Chapter Fifteen
Deeta
The sound is deafening. I’m sitting bolt upright in bed, listening to the sound of its report, before I’m really awake.
“What was that?”
Jan, pyjamas askew and rubbing her eyes, has to shout to be heard above the din. I struggle out from underneath the bed clothes in more haste than is helpful, and trip over the sheet where it trails across the floor. I’m only saved from falling by grabbing Jan, and we tumble in unceremonious alarm from our room into the sitting room. My mother is just entering through her bedroom door. She has hastily wrapped a blanket around her trembling form. With relief I see that my father is close behind her.
“Dad, what’s happening?”
“If it’s what I think…” He breaks off. “I don’t know, but we’d better find out.”
The corridor is full of people; at one end I see Clare and Philip.
“What’s happening?” Clare’s voice catches in her thoat, her eyes wide and frightened.
“I was wondering if it would be best for the girls to stay up here, Dad?” Philip asks, but my father shakes his head.
“It might be best to stick together; let’s go downstairs and see what’s going on.”
Dad leads the way down into the hall, and I can see that most of our tribe has assembled already.
It’s obvious that no one knows what is going on. Everyone seems to be talking at once, and the noise is deafening. At first no one notices the guards that enter the hall from the courtyard outside. It’s only when one of the men pushes through the crowd towards Mr. Clark, and taps him on the shoulder, that the room becomes quiet enough for one voice to be heard above the general chaos.
“I have orders that your tribe is to be taken to the west building where they will be given weaponry and instructions.”
“Why do we need weapons, what’s happening?” asks Mr. Clark.
“Didn’t you hear the sirens? We’re under attack!”
“By whom?”
“Someone with dirty great guns, what more do you need to know?” he asks sarcastically. “Now hurry up and get over to the west building!”
The barrel of his gun comes up slightly, and nervously we fall away from him and edge towards the door.
The courtyard is in confusion. The sirens seem much louder in the open air, coupled with the sound of gunshots and explosions. I feel the pressure of the crowd separate me from my parents, and Jan and I are borne first one way, and then the other, by their frenzied disorder. It’s all we can do to hold on to each other, and stay on our feet.
“Deeta! Deeta!” I see a figure pushing against the crowd and, rather incredibly, making some head way towards us.
“Here, I’m here!” My voice seems tiny against the hubbub, but I see with relief his progress towards us. Robin reaches out, taking a firm hold on my hand, and drags me through the crowd that separates us to his side.
“Come on, this way.”
With grim determination he turns, and pulls us after him towards the south building. We pass through the hallway and out onto the street, not stopping until we rest panting in the shadow of the building that stands opposite the compound.
“Jan, Deeta!”
“Ralph!”
Ralph materialises from the shadows, his face pale and drawn in the dim light. He appears years older.
“Have you seen Nella? I can’t find her anywhere!”
“I don’t know where she is,” I reply.
“I haven’t seen her since dinner,” adds Jan.
“Then she must still be in there.” Even as he speaks he’s moving away from us. I make a grab for his hand, calling his name. He doesn’t seem to hear me.
“Deeta, you have to concentrate.” Robin shakes me, trying to bring my attention away from Ralph’s disappearing figure. “Deeta, listen to me!”
His urgent voice penetrates the fog around my brain, and I turn to him dazedly.
“But, Robin… Ralph...”
“Forget Ralph and listen. Are you listening to me, Deeta?”
I nod my head in affirmation.
“You have to go south if you want to survive.” He lifts his hand, pointing down one of the alleys that branch off the street. “South is that way. You’ll find a building almost completely fallen down; it’s only a story tall and it’s completely covered in ivy. It’s twelve buildings away. You need to find that building and stay there until I come for you, you’ll be safe there until then.”
As his information sinks slowly into my brain one thing becomes starkly and frighteningly clear.
“You’re leaving us?” My voice is not hysterical but oddly flat.
“I have to, Deeta.” He shuffles uncomfortably, but his eyes bore earnestly into mine. “Kate’s still in there somewhere. I’m sorry, this is the best I can do for you. I’ll meet you at the ruin later.” He turns, and I watch him run across the road and disappear out of sight. Then Jan and I are all alone.
Alone! For a moment I freeze before the harsh reality, but if we are alone we have to look after ourselves, there isn’t anyone else to do it for us.
“Janny, do you remember which way he said we were to go?”
“Down that street there.”
“Then we’d best get going.”
The alley is little more than a corridor between the buildings. It’s very dark, and I can’t see the floor. Our breathing sounds unnaturally loud in the confined space. From what I can tell we seem to be running into the centre of Marshall territory. We break, quite suddenly, into the clearing, and find the building just as Robin described it. Running gratefully into the shelter it affords, for a few moments the only sound is that of our heavy breathing.
“Do you think we should have made sure we weren’t being followed?”
“I couldn’t see anyone,” I answer. “How long do you think Robin will be?”
“Who knows how long it will take to find Catalina in the first place, then they’ll have to get back out of the complex.”
I shiver as she mentions the complex, the memory of the stampeding crowd still too recent and traumatic to be anything but unsettling. Yet even after suppressing the unwelcome memory, I continue to tremble. It takes a while to realise that the chill night air is to blame as it seeps through my thin cotton pyjamas, and I start to giggle.
“What’s wrong?” Jan’s voice, faintly uneasy, floats across the space that separates us.
“I was just thinking how strange we must look, running around in the middle of the night in nothing more than our pyjamas!”
Jan looks startled for a moment, and then smiles, moving to sit across from me. We huddle together in the silence, listening to the sounds of battle in the distance. Is it me or does that dreadful sound seem to be getting nearer?
Time drags on, until finally Jan shifts on the mound of rubble she’s perched on.
“He could have been caught you know,” her tone is conversational.
“Possibly.” I concede, I can’t deny that the thought has occurred to me too.
“How long has it been?”
“I’m not sure, twenty? Maybe thirty minutes?”
“I had it at about that.” Nods Jan.
I’m surprised how calm we are; I guess it’s a testament to how the last few days have changed us.
“What shall we do if he doesn’t come? How long do you think we should wait?” continues Jan.
“Maybe…”
Outside there is the crunch of gravel, and Jan and I flatten ourselves against the wall.
“I – it mightn’t be Robin.” Jan’s voice is soft, and I nod my head in agreement.
The building is littered with rubble. I bend to pick up a brick before creeping to stand at one side of the doorjamb, Jan similarly armed next to me. The steps come closer; soft cautious steps. I feel my heart begin to thud uncomfortably, my shallow breathing amplified by the silence.
The first part of him to enter is his gun. The red laser sight plays across the
opposite wall, and all hope and doubt vanish. This is not Robin; it’s one of them. Jan’s fingers tighten on my arm in warning, and I take a firmer grip on the brick.
The second his head is through the door I throw it at his helmet with all my might. The thud of contact as it crashes into his head brings a rush of satisfaction to flood my veins. The figure lurches over with a surprised shout, and Jan makes a grab for his gun. With what seems to be an instinctive reflex, the gun slides back into his hand and he levels it at her. The sight of the red laser light on Jan’s pyjama top freezes us both into immobility.
As we stand so unnaturally still, another helmeted figure walks through the door, and Jan and I are caught in the beam of a torch.
“What the… Nick, put that gun down! Can’t you see they aren’t armed?” The voice is amused.
“That’s what you think. One of the little dears, I haven’t had the chance to find out which one, lobbed the rock of Gibraltar at my head,” Nick growls back.
As he turns, his attention is only half upon us. Jan seizes the opportunity, and takes full advantage of his lack of concentration. She throws the brick she is still holding and the torch shatters, plunging the room back into darkness.
“Run, Janny, run!”
We both head for the door, and as we near it I turn to look over my shoulder for signs of pursuit. I don’t see Jan go down, but as I pass through the door the heavy force to the back of my head causes an explosion of fiery pain.
I don’t remember hitting the ground; the darkness claims me first.
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The unspeakable pain that encases my head is so all consuming, that for the first few minutes of consciousness, all I can do is remain completely still where I lay. By and by I manage, with my eyes still closed, to take a rough stock of my surroundings. The surface that I am stretched out on is hard, and there is the faint sensation of motion. Above me I can hear the low murmur of whispered conversation. Then I remember Jan.
My eyes open quickly, too quickly I realise as my eyes react painfully to the light. I turn my head to find, with relief, Jan is laid out beside me. Her dark eyelashes lie peacefully on her cheeks. I close my eyes again, trying to fight the nausea welling up within me that the motion is making worse.
“Looks like one of them is coming round.” The voice is unfamiliar.
“Best thing you can do is turn her lights out for her.” Comes a second, faintly aggrieved and more familiar voice.
I open my eyes again and blink slowly, carefully, a few times to bring the speakers into focus. There is a row of seats to each side of us occupied by soldiers, four to a side. Their visors are up, and they stare down at our hitherto inert forms.
For some moments I stare at them as they are staring at me, before the hazy recollection that I am only wearing pyjamas crawls into my mind. It is immediately followed by the reassuring secondary realisation that we have been further covered by rough woollen blankets.
There is a sudden lurch as movement stops, and the soldiers open the tailgate of what I now perceive is a truck. A moan beside me signals Jan’s struggle toward consciousness.
“Come on, missy, up you get.” One of the soldiers has my arm, and is gently trying to encourage me to rise. “Come on, up you get; you’ll feel better soon.”
For a second I stare at him blankly.
“I’m sorry.”
Turning abruptly I throw up, and I hear rather than see him pull away from me.
“I’m really sorry.”
Again a wave of nausea sweeps over me, and I convulse.
“I’m so sorry!” My voice is unsteady, and my whole form trembling.
“That’s alright, missy, are you going to…” He makes a sketchy gesture.
“No, no; I’m fine now.” I can feel moisture standing icy cold on my brow.
“Come on now, missy.” He wraps the blanket around me more securely, and lifts me into his arms.
“James, lad, get the other one would you?” He calls over his shoulder.
I hadn’t realised that I’d been out of it for so long. The sky is bright, and the sunshine makes my head throb. Closing my eyes against the harshness of the light, the sickness I’m feeling lessens. I hear a door open, and the crunch of gravel cease as he steps into a noisy room. I turn my head into his shoulder away from the glaring lights.
“And to the victor goes the spoil, hey, Simon?”
“Hello, sir, I’m glad to see you safe,” answers my captor.
“Have a bit of a struggle with her did you? I’d have thought…” The amused voice stops suddenly, and when he next speaks his voice is low. “You’d better get her to a bed.”
“Yes, sir, I’m on my way to the ward.”
“No!” His voice is harsh, and he moderates his tone for his next words. “She isn’t as bad as all that; she just needs some quiet. Take her to a holding room.”
“But, sir, she’s had a nasty hit to the back of her head. Shouldn’t a doctor…”
“Take her to the holding room, Simon, and be as quick as you can.” The voice commands authoritatively.
“But there’s another girl…”
“Then take them both!”
I’m only half aware of the conversation taking place, being more concerned by my discomfort than anything else. We begin to move again, and the hubbub gets fainter, until the only sound is that of Simon and James footsteps.
The bed that I am placed on is hard and covered in a plastic that crackles when I move. I lay still listening to the sound of my captor creeping around the room quietly. Soon he comes to stand near the bed again.
“Here, missy, this’ll make you feel better.”
He raises my head and shoulders, and I sip gratefully at the water he is holding to my lips. When I’m finished he lays me gently back down on the bed, and I open my eyes into narrow slits. My helper is a tall man with thick grey hair and soft blue eyes.
“What’s your name?”
“Simon Rush at your service, missy,” he answers promptly. “And what’s yours?”
“Deeta Richards; please could you tell me what you’ve done with my sister?”
“She’s next door sleeping like a baby,” he answers. “So you’re sisters are you? I thought as much. What’s your sister’s name?”
“Jan. Please, sir; is she alright?”
I try to sit up at this juncture, but he pushes me back down.
“Don’t worry, she’s fine. She’ll have a headache like yours when she comes round, but she’ll be ok. The best thing both of you can do is sleep.”
The plastic covering crackles as he stands, but before he can leave I grab his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Rush, for all your kindness; I’ll not forget it.”