“Yeah and there’s not a great view out of this window because that telegraph post gets right in the way,” TJ says, looking out of the window and weaving his head from side-to-side trying to get an uninterrupted view of the bin where the drop will take place in less than half an hour.
“We’ll still be able to see her approaching,” I reply.
***
After twenty minutes TJ takes the note from his pocket and screws it into a ball. He examines it and makes some alterations because clearly just screwing it up didn’t look random enough. We listen as his footsteps disappear back down the corridor and shortly after he reemerges in the street below. He turns his head slightly to the side, like he’s about to look up at us, but then thinks better of it and heads towards the bin where he discreetly drops the screwed up piece of paper. Instead of returning to the room he walks over to the adjacent food stalls that are closing for the night and waits.
I stare hard at the piece of paper, worried that I’ll lose track of which one it is, and only break eye contact to look up and down the street repeatedly. Ten o’clock comes and then passes, by first minutes and then tens of minutes. The food stall that TJ’s pretending to browse closes entirely and he’s forced to sit on a small wall instead. I’m thankful that Redd nominated TJ because he’s able to blend seamlessly into the crowd with his demure demeanour.
I rest my head on Lake’s shoulder, blinking because I’ve been staring so intently into the darkness. I feel the flame inside me flicker and almost extinguish. Perhaps Alice isn’t coming. Maybe she’s had a change of heart or got scared.
“Who’s that?” Redd asks.
A figure wearing a heavy winter coat with the hood up approaches the bin from the shadows so that I can’t see their face. They’re tall and, judging from their stature, I’m also sure that the figure’s male. It must just be someone looking for the company of one of the working girls, I think to myself.
Following the man as he walks over to the bin, I’m amazed when he picks up the screwed up piece of paper that TJ dropped. I press my face up to the window to see where he goes. I don’t say anything; nobody does. I don’t know whether it’s a good or bad thing. It’s inconceivable that he picked it up by chance, but who is this person that now has the login details to our most important secret? I feel my heart begin to hammer inside my chest as I start to second-guess everything. Should I really have trusted Alice with so much so soon or should I have tested her first to see whether she’s trustworthy; I don’t even really know her. Or maybe Star didn’t join a rival gang and instead ratted to the officials, telling them everything that she knew in exchange for her immunity.
I look over at TJ, who’s now staring directly at us with his eyebrows pulled tightly together in a puzzled expression. Suddenly I notice a second figure move into position behind TJ.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Redd rushes out into the hallway that leads back down towards the street but Lake yells after him. “No. Wait.”
Redd pauses like he’s deciding whether to follow the instruction or his own instincts, and then turns back towards Lake. Lake’s peering out of the window at the drama that’s unfolding in the street, but there is no drama. The man places a large plastic shopping bag with a zip across the top next to TJ and walks off to join his companion. TJ mirrors Lake’s perplexed expression when he looks up at the window again and Redd joins us. TJ looks back and forth between the bag and the window until Lake nods towards the bag and TJ gently picks it up and carries it inside.
Peering back out the window, I try to locate the figures and I spot them at the bottom of the street, standing directly under a lamppost. I watch as one of the men turns back towards the window and pushes his hood back so the light falls on his face and I recognise it.
“It’s him!” I cry out as TJ reenters the room. “It’s the nurse who showed me how to get out of the infirmary.”
I feel the atmosphere in the room lighten and I fight to stifle a giddy laugh.
“Thank god for that,” TJ says, setting the bag down on the bed. “I thought we’d been discovered before we’ve even begun.”
I nod in agreement. “But why didn’t Alice come?”
“Did you see him drop a note?” Redd asks TJ, who shakes his head solemnly.
“What’s in the bag?” I ask, walking over for a closer look. It only takes me to start to unzip the bag for it to become apparent that it’s food.
We inhale a collective breath, savouring the sweet aroma that escapes. All of us dive in almost simultaneously, our greedy hands lifting out clear plastic containers of hot stew and paper bags filled with fried food. We line them up on the bed, gazing at ten containers and five bags of food like they’re pieces of fine art hanging in a gallery. I can feel myself grinning. This is actually going to work, I think to myself and feel my smile grow wider.
“We better re-bag this and get it back to the others,” Lake says.
“Yeah, and you know what misery guts said, if we’re not gone within the hour he’s gonna kick our heads in,” TJ adds, and we all burst into fits of laugher. I’m fairly sure that his comment wasn’t particularly funny, but the relief I feel is intoxicating and I feel lightheaded.
This is actually going to work, I think to myself again as we run back to the others on the rooftop.
***
Lake uncovers each of the containers in turn and sets them down in circle on the roof. We gather tightly around, drawn by the smell, but nobody wants to be the first to indulge. My stomach growls like a caged animal and I know from looking at my bony hands that I’ve lost a considerable amount of weight recently. I’m the first to break the stalemate, plunging my chopsticks into a box of flat noodles, and soon there’s a whirl of chopsticks and groans of pleasure all around me.
“Oh you have to try this,” Neve says, pointing at one of the plastic containers with a chopstick.
I swallow my mouthful and pick up what looks like a deep fried mushroom. As I take a bite a symphony of flavours dance on my tongue; it’s spicy and peppery and simply delicious. I nod in approval and take another bite.
Only when all the food’s been eaten, and I’m satiated for the first time in a week, does my curiosity come back. Why didn’t Alice come or why didn’t they drop a note? Lifting up the now empty bag, I examine it thoroughly inside and out. On the outside of the bag I notice a piece of folded lined paper taped to the side. Pulling it off gently I begin to read the note. The handwriting looks feminine and I scan down to the bottom where I see Alice’s name signed with a heart dotting the ‘i’.
“What’s that?” Lake asks when he notices me reading.
I’m silent for a few moments whilst I read the letter before replying. “It’s a letter from Alice; she says that she was a bit worried about doing the drop and when she spoke to Zaine he said it would be better if he did it anyway because he’s got no connection to me.” I must tell Alice not to use names in the letters, I think to myself. “He took his brother along with him, which must have been the other person.” Lake nods enthusiastically, encouraging me to continue reading as other members fall silent to listen too. “Oh and his brother’s just been made an official but sympathises with our cause after watching his mother struggle to bring up seven children, of which only two survived to adulthood.”
“Fellow outlaws, we have our first spy within the walls,” Dave says in a mock posh voice, raising his empty hand like he’s giving a toast in a gentleman’s club.
“To freedom,” Lake joins in sportingly, raising his hand and a chorus of hear hear ripples through the group.
***
The next twenty-four hours feel like they drag past so slowly that I’m sure someone’s redefined the lexical meaning of twenty-four hours and it now refers to the passing of a millennium. I sit outside in the stairwell for most of the morning with my mother’s diary because I need to get off the roof. I read through the pages more methodically than before but nothing stands out except for the initials F
D that are repeatedly mentioned as being an informant to the officials. I rack my brains trying to think who it might be but I don’t know enough people’s names.
The door to the roof creaks as its pushed open, and I close my mother’s dairy to speak to Lake but I’m surprised when Kim sits down next to me instead. She seems less withdrawn and distant, like the renewed hope has rejuvenated her too.
“I can’t wait to leave this roof. We traded being trapped inside a compound for being confined to a roof,” she says in light voice which does little to disguise the serious undertone of what she’s saying.
I reply honestly. “I agree. I can’t wait to leave either.”
I see a flash of desperation in her eyes. “D’you think it’ll be soon?”
I don’t want to commit myself to a timeframe and risk exceeding it, but equally I want to give Kim something to hold onto. “Yeah probably. I could ask in the next letter if you want?”
I feel a warm pressure hit me from the side as Kim throws her arms tightly around me and squeezes for a moment before releasing. I’ve never been much of a huggy person but it’s nice to see Kim begin to wake up again, and I vow to myself that I’ll get her off the roof as soon as possible.
***
The sunset is painted in burnt orange and pink before the sun finally dips below the ground and darkness falls. It’s decided that only TJ and Redd need to go to the meeting point to retrieve the blueprints. I pace the length of the roof in anxious anticipation of their return until Lake stands directly in my path.
“A watched kettle never boils,” he says. “I don’t recall if the phrase directly pertains to this situation, but I’m fairly sure it still applies.”
We walk over to the edge of the roof and I lean against the wall so that I can look down. Lake takes hold of my shoulders and jerks them forwards, pretending that he’s going to push me off the roof. I throw a casual elbow backwards, catching him in the stomach and hear a slight groan. I smile to myself and feel him wrap his arms around me. The wind whips around us as we stand on the precipice, both literally and metaphorically. I lean my head back onto Lake’s chest and he rests his chin on the top of my head, which I’m not totally okay with.
The horizon feels like it has crawled just a few feet closer tonight. I’m absolutely convinced there’s world beyond the compound and that it has a place for us in it. I find myself thinking about the future. Perhaps I can get a job at a different infirmary, maybe even train to be a doctor. And Lake, what would he do? What could he have been if he’d not been born into this hellhole, not been born the son of an alcoholic or if his mother had lived to raise him. No, not raise him, Lake managed to raise himself into a fine young man, but shelter him so that I might see fewer ghosts behind his eyes.
The sound of the door handle turning is enough to recall me from my deepest thoughts. I rush over to greet the small returning party, assessing first their faces and then scanning their hands. Bringing up the rear I see TJ holding a white carrier bag that contains a slim roll of paper and my fist punches the air.
“We saw them moving away from the bin as we approached it, but we couldn’t find it for ages because we were looking for a cardboard box,” Redd says in a tone that could have been annoyance if it weren’t swamped by the elation of having retrieved the printed map.
“Maybe they thought we might be in for some rain,” TJ adds, looking up at the sky. “They’re probably right.”
We jostle for position, like iron filings held in place by a magnetic force. Wherever TJ moves so do we until he places the roll of white paper on the floor. Lake holds two corners firm to the ground whilst TJ unrolls the rest. The rooftop is silent so I can not only see my breath but hear it too. When the map is unrolled I find myself holding my breath as the blue ink reveals not only how many floors buildings have, but also every point of access.
My attention’s captured by one building in particular and I realise that I’m looking at the blueprint for the governor’s building, only it has more floors than I’d realised because one of them is underground. It caught my attention because above the building is a symbol that I recognise instantly. It looks somewhere between a set of weighing scales and the letter H which I’d thought might have been an initial for my mother’s first name, Honeysuckle, when I saw the symbol engraved on the key that hangs around my neck.
I look up to tell the others, but they’re deep in conversation.
“This is what I was talking about,” Redd says in a patronising voice. “So if we break access here,” he jabs the map violently, “Then we can just walk out.” With a smirk he drags his finger along a pipe and under the wall surrounding the compound.
“That’s great,” Neve replies in a silky voice that makes me think that she’s going to annihilate him in her next breath. “Except I feel compelled to point out a few things. Firstly, when you say ‘break access here’,” she says, making air quotes with her fingers. “I’ve never seen this point, and from my rudimentary knowledge of drainage systems this leads me to believe that it’s about five feet underground.” She pauses for breath, but not long enough for Redd to think of a comeback. “What’s more, how do you know that these pipes are wide enough to fit through because they only transport liquid? And finally, as you said yourself, these pipes contain sewage which produces extremely noxious gases. This pipe looks to be over a mile long, so we’d probably be overcome before we got out and that’s not how I pictured my death.”
“You wanna die in here?” Redd snaps back.
“Oh yeah, that’s totally what I was saying,” Neve snarls, rising to the bait.
“Does anyone know what this symbol means?” I shout above the squabble that’s breaking out.
Both Neve and Redd turn to look at me, but I don’t think it’s because they’re genuinely interested in the symbol, more interested in why I’ve interrupted them. I see Lake smile out of the corner of my eye but he shrugs his shoulders.
“No, never seen it before. Why?” Lake asks.
“Because when I went to visit Jo, at the same time that she gave me my mother’s diary she also gave me a key that belonged to my mother. She didn’t know what it opened and neither do I, but it has this symbol engraved on it,” I say, producing the key from around my neck.
“Wow,” Dave exclaims from somewhere to my right, immediately moving closer to get a better look. “That’s really unusual, where did your mother get that?”
“What is it?” Lake asks.
“I think it’s one of the keys issued to the governors,” Dave replies.
“Whatever it unlocks must be important for my mother to have kept it all those years, passed it onto Rosaline and then for Rosaline to pass it onto Jo,” I add, staring thoughtfully at the governor’s building on the map.
Chapter Twenty-Three
TJ follows my gaze to the governor’s building on the map. “Could the key give us access to the governor’s building?” he wonders aloud, but Lake answers.
“No, they don’t have a lock. There’s a security guard there twenty-four hours a day and access is granted on facial identification alone. However, I do think that it opens something important inside the building, a room or a cabinet perhaps.”
“Aren’t there any other ways into the building?” asks Redd, as he studies the map closely.
“No, and the windows are barred” Lake replies
I sigh and rock back on my heels. “So it’s useless then.”
“Not exactly. The governors elected for a security guard over a machine because they’re less easily duped, but what they haven’t considered is that the security guard could do the duping,” Lake says in a slow and thoughtful voice, like an idea’s forming inside his mind as he speaks.
“So what you’re saying is that we need to get the security guard to join us and then grant us access?” I ask.
“Yep. This would be even better because they could tell us where to go and where we would be likely to run into people. They might even be able to tel
l us what the key unlocks.”
“But how are we going to do this?” Redd interrupts. “I bet the security guard’s on loads of money in exchange for his silence about the things he sees and hears. Why would they put themselves at risk?”
Lake breaks away to study the map again, but I can see that the idea is still burning brightly in his mind.
***
As the sunlight begins to fade, the group divides into smaller friendship groups. I sit in a small circle with Neve and TJ, whilst Dave deals out a pack of cards between us. We play Texas hold ’em poker, but no one has any money to gamble so we play for honour and glory for which I’m especially grateful because I haven’t been dealt a good card yet. TJ shuffles the cards with nimble fingers before dealing them out to the group. I pull up the corner of my first card to get a sneaky peak and I’m disappointed to see the two of diamonds lying there for the second hand in a row. What are the odds of that? Well, one in fifty-two actually, but that’s beside the point. I wait for Dave to deal the second card and pick them up together. Fantastic, the two of diamonds and the seven of clubs. It’s one of the worst hands you can get dealt in poker, with no chance of a flush because they’re unsuited or a straight because they’re too far apart. I consider staying in to see the flop, hoping against the odds that two sevens will turn up, but my temper takes control and I throw them down in anger.
“Another hand not worth playing,” I yell.
Dave laughs at me. “Well you’re the dealer next so deal yourself some good cards.”
I purse my lips tightly together to watch the flop, and feel vindicated when not a single seven is revealed. My own words echo in my mind. A hand not worth playing. They take upon a profound meaning when I think about the compound; that’s what we’ve all been dealt, a hand not worth playing and we’re trying to do what I just did, to throw our cards in.
***
The game draws to a close with me unarguably in last place, leaving Dave and TJ to bicker about who came first. Neve leans over my shoulder to see what I’m doodling on one of the pages of my mother’s diary. I’ve drawn the two of diamonds and the seven of clubs with a scroll around them that reads, ‘A hand not worth playing.’ She looks perplexed so I explain that it’s a metaphor for the compound.