at the side of the bed.
“How long have I be
en asleep?” I ask, stifling a yawn. My mouth is sticky from dehydration. After our talk, Clarence made us all get some sleep. He wants us to be well-rested so we can better endure watching the execution and any news out of Toronto that may accompany it. As well, he wants us to be ready — physically and mentally — if we need to make a quick escape from here, a possibility he believes to be highly likely.
“Two hours or so,” Lily answers, her face scrunching up with concern. “Jasmine … Jade’s here. She’s downstairs with Clarence and Cassandra.”
My heart skips beat. “What?” I ask, jumping out of the bed and grabbing my clothes off the floor. If this is a dream, I don’t want it to end. Jade’s here. We’ll be safer together.
I look over at Lily. She seems troubled.
“I stayed downstairs to be with Cassandra. I was sleeping on the couch when Jade came in, and …” Lily pauses, biting nervously at her bottom lip.
“And what?” I ask, pulling on my jeans and twisting my hair into a loose ponytail. The under layer of my hair is heavy with moisture. It feels good to have air on my neck.
“That’s just it. She just … came in,” Lily says, moving closer to me. She’s whispering now. “The bell rang once or twice, but of course we didn’t answer it or ask who it was over the intercom. I think Clarence was hoping it was just someone buzzing the wrong apartment number.” She pauses again and looks over her shoulder toward the door, as though she’s afraid Jade might be standing there.
“What do you mean she just came in? C’mon, that’s impossible. She’d have to get through the front door, and then also into the flat.”
Lily nods. “That’s what I’m talking about. She said both were just open, or unlocked. Something like that.”
My blood runs cold. “No, they weren’t,” I say. Now I’m also whispering. “You know they weren’t. And I was the last one to enter the flat. I closed the door behind us. It locked automatically.”
“I think we should get back down there,” Lily says. She thinks that Jade might harm Cassandra.
Darkness Rising Page 15
