Rise

by Victoria Powell

  “Rhianna, that’s enough,” Sophia chided.

  “Mama, she needs to see the truth, or she’ll end up dead,” Rhianna snapped.

  “I said, enough!” Sophia flicked up her hand, calling for calm.

  Nina said, “It’s not my fault I was born into this family.”

  “Hush child.”

  Nina shouted suddenly. “Ha! Child labour, is it? That’s illegal.”

  The door to the restaurant peeked open and Della, Nina’s mother, came in. “Nina, keep it down.”

  Nina hugged onto her mother’s arm. “Mam, will you let me go to the Palisade to see the Ambassador?”

  “Nina, I said no,” her grandmother said.

  “Mam,” Nina urged, “I really have to go. History will be made and I’ll miss it.”

  Della looked about the room, then said, “It’s not a good time, Nina.”

  “And I said no,” Sophia repeated.

  Della scowled at her mother. “Mama, that’s not helping.”

  “She’s under my roof; she’ll do as I tell her,” Sophia said.

  “Will someone please take this soup to table six?” Rhianna asked.

  “No way,” Nina put her head down on the table briefly.

  “Nina!” Sophia’s voice was laced with warning.

  “Nope,” Nina chimed.

  There was an icy pause.

  Della unfolded her arms and picked up the bowls. “For goodness sake.”

  “Dellarina! Put down those bowls,” Sophia demanded.

  “Mama,” Della said, stepping towards the door. “Customers come first. Your paperwork will have to wait. You can man the greeting desk and I will wait on tables for a couple of hours.”

  “Della!” Rhianna moaned.

  “Della do not let her go. I don’t want her listening to that man. The Ambassador is dangerous!”

  Nina hugged her mother tightly, nearly spilling the soup. “Thank you so much!”

  “Nina, don’t you ever do this again,” Della groaned.

  Nina ran out of the door, briefly hearing her grandmother cursing, “Della, you never had any staying power with that girl. She’s completely ruined.”

  Nina threw her coat on, pushed past potential customers and was running along the cobbled street before the kitchen door shut.

  The pedestrianised throughfare lined with yellow brick four-storey terraces funnelled the cacophony of the crowd in the Palisade. Nina was pulled towards the noise like a fish on a line. The sounds were exhilarating and terrifying and aberrant to her. She ran towards the noise, fearing she had left it too late.

  Nina paused impatiently at a four-lane carriageway. She smiled sarcastically for the camera on a passing bus and saw the little flash of light as it scanned over her face. The traffic broke and she dashed across, pausing momentarily on the central reservation before cutting to the far side. Ahead of her a queue of people bustled on the edge of the overflowing Palisade. There was no chance of seeing the Ambassador in that crush.

  Veering down a side alley, Nina twisted and turned through the backstreets towards the far north corner of the square. She knew these streets well. This alley would come out near where her friend’s block of flats faced onto the square. The tarmac was covered in detritus that rats and cats had scattered from the bin bags in the streets. Tomorrow the bin men would come with their street sweepers and only leave behind the putrid smell.

  Hurtling over rolled up carpet and ripped up tyres, Nina twisted into the final street and felt the floor vibrating from the road just beyond the line of flats. She looked back towards the main entrance of the square. A car was parked part way along the alley and the rubbish had been moved against a wall to allow access. Ignoring the oddity, she turned right and ran towards her friend’s gate, but froze when a shadow moved.

  “Craig?” She let out a breath of relief when she recognised the street vendor.

  The lad walked out into the light. “Is that Nina? What are you doing in the alleys?”

  Raising an eyebrow, she looked the seventeen-year-old burly boy up and down. “Me? Shouldn’t you be in the Palisade selling stuff? It’s heaving in there!”

  He shook his head. “Never when the Ambassador is there. Things get really nasty and… well, I stay away until it clears.” He beckoned her back out of the light. “Please, we can’t be seen here.”

  “Craig, it’s Ok.” She pushed past him and continued towards the far gate. “I’m not staying in the alley. There’s a place just between the two end flats where we can see through into the Palisade. I’m going to watch the Ambassador speaking.”

  Craig rushed after her. “They’ll shoot you if they think you’re spying! They’ll think you’re an activist.”

  She pushed the gate open and entered a small yard. “Craig, calm down,” she whispered. “We won’t get too close. I just need to see him.” She took his hand and tiptoed closer to the wall of noise seeping through a narrow gap between the buildings.

  Staying in the shadows, Nina peeked into the maelstrom in the centre of the familiar, but alien, space. Never had she seen so many people in the Palisade. Areas were fenced off with crowd control barriers. Police were everywhere, holding shock rifles and riot shields. A stage was erected to the right, giving a clear view of the speaker over the heads of the crowd.

  There he was, standing above the rabble in his shining glory. He wore an amazing wooden mask covered in silver and gold filigree swirls. The mask was offset by the carbonised suit that twinkled in the sunlight. A legion of police surrounded him, holding back the crowd. The people rippled in waves to the sound of his voice. Nina let it flow over her, not hearing but feeling the words run through her body. This was it; the Ambassador was announcing something big.

  As she adjusted to the noise she picked up flutters of his voice. Her spine tingled whenever she recognised those rich baritone notes. The Ambassador was announcing some sort of aggressive drive against the remaining factions in the city. It was not the news Nina had hoped for, but it was still an amazing show of power.

  Craig squeezed her hand. “We should go.”

  She scowled at him and pulled away. “We just got here.” She pointed towards the square. “I’m listening to what he’s saying. He’s going to make the city better.”

  Craig stepped back from the gate. “Miss, just listen.”

  “I’m trying to,” she said.

  “No, listen to the crowd!” He whispered.

  Confused, Nina turned back to the square and listened. Yes, a lot of people were cheering and waving their arms, but there was something else there too. The noise was organic, both ecstatic and demonic. Spikes of bitter and twisted anger pulsed at the edges of the square. Then she saw it, the random surges of movement from the pockets of aberrant sound. There were protesters here.

  Everything happened too quickly. The police poured from around the Ambassador and ripped open a corridor through the crowd. The Ambassador was leaving. More police pierced the crowd in the direction of the protesters. Panicking, the crowd split and tore towards the nearest exits.

  Nina staggered back into the empty yard. Craig was gone and the gate was ajar. Feeling suddenly exposed, Nina ran to the gate and cautiously peeked through the gap. Car doors opened and men were shouting. Craig staggered as a man grabbed him around the collar, shaking him. Their voices were muffled, but Nina understood their meaning.

  Three men scanned the length of the alley. Nina froze, hidden behind the gate. One heavy-built man got into the car and started the engine. A man in his fifties leant over the back door, watching as his thug’s fist thudded into Craig’s stomach. The thug pulled a gun out and looked back to the car for direction. The guy leaning on the car muttered his orders. Did she recognise him?

  The gun fired. Craig fell to the floor. There was blood. Lots of blood.

  The gun disappeared into the man’s coat, he walked back to the car and slipped inside. The guy at the back door rubbed his hand through his hair and Nina saw the glint of gold and si
lver from the mask in his hand. The floor slipped from beneath her. The world was spinning. Her chest hurt so much.

  The car was gone.

  That was an execution order give. By a man holding that mask. The filigree mask... of the Ambassador.

  For twenty years, since the Ambassador took power, nobody had seen behind that mask. Craig saw his face and now Craig was dead.

  Nina had seen his face. She had seen her hero kill her friend.

  People were pouring out of the Palisade. She needed to get away. Craig’s cold, dead eyes stared at her as she passed. She could smell his blood.

  The face behind the mask. Nina knew that face. She had seen him before.

  4 - The Guard

  In the trailing edge of Falisans skirts stood the rotten toe of the Business District. Rows of empty warehouses sharply etched the region’s boundary. Heated metal roofs creaked as the wind cooled and flexed their sheets. The brickwork walls breathed freely where once mortar held them tight. Their lifecycles were nearly complete.

  The warehouses were closed for the autumn season, this area being away from the main transport routes. Unseen from the streets below Toby melded with the chimney shadows, watching a scruffy twenty-something stare into the dimming glow of dusk as it shimmered between the towers of Duchess High Rises, west of Central. It was Martyn Davidson, leader of the Ackersons, seeking a moment’s peace with the roof guards.

  There was only one reason why Martyn was their leader - nobody else wanted the job. Ackerson’s own son ran off years before, leaving Martyn’s father in charge of a bunch of bad-tempered headless fools, and Toby of course. Then Martyn’s father died. Only an idiot volunteers to be leader of this group. To be responsible for cowards, children and reckless fools.

  Toby, he knew the real truth about leadership. The Ackersons had a leadership council and anyone who joined immediately became useless. If you’re on the council then you’re on the police hit list. So, he wasn’t on the council. He stayed in the shadows, kept working and made sure Martyn stayed alive.

  As the red light of dusk flickered and choked, the younger man rubbed his arms for warmth and Toby followed him to the inviting glow of the roof stairway. The click-clacking of shoes on the metal staircase soon mingled with the sound of hurried whispers from the base of the stairwell. Slowing his pace, Toby ran his hands over his thinning curls. What’s happened now? Only half an hour to himself and something had gone wrong. Two of the council members were interrogating a day guard holding a clipboard. From up here the whole farce played out, complete chaos whenever Martyn stepped away. They looked up as Martyn skipped down the five remaining steps.

  “Martyn, where have you been? Marcus looked everywhere for you,” Emma said. The medic clutched a balled-up jumper, having been interrupted from childcare duties. She was one of the few competent people in the base, so her responsibilities were piled high.

  “Everywhere?” Martyn snapped at Marcus; the broad wiry man next to her.

  Emma crossed her arms. “Martyn, we need a council meeting.”

  “Where are the others? Zoe and Hywel?”

  “Ewan’s gone to find Hywel,” Marcus said.

  “Good. That’s a proactive guy. Why isn’t he on the council?” Martyn snapped.

  Probably because Ewan’s too useful. Ewan had that impossible mix of being useful and a decent human being. The exact opposite of Hywel, who couldn’t even find time to bring up his own daughter, ousting her on the rest of the group.

  Marcus wrinkled his neanderthal features. “Zoe’s had close call with the police.”

  Marcus and Zoe had been part of the group for a long time, maybe twenty years. That was when the curfew clampdowns began. When Zoe’s parents were arrested at their school for allowing kids to be picked up after curfew. Sedition.

  The leader pursed his lips. “Is she Ok?”

  “She’s messed up. I’m on my way to see her,” Marcus said.

  Emma rested her hand lightly on Marcus’s arm. “Stay here. I’m heading over to her now, but the rest of you need to listen to Ewan’s report. Ok?”

  From overhead, Toby kept an ear out for any calls from the other roof guard while watching the lax council dance around below. Someone must’ve cocked up big time for an impromptu meeting.

  Ewan, a ragged red head in his late thirties, jogged over to them. His odd-buttoned cotton shirt and patched jeans matched those of a lot of the warehouse-bound illegals. He hadn’t left the base more than three times in the last fifteen years.

  He waited respectfully for Martyn to greet him. “Hi Martyn. Hywel is on his way.”

  Marcus stared at the med station, wanting to be with his wife.

  Martyn turned attention back to the day guard. “Right Ewan, you led the day guard today. What happened? Who is it this time?”

  Ewan sighed and tapped his pen on the clipboard impatiently. “Who do I begin with? As Emma said, Zoe’s all knocked about after being chased across Duchess High Rises. Jamie Timms, the lad working with the school on Broad Street, he was late. He reported trouble on the underground. Alex was chased off a train. She’s missing.”

  Marcus nudged Ewan. “You could’ve put it more gently, mate.”

  Martyn gripped the stair rail. “Alex was off base? Nobody told me she was going out.”

  “She went to her off-site residence this morning. I thought you knew,” Ewan said.

  “Hang on,” Marcus said. “Wasn’t she staying there tonight?”

  “Not if she was chased off a train.” Martyn looked up at Toby.

  This was a problem. If the cops caught Alex the group would need to move base. They’d need to send out search parties and plan her escape. Most of all they’d need to restrain Martyn until a decent plan was ready.

  Marcus patted Martyn on the shoulder. “We’ll find her, Martyn.”

  Martyn pushed him away. “She knows too much to be running around by herself,” Martyn said.

  Ewan backed off as Martyn poked him in the chest.

  Something sparked in Martyn’s eye. “Ok. We prepare for events like this. We evacuate.”

  “She’s fast. She can outrun any cop,” Marcus said.

  “There’s more,” Ewan said. “Ian Harper scouted out a load of info from a police informant. Our whole council is now on the Executive Hit List. Every cop will be watching for you. Alex is on it too. And me.”

  Marcus shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. If we need to leave then we risk the Hit List.”

  “We’re running low on supplies. We’ll lose more if we evacuate,” Martyn said.

  “Ian’s found a police food transit route that we can strike. We’d stop police food supplies and restock our own at the same time.” Ewan eagerly pushed his clipboard under Martyn’s nose, offering up the plans.

  Marcus pushed Ewan aside. “You’re wanting to plan a strike now? You’re nuts.”

  “Shouldn’t you be with Zoe? Doesn’t your wife need you?” Ewan said. His face softened. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Martyn paced at the edge of the group. “No one is unbreakable. Call the evac order. Alex can’t hold her secrets forever.”

  How long could she last? Maybe a good few hours under a beating. She was fierce. Toby’d trained her; he’d seen what she could take. If they rolled out the drugs she’d crack sooner than that. It’s a shame she couldn’t give as good as she took in a fight. Her only tactic was to run really really fast.

  “What about the threat to the council?” Ewan asked. “You might be spotted.”

  Martyn shrugged. “We’ll definitely be caught if we stay here. We need to move. Then we hide. Agreed?”

  Toby looked across the warehouse, noticing not for the first time the amount of stuff the Ackersons had accumulated since their last relocation.

  Marcus nodded. “Well, Ewan and I’ve been hiding for years. Some of the others on the council will find it difficult to adjust.”

  “They’ll live,” Martyn said. “You’re responsible for Zoe. Keep her on site.”
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  “‘Course.”

  “Thirty minutes. Ewan make sure people pack the medical supplies and food before anything else. Emma will help coordinate that. We don’t need all this junk being transported across town; it will draw attention.”

  “I’m on it.” Ewan disappeared across the warehouse.

  “Marcus, get the armoury loaded in the car. You know how to hide it. You can pile up clothes in the back too.” Martyn started counting off his fingers as Marcus ran towards the armoury.

  “Toby, full alert!” Martyn called up the stairs. “Any sign of police movement outside and we revert to Plan B - abandon all the kit and take the emergency exit.”

  Toby nodded, on his toes to get back on the roof to prepare the emergency exit, but not wanting to leave the escape in the council’s hands.

  Martyn grabbed Ewan as he withdrew. “Do a head count and make sure everyone has travel partners. Then come back to me and we’ll give you directions to the next base. I’ll be with Zoe.”

  Toby called the alert up to the other roof guard, then skittered down the stairs to follow Martyn’s trail.

  Zoe, in the med station, had thin smears of dried blood in her cropped platinum hair, like bloody fingers had brush away a fly. She smirked as Martyn sat down next to her. Toby leaned against the wall, waiting his turn to speak privately to Martyn.

  “Hey Martyn,” Zoe sang, like a naughty child in her fifties. “Please don’t start, I’ve had a tough day. You know me, I had to check on my contacts. If they don’t get paid by me then they start chirping to someone else.”

  Martyn cleared his throat. “Zoe, I need to know the location of one of the safe houses.”

  He had Zoe’s full attention. “Why? What else happened today?”

  “Zoe, we need to move. How far away is the next base?” Martyn said.

  Zoe paused. “I’m thinking. There’s one that’s fifteen-minute walk away, but it’s rough living.” She nodded toward Toby. “Can we choose one of his for now?”