Rise

by Victoria Powell

  Toby picked a neighbouring seat and bristled next to him. The lad must’ve picked at his nerves for the past four hours. Now the sound of Barney dribbling weak gruel off his spoon into his bowl was making him gag. Nothing could block out the splashing and burbling noise of the mulch smacking back into Barney’s pool of gruel.

  Pulling her focus back, Debbie was smiling at Alex across the table. The fifteen-year-old was always lurking nearby, cooing from her chubby face. Today Debbie’s light brown hair was plaited back, like Alex did whenever she left the base.

  “Morning, Deb.”

  Debbie grinned wider. “Are you helping with the little kids today?”

  Runny porridge wobbled in Alex’s spoon. “Yep, that’s my role now.”

  “Me too!”

  The spoon dropped back in the bowl. “Aren’t you still studying for your 16+ exam?”

  “I did the mock test last week. There’s nothing else to learn now.”

  Know-it-all.

  Debbie watched Alex stir the porridge. Debbie said, “You know, I wish I could do the final exam too, but as an illegal it’s too much of a risk.”

  “What risk? Nobody knows who you are.”

  Debbie kept the smile on her lips. “I, I’m an activist too. It’s not worth the risk.”

  “You’re right.” Alex tried to back track. “I just mean, you’re only a kid. You’re not some big deal here.”

  Debbie picked up her empty bowl and shuffled over to the sink.

  “Nice going.” Emma shoved Alex hard from behind, sending shooting pain along the healing gash.

  “What?”

  Emma scooped up Alex’s full breakfast bowl. “Breakfast is for team players, Alex. It’s time you put in effort to make some friends.”

  “But she’s just a kid!”

  Alex turned away for her receding breakfast bowl to the guy watching her. Barney plonked his spoon back into the bowl as Marcus settled down next to Toby, embarrassed by the presence of one of the council members at his table. Toby smirked, scooping some of the cardboard tasting gruel into his mouth just as Marcus patted him on his back.

  “You alright there, Tobe? Great morning, isn’t it?” Marcus said with a trill.

  Toby swallowed his mouthful and scowled at him.

  “Been on nights?” Marcus twittered.

  “Yep.”

  Marcus yawned out in a deep groan. “I’m so glad I don’t have to do that. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open now.”

  The table was filling up and Marcus was quickly distracted. Alex gave up on the cat’s piddle in her cup.

  “Brian, right?”

  Barney stumbled with the spoon, having nearly finished his own porridge. “‘s Barney, actually.”

  “‘Course it is.” Marcus looked down at Barney’s plate eagerly. “You got bacon for breakfast?”

  Barney looked nervously down at his long-awaited bacon. “Yes.”

  “What a shame to leave it behind. Can I have it?” Marcus made to lean across and take it.

  Toby took a light hold on Marcus’s arm. “He’s just been out on nights, Marcus. That’s why he got the bacon.”

  Marcus chortled light-heartedly. “But he doesn’t want it. I’m just clearing up the waste, Tobe.”

  “Marcus, I’m serious. Leave the lad be,” Toby continued. “You intimidate him. He’ll say whatever you want.”

  Barney coughed gently, trying to defend himself. “It’s alright, Toby. He can have it.”

  “No, he can’t,” Toby snapped. “You’re on duty again tonight. If you don’t eat enough breakfast you won’t sleep and you’ll fall asleep on duty later. Do what you’re told and eat that bloody bacon now.”

  Barney and Marcus stilled. Alex hid her smirk.

  The bacon rattled on Barney’s plate as he picked at the brittle fragments. Toby sighed and rose from the table, heading towards the one quiet room in the basement.

  “Damn,” Marcus whispered, then giggled quietly.

  Gina Rigby shuffled down the table, next to Marcus. Where did she come from?

  Marcus squirmed next to her. They all did. “Hey there... Gina.”

  She smiled loosely, glancing around the room. “Hey Marcus. Where’s your wife?”

  Alex knew where Zoe was. Feigning sleep for two hours before the dawn had its perks. Spotting Zoe sneak out was definitely a perk.

  Marcus slowly scanned the room, “She’s uh...”

  “Haven’t seen her in hours,” Somersby said.

  Marcus left the table.

  “Alex.”

  Alex twisted around. A wall of compact, golden brown muscle held out a hand to lift her to her feet.

  “Time to get to work,” he said.

  Alex smiled. “Where to, Nick? Are you helping with the kids today?”

  “Hopefully just today.”

  Was he patronising her? “One kid in particular?”

  “You got it. A particularly difficult one.”

  She pushed past his empty hand, heading over to the reading corner where Sally and Jess were already settling the little ones down. A little ginger-haired girl climbed onto her lap as she settled into the audience, waiting for the hero mouse to chase the beast away. Nick settled down too, doing a brilliant job of keeping Jim Finch’s kid occupied. He knew how to blend in with a crowd. Josh had more of a sore thumb look, standing on the edge leering down.

  “She’s not down here!” Marcus was hollering by the open cellar hatch. It slammed down hard, making half the kids start.

  What time is it? Was Zoe planning to be out all morning, without leaving a note? There was going to be a fight if she wasn’t back soon. Marcus and her Dad would want to go out to track her down, but Toby and Martyn would try to hold them back.

  The base was being turned over by anyone and everyone. Some of the scouts were putting packs on for a search and rescue, by the looks of it. Gina was following the gang of eager scouts, egging Martyn on as he hunted the base. The outer doors rolled open, exposing the guts of the warehouse.

  Here he comes. Toby crawled into the light, lowering the hatch quietly behind him. He jogged across the warehouse towards the scouts.

  “Alex, some help please?”

  Nick was struggling with ‘Pinchy’ Finch, the little demon screaming and kicking at him. Alex pulled the toddler into her arms and wheeled him around a couple of times, jogging him in her arms.

  “Hey now, little Jacob. You’re missing the story.” She shushed his squeaking, pointing down at the disjointed, distracted storyteller.

  They were looking at her, Toby and the scouts. Just for a moment. Checking she was still here. Martyn’s gaze lingered longest.

  It looked like Toby was winning the argument. The doors were sliding closed and the scouts were scurrying back inside. Maybe Zoe had a reprieve.

  7 - The Spy

  Curling up on her bed mat, Somersby smirked into a bag of spicy dried peas. Martyn was calming the panic. The panic he’d created. The man was cracking up. It was so close to the perfect opportunity to call in Inspector Gray, but then Toby came up from the night guard room and tidied all the Ackersons away. She owed Toby a knife in the back.

  Time was pressing. Now was the perfect time to map out the hierarchy of the group. Toby’s role was exposed, Mr Chief of Security. She just needed Hywel to confirm what she knew and Hywel wasn’t helping. Perhaps it was time Somersby made acquaintance with Hywel’s little girl. A bit more leverage on her snitch.

  Alex was kept busy with the kids on the opposite side of the warehouse, surrounded by at least a dozen kids aged between three and twelve years old. Two older women, in their mid-fifties, were tutoring the older children. The sergeant never normally made assumptions about the illegals, but she was awed by the advanced stuff taught by these naïve housewives.

  Somersby squeezed past a group of irritable teens and observed Alex reading to the smaller kids. The jet-haired youth was a good storyteller. She was passionate, tender and engaging. Sat there in the midst o
f the kids she could be mistaken for any respectable young woman. She wore a bobbled arran pullover, black leggings and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. The hiking socks bulging at her ankles were the only reminder of her unruly nature.

  There were three men lurking around the group. A shaggy haired, thick-set man sat at the edge of the group, playing with a distracted toddler. That might have been Charlie or Nick, one of the day guards. A brunette with a velvet jacket sat in the middle, encouraging the kids to react to the story at the right times. Was he one of the scouts? He normally left with the 7am rush. The final man was leaning on the wall behind Alex, not even pretending to be child minding. Were they Alex’s minders?

  The story was coming to an end and the children cheered as the monster turned its many spiky tails and ran screaming into the forest. Alex closed the book and passed it to a little girl who piled it back on a disorderly shelf. With an unspoken command all the kids stood up and the women herded them towards tables where papers, chalks and colouring pencils were spread out. Alex brushed herself down, picked up a reluctant little boy and started nattering to him as they stumbled towards the tables.

  With carefully disguised revulsion Somersby picked up another lagging child and gently set it down in front of a sheet of paper. She straightened up and felt the curious looks from Alex and the others. A bit of hands-off observation of the children led her around the table to Alex just as the brats were called into lunch.

  Alex sighed and shrugged. “Thanks.”

  “Do you do this all the time?” Somersby asked, hurrying to keep up as Alex paced after the kids.

  Alex analysed Somersby curiously. “No, just while I’m stuck at base.” Somersby smiled in an attempt at understanding. “Gina, is it?”

  “Yes. Gina Rigby.”

  Alex picked up a plate and approached the buffet table. “You’re not used to kids, are you?”

  The spy shrugged; she could never bluff with kids. “I haven’t had the practice.”

  They sat at a table away from the kids. It seemed like the changing of the guard as a set of new adults took care of the little ones during the lunch hours. It was perfect timing for Somersby to sneak some information out of Alex without her even knowing it. The young woman seemed like she wanted to be amiable to Somersby.

  “You’ve been with this group a long time? Your father told me.” The red head pried.

  Alex nodded. “I’ve heard your tale too. You’ve had a hard time recently.”

  “Haven’t we all?” Knowing that Hywel might have deviated from the cover story, or embellished beyond her timid tale, Somersby never told the strict cover story.

  Alex played with the food on her plate before responding. “You’re planning to stay with us indefinitely?”

  Somersby swallowed a spoonful of rice. “Well, we’ll see how things go. I don’t want to be pinned in here too long.”

  “I understand that.”

  Somersby put down her fork decisively. “I suppose what you really want to know is if I’ve had it off with your Dad?”

  Alex snorted her drink and spluttered. “No. No, I really don’t.”

  Somersby liked to make people squirm. “I’m not interested in him. I was his contact, he’s promised to look after me while I’m here, that’s all. But I’m so bored here. Please, give me something to do.”

  Alex breathed again, seemingly relieved by the spy’s half-truths. “What can you do?”

  Somersby forced a light-hearted giggle. “Well I’m obviously useless with the kids.” Alex nodded with a mouthful of food. “The older women seem really good at it?”

  “They were teachers before they came here. Maggie taught at the police barracks.” Alex pointed out a skinny woman with cropped peppered hair and a scar running along her jaw.

  “That would explain it.” Somersby checked herself, forcing herself not to stare at the ex-cop. “So, if I’m useless at kids, maybe I can help with supplies, scouting or security?”

  Alex shrugged. “All of those need anonymity with the police. You sound like you’re as risky as I am out there right now. What about something like cooking?”

  Somersby wrinkled her nose. “I can’t cook.”

  Alex smirked. “Can’t cook or won’t cook? Doesn’t matter. What about cleaning?”

  “Huh.” Somersby sighed weakly. “Nope. Not a domestic goddess at all. I really want to be involved in the action.”

  Impatience was starting to show on Alex’s face. That girl was useless at masking her emotions. “I really don’t want to be here either. I don’t have much choice.”

  Somersby glanced over her shoulder. “You’ve noticed your guards, then.”

  “Not so much noticed them as actually been held back by them.”

  The red head had a similar experience about five years earlier when one of her colleagues was shot by an insurgent in the street. Gray ordered her to be contained at the police station just because this particular colleague had been in her bed a few times. It was only after the guy was captured that she was allowed out of one of the more comfortable detention cells. Gray, apparently, was protecting one of his prime assets.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Somersby said.

  Alex sighed again. “No need to be oh so proper.”

  “Should I be calling you Lexi, then?”

  Alex chortled. “Huh, it’s Alex. My Dad calls me Lexi, very rarely, and I don’t like it.”

  Alex finished her lunch; Somersby had to speed things up. “Well, Alex, they’re all looking out for you. Perhaps if I knew who to ask I might be able to help with some of the minor security surveillance?”

  Picking up her plate, Alex dithered over Somersby’s words before replying. “Gina, you’re new here so you don’t know how things work. Nobody knows who controls what. We’re safer if it’s secret. That way we protect the supplies and security.”

  “But you must know.”

  “I make an effort not to know.”

  They stowed their plates in the kitchen and began to walk back towards the children’s area. “But how do you get anyone to do anything without orders being passed about?”

  Alex smirked at her. “It’s all fed through the council. Security for example, one person coordinates over ten security guards at the warehouse and loads of scouts. On each watch there’s always one guy more senior than the other. One of them oversees security, but I never tried to figure out who.”

  “Ok, but how do I volunteer?” Somersby tried again.

  Alex shrugged. “The same way that you volunteered to look after the children; just turn up for a shift.”

  This was getting nowhere. Somersby looked across the warehouse for a distraction. The idea of spending a whole afternoon looking after sticky little children made her want to poke out her eyes. Once the Ackersons were captured all the children would be re-homed to more suitable locations.

  On the other side of the warehouse the council were vacating their meeting. Somersby turned back to the untidy dining table and began to clear away the coloured pencils. Alex came over to help. The spy bristled. Come on Hywel, look over.

  When Zoe returned the turmoil in the warehouse left a blackhole in security. Somersby collared Hywel and snuck out to the rubbish filled gutter where they first met. The street was tinted by natural light, though the Sun sank low over the buildings. Somersby lurked a pace behind Hywel, teasing nervousness out of him. Gray was waiting for them.

  Gray wore a dark woollen jacket that was pocked with moth holes. A fresh bruise blossomed high on his cheek, spreading across his nose and blackening his eyes. Something blunt had impacted with his face; a thrown brick or a swung bat.

  “Sir,” Somersby nodded to him subserviently. “There’s blood on your jacket.” Her eyes caught on the fresh dark spots on the wool.

  He ignored her and turned on Hywel. “What happened today?” He gestured off towards the city. “There were gangs out everywhere, and not just Ackersons.”

  “Zoe
ran off to Falisans. The council panicked and sent out a load of scouts to find her,” Hywel mumbled.

  “The Monmouths and Erikssens picked up on the chaos.” Gray guessed rubbing his chin. “Why didn’t you get word to me? We could’ve contained her without suspicion falling on you.”

  Hywel wrung his hands and said, “The council were contained all morning, Somersby can verify that.” He looked fleetingly at the immobile spy. “We couldn’t get out until Zoe returned.”

  Gray rubbed his temples. “I don’t care for your excuses. Who was she meeting and where?”

  Hywel shrugged. “We don’t know. She was on her way back when they found her.” He saw the Inspector’s pained look at his response and continued quickly. “But she talked about recent first contacts. It could be one of them. I don’t know full names, or addresses.”

  “Hywel.”

  “Lexi! She contacted a young couple, Nathan and Claire something-or-other, in Falisans. He’s a dealer and she’s in a wheelchair. She sells jewellery.” Hywel felt his insides twist. They saved Lexi’s life and he was punishing them for it. No, Nathan and Claire were just faceless names to Hywel; names that could give his daughter another chance.

  Gray nodded. “They may be of use. Them and Heather Appleby.” He turned to Somersby. “Report.”

  Somersby stepped forwards, coming to attention. “Hywel’s report has some truth to it. The suppliers and security leaders are kept secret. The council members act as a façade, hiding the real persons responsible for those roles.

  “Martyn is the only person who knows everybody’s role, but we won’t catch him. Zoe is the next best person to catch.” Somersby paused for questions.

  Gray paced across the street. “Good. Good, good.”

  Somersby continued. “The security chief may be one of three people. Two of the base security guards take time to leave the base for long periods of time and one of the scouts seems extremely competent. After events this morning I am leaning towards one particular guard, but I am reluctant to name him until I am certain.”

  Gray pierced her with his stare. “When will you be sure?”

  “How long do I have, sir?” She flashed a meaningful look towards the mousey Hywel standing by her side.