Rise

by Victoria Powell

  Gray nodded towards Hywel, engaging his attention. “Hywel, there is a new plan. It is time to extract yourself and your daughter from the base. Then we strike.”

  Hywel visibly bristled. His limbs danced. He said, “You’re keeping to the deal? We will get a safe house, be protected and… we’ll be free?”

  Gray nodded. He said, “There will be no opportunity for Alex to resist. It will be a peaceful capture. We’ve arranged a safe house for the next few weeks, until the remaining Ackersons are mopped up.” He gestured towards Somersby. “We’ll strike instantly.”

  “They’re always ready for an attack,” Hywel said.

  “The sergeant will be with them. If they relocate she will send word of their whereabouts. By week’s end they will be wiped out. Another pest eradicated.” Gray sighed.

  Hywel shook a little, but lost his fear. “This… is great news. I can’t believe it is really happening.”

  Gray smugly patted Hywel on the shoulder. “We have Heather Appleby and Nathan Wong as bait.”

  Hywel stammered, “R-right. That’s good bait.”

  Gray leaned in. “You’re ready for this?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Somersby squirmed at the sudden smile that crossed Hywel’s face. No matter how much snitching Hywel did, this man had murdered, pillaged and evaded the law. Her stomach rolled to think that he and his daughter would be given a carefree life when she could barely even afford the most basic of shared shacks outside of the police barracks.

  Gray clicked his fingers in front of Somersby to clear her glazed expression. “Right, well. Now that you’re both paying bloody attention; here’s the plan.”

  8 - The Daughter

  On the edge of The Reaches and Central, Alex and her father kept their faces down. Time was pressing. Heather had been missing for over a week. Anything could happen to her. She didn’t deserve that. Neither did Nathan.

  Zoe was covering their backs at the warehouse for a couple of hours, but if they didn’t get back in time it would take them days to find the new base. Martyn would never trust her again. This was the end of whatever was left of their relationship.

  The whole plan relied on a guy Alex had never met, a contact of Hywel’s who works in Central. Without this guy there was no way Alex and Hywel could get to Heather and Nathan in the cells. It didn’t sit easy, but Alex didn’t have the head space to worry about that.

  Looking into the shining mouth of the Central Shopping Centre, Alex smiled. “I miss this,” she said, jogging Hywel with her elbow. “Us.”

  “You Ok?” Hywel squinted at her.

  “Just letting the adrenalin take me. Can’t think about the rest.” Alex sucked in a shaking breath and grinned a Cheshire smile.

  “Don’t smile like that. Your false nose will fall off,” he said.

  “Don’t tease. I don’t use a false nose. People look at you funny. I used a bit of that cheek putty.” She smirked.

  “I can tell. It makes your voice a bit slurred. Is it rubbing against your teeth?”

  She moved her tongue around her mouth. “It tastes like pastry. You Ok?”

  Hywel pulled his denim jacket closer. “Huh?”

  “You look a bit grey.”

  He shot her a sideways look, appraising her short blond wig and lightened skin. “I look grey? Have you seen yourself today?”

  Alex pulled her dove pendant out from under her top and started nervously chewing on the chain.

  “Lexi,” Hywel said.

  “What? I won’t break it. I do this all the time,” she said, chain still balancing on her lower lip.

  “That was your mother’s.”

  “I know.”

  He smirked. “So does everybody else. Put it away.”

  The chain disappeared again. She smoothed her natural wig down. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Yeah, I’m the one taking this seriously,” he said.

  “No need to snap.” She checked her watch.

  Hywel paused, taking Alex’s hand, feeling it tremble. “You know it’s not your fault, right? We can turn around right now if that’s what you want.”

  Alex shook her head, but couldn’t meet his eye.

  Hywel checked his watch as well. “We’re on time. Let’s get going down the tunnel. Security should be low until Deep Level Two. My contact will meet us there at the service entrance.”

  Alex stretched up and straightened Hywel’s tweed flat cap. “Ok, let’s go.”

  “If we get separated...”

  “I’ll meet you back at base,” Alex said. “We’ll be Ok.”

  Hywel nodded.

  “You trust this guy?”

  “Yeah, I... he’s a good guy,” Hywel said.

  Alex looped her arm around Hywel’s and her nervous smile returned. “Ok. Take me shopping.”

  A lump in Hywel’s jacket dug into her side.

  The shadow of Central fell over them. The massive structure sat on the peak of the small hill overlooking the entire city. Police and civil servants sat behind every window, beavering away at secretive tasks that kept the police state running. Before joining the Ackersons Hywel worked on the tenth floor, barely a fifth of the way up the building. He never saw the view from the top.

  Beneath the offices, large open tunnels led shoppers past bright white outlets with glass facias and camera coated ceilings. Many of the shops were owned by the Embassy, offering approved foods and clothing. There was no avoiding the cameras. That was why Alex wore urban camouflage. Contact lenses blurred the iris scanners, but their poor fitting made the eyes itch.

  The press of funnelled shoppers shunted them forward down the one-way system. There was no way back. This was it.

  A wheeled shopping bag clipped Alex’s ankle. Voices surrounded them. Happy, laughing and shouting people. Teenage boys pushed past, running into Games Place. Mothers struggled with prams. A handful of civil servants in their grey uniforms pressed towards the security barriers and the lifts, but everyone else aimed for the cheap shops in the caverns below. Alex’s grip tightened on Hywel’s arm as the crush increased.

  The natural light behind them disappeared. The tunnel twisted and split as they delved down to Deep Level One. The lights transitioned from the bright white to a calm green. Gentle music lulled over the roar of voices. Wind tickled past their heads, mingling with a sweet bakery smell that pumped from overhead vents. They travelled deeper.

  “Dad, look over there.” Alex nodded to the side of a perfume vendor. “And over there.” Her eyes caught by something near Jack’s Shoes.

  Hywel hesitated. “What’s wrong?”

  “Undercover cops.” She pulled her arm away from him and hugged her chest.

  “They’re just waiting for their wives outside the shops,” he said.

  She shook her head. “They’re waiting for us.”

  She pushed away to get further into the crowd. He took hold of her elbow to keep them together.

  “Dad, we’ve walked into a trap. They knew we would come for Heather and Nathan,” Alex said, keeping her voice low.

  He led her forward. “Nobody would expect the two of us to come alone.”

  “No, because that would be stupid,” she said.

  The nature of the crowd changed as they lined up for the approach to the supermarket.

  “Look, we’ve just passed the last exit up to the surface before we meet my contact, right?” Hywel said.

  Alex nodded. “Ok, yep.”

  “It’s one-way traffic, we can’t go back.”

  Again Alex nodded, but the fear built up inside her.

  “We must keep going. It’s the first door on the right after the ramp down to Deep Level 2.” Hywel squeezed her arm, then dodged out of the way of a kid on a scooter.

  The crowd pulled them to the left, towards the supermarket and away from the down ramp. Battling to the right through the thick wall of people, Alex and Hywel tripped through the final food shoppers into the queue for the down ramp.


  “What the hell?” Alex hissed, trying to keep her voice low. “You said the security barriers were down. You promised me. The security barriers are supposed to be offline!”

  “It’s Ok, Lexi. It’ll be Ok.”

  Alex pulled back, but Hywel grabbed at her and held still.

  “We can’t go back. Think! Don’t panic.”

  The queue ahead of them was thirty people deep. Alex and Hywel stretched to look over the crowd to the security barriers on the ramp. Ten checking stations were lit up at the base of the ramp; too close to the exit they needed to take. Hywel ducked down nervously.

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

  He flinched. “Nothing.”

  She pushed up onto her toes and scanned the barrier again. “Bloody hell! He’s there!”

  “Keep calm.” Hywel pushed her forwards to keep with the line.

  “No, no, no. Dad. Defoe found me? He’s down there waiting for me.” Her bones jogged as the adrenaline took over.

  He pulled her close and felt the pistol dig into his hip again.

  “Damn!”

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

  He pushed her back slightly, looking around. “I need to get rid of something.” He made the sign of a gun with his hand. “There’s a drop box somewhere over on the left wall. Toby showed me once.”

  “You brought that with you?” She said. “What were you going to do, hit people over the head with it? You can’t even shoot a brick wall.”

  He pulled her across the flow of people towards the wall, pretending to head for one of the outlets. “Doesn’t matter. We can’t get through the security barrier with it.”

  Hywel pulled Alex towards Bathrooms Plus.

  “There are two cops standing in front of the drop box,” he said, looking intently at an infinity pool in the shop window.

  “Can we slip it into one of the bins on the ramp?”

  “They’re all set with gunpowder detectors,” he said.

  Alex was searching for inspiration. “The supermarket might have an emergency exit.”

  “Nope. Sealed tight.”

  They were close enough to the supermarket to enter through the lower entrance without any fuss from the cameras. The windows were covered in adverts for tinned beans and super-power lemon bleach.

  “Lexi, they have a cafe. There may be an unsecure bin there,” Hywel said.

  “You want us to go into the cafe, have a cup of tea and stash a gun in the trash with our paper cups?” Alex asked.

  “No, missy. You’ll do it.”

  “What?” Alex snapped.

  “All of it. Go in, wait ten minutes, then follow me through security.”

  “Why? Why are we splitting up?”

  Hywel slipped the pistol out of his jacket and pushed it under her jumper. “We’ll get through easier separately. Then I can find my contact before you arrive.”

  Alex juggled the pistol nervously into place beneath her clothes. “I thought you trusted him.”

  “I do.”

  “I don’t like this.” Alex saw the queue lengthening. “They knew when we’d be here. The barriers haven’t been up long.”

  Hywel gripped both her shoulders and held her tight. “You’re Ok. Do what you’re told. If I’m not at the meeting place you head for the surface. Get back to the others.”

  Alex narrowed her eyes. “Hang on. Are you going to break out Heather by yourself?”

  Hywel scowled at her. “Get going. Get rid of that thing.”

  He dove into the crowd. Should she watch him pass through the barrier? No, she needed to get rid of the pistol and get into that queue herself. It could take forever to get to the cafe at the back of the supermarket. People swarmed all over the shop, fighting over the last packet of digestive biscuits or tiger bread loaf. Alex pushed into the fray.

  A fleeting look of recognition flickered from a shop assistant when she shoved a basket into Alex’s hands. Alex kept walking. She was over the threshold. The crowd split, filtering down different aisles. Towering stacked shelves surrounded her. Alex stashed the basket behind a pyramid of food tins.

  Two turns later, eyes on the floor, she was in the bustling cafe. What was she doing here? So many people. Too many eyes. No matter how good her disguise someone would recognise her. Weaving through the occupied tables, she sat down at a quiet booth where a dirty cup and plate were discarded.

  “Hey, Miss,” a waitress called, bussing the tables. “You gonna buy something?”

  Alex nodded nervously at the irritated waitress. “I’ll wait for a friend.”

  The woman cleared away the crockery, giving Alex a doubtful look. Nobody else paid attention. Alex scanned the room, looking for somewhere to stash the pistol. It had to be somewhere secret, somewhere no kids would find it. The waitress clearing the tables meant the cafe would not need a large bin accessible to the public. There was a tiny one by the sugar and teaspoons, but she could not get the pistol in there discretely. That would be as effective as trying to flush the pistol down the toilet.

  Nobody was looking. Alex slipped the pistol down onto her lap and unclipped the magazine. It held ten .22 bullets. The tiny magazine fitted within the width of her hand. She dug it painfully into her palm and tucked the pistol under the edge of her jumper. Her head rested in her hands.

  Time was ticking on. She’d have to leave the pistol on a shelf somewhere. If she left the magazine somewhere else then the pistol would not be immediately dangerous. Her fingers semi-consciously rubbed down the pistol with her jumper. Get rid of the fingerprints. Leave no evidence.

  That guy was staring at her. Late-twenties, curly blond hair and a devil-may-care smile, sitting on the edge of an occupied table. The couple sitting at his table glared at him as they tried to eat. He ignored them and widened his smile. The stranger snaked across to her table and sat down, pinning her in next to the wall.

  “Hi, there.”

  “Go away,” she said.

  Curls smirked and scratched his fingernails at the air. “Oo, look. Ali the alley cat. How cute.”

  He saw the pistol slipping out from her jumper.

  “You’re not a cop. What do you want?” She said, watching for a tell.

  “I’m an activist, like you.”

  She tensed. “Which group?”

  He held his hand out towards her and whispered. “Tom Monmouth. Pleased to meet you.”

  That empty hand held many dangers. “As in, the Monmouths?”

  “Deceased leader Monmouth was my grand-pappy. His friends hid me a lot better than your guys hid Ackerson’s spawn.” Tom leant on the table, amused by her. “I’ve been following you.”

  She checked the room again. Nobody was watching. “There’s nothing special about me.”

  Tom stretched towards her, crowding her. “I wanted to see who’d come to the rescue.”

  Alex pursed her lips.

  “Everyone knew someone would come. Too predictable.” Tom chuckled quietly.

  The pistol flicked up and he straightened in the chair.

  “Come on, Ali. What were you thinking? Your disguise is good, but it’s useless if someone is expecting you.”

  Alex shrugged. “Maybe the cops aren’t as good as you.”

  Tom let out a loud bark. “We watch the news. I know who’s chasing you and I saw him at the security gates. Defoe’s watching for you.”

  Alex twisted in her seat. “Did you just sit down to gloat?”

  He flashed his teeth at her. “I wanted to admire your blonde locks. Nice. That guy you were with, he knew you were holding him back and he couldn’t get through the barrier with that.” Tom pointed at the pistol. “So, he told you to get rid of it and follow him through. Am I right?”

  Alex tightened her grip on the weapon.

  “I want to help you,” he said.

  Alex gripped the pistol tighter. “Never trust a Monmouth.”

  “That’s harsh,” Tom said.

  “You use the term ‘collateral damage�
� too much.”

  Tom shrugged. “It’s a kill or be killed world.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  The air stilled between them.

  “Look, Ali. I can help you get out of here. Let’s not slow you down any longer.” Tom rested his hand palm up on the table. “I can get rid of your little metal detector problem for you.”

  She scoffed. “So, you can shoot up some cops with it?”

  He shook his head. “Neither of us want to leave here in a body bag. That gun will get me nowhere. But I have a working drop box. You don’t.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  He slipped his hand off the table and rested the tip of his finger on her thigh. “You can still stand up and walk away, but I think I’m your only choice.”

  His fingers drew a tiny circle just above her knee, playing with her nerves. Then they slipped closer to the pistol and took it. He turned it over in his hands.

  “This is a good piece.”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t had time to check it over.”

  He felt it’s weight. “I like it.” He smiled sideways at her. “You ever thought of switching teams?”

  “To the Monmouths?” She pulled a face. “No. Death and carnage are not my thing.”

  “Shame.”

  The pistol turned on her. He cocked the weapon. She pulled back her curled-up hands in submission.

  “You’d’ve been good with us... if the police hadn’t shot you.”

  Click. The hammer clicked home again.

  Her hand holding the magazine connected across his nose as he realised the pistol was empty. On light feet, she hopped over his prone body and skipped past shrieking customers. A glance told her he was moving. Blood was seeping from a cut near his eye.

  Weaving back through the aisles, she entered the slipstream flowing out of the door and tossed the magazine onto a shelf. An alarm screamed. They must have found the pistol. People began to panic. The current of people sped up. A guy on a scooter ploughed through the crowd. Alex hoisted a pre-teen to his feet before someone could trample him.

  Against their will, they were pushed towards the crush of people at the security gates. Police were cutting their way back to the supermarket. Alex pushed sideways to make way for six foot of muscle steaming the other way.