Becoming (12 page)

‘Will you be able to swim? That’s going to be the best way now.’

‘I’ll try, but I won’t be able to do much with this leg.’

They began to paddle towards the shore. Clara was a strong swimmer, they all were, and though her injured leg was useless her strong upper body and other leg were effective. Clara looked more comfortable now, far more than walking. The mainland was close, and the others had made it to the beach. Gaia could hear them shouting words of guidance and encouragement from the shore. She could just make out the three dark silhouettes. Gaia dived forward into the freezing water, knowing that the biggest danger would be the temperature. No matter how fit or strong a swimmer the body could shut down with the shock, slipping into a downward spiral of paralysis and drowning. The water was not that deep, but the cold meant anything was possible. Gaia’s body was numb and shivering already, but it meant submerging in the icy waters was not such a shock. It gave her some time, not much, but maybe enough.

Gaia stretched her arms forward, pulling herself closer to the shore stroke by stroke. Her legs kicked as best they could, though most of the feeling in them had gone. As she moved, her mind began to drift, still trying to stay focused on the strokes, one by one. Gaia slipped into a half dream, a cold delirium, here in the water, but somewhere else. Visions flashed through her head, random images of memories, dark, distant memories, of shadows.

Gaia was in a room, in a glass box. She was tiny, lying on her back, just a baby, aware of movement around her, but helpless. There were sounds, unfamiliar at first and difficult to fathom. The baby was reaching out, trying to get attention, crying. Gaia could hear her muffled cries as they echoed around the glass chamber. No-one came, no-one saw to her, no-one comforted her. A light glared above Gaia’s head, an intense, blazing light, dazzling her eyes, blinding her. She was not alone, and could make out shadows moving beyond the glass. There were other glass boxes in the room, many of them. The other sounds became clearer. They were cries, like her own, all smothered by the glass walls of the individual cells. These were the first prison cells of each young child, each baby, each life. It was the beginning of what was to come, the beginning of their unfolding future. 

Gaia felt something scrape against her legs and lower body. She put her hands down in the sea, and could feel the ground below her. It was solid ground. Her mouth was filled with water, her lungs desperate for air. Gaia’s stomach felt heavy with the salty liquid, as nausea swept through her. Someone grabbed her arm and shoulders, one at each side. Gaia was being dragged from the sea, her cold, exhausted body. Her legs were limp and useless dragging behind. The others turned Gaia over onto her side, as she gasped for air, lungs burning with each icy breath, Gaia coughed and vomited, a mixture of the bitter, salty sea and acidic stomach bile. Rolling onto her back, Gaia opened her eyes and saw the outlines of dark shadows standing over. There were voices. Loud, frantic cries some near, some far. Her mind was struggling to make sense of the surroundings. There was no glass chamber, no blazing light, only the moon. The large crystal moon was a pure, brilliant white. A light hanging in the sky, smiling down at her. The memories came flooding back, the island, the beach, the causeway, the escape. Gaia was on the mainland. They had made it. This was the beach, the coarse sand touching her hands. Gaia remembered Clara, and heard the cries, the frantic cries, the distant cries, the echoes in the night. They were calling her name: ‘
Clara! Clara!‘
Gaia gasped for air and muttered some words.

‘Is Clara OK? Did she make it? Clara! Clara!’

Gaia heard a voice. It was one of the shadows above talking, comforting her, trying to calm her. It was a girl’s voice, but not Clara’s. It was Freya.

‘Try to stay calm Gaia. You made it. You’re safe now. Stay awake though. If you feel yourself going don’t. Look at me and concentrate on my voice. Listen to me Gaia. Stay with us.’

Gaia felt Freya strike her face a couple of times. They were firm slaps, more than enough to shock, but not to hurt. Gaia still felt the sting on her icy cheeks. Gaia whispered to Freya.

‘What about Clara? Did she make it?’

‘Don’t worry about Clara for now. Aran and Yann are looking for her.’

‘What do you mean looking for her? Is she OK?’

Gaia tried to sit up, but her body was aching and exhausted, the muscles and bones weak. Her mind was sending the signals, but they were dead, cut off by the cold and tiredness. Freya put her hand on Gaia’s shoulder.

‘Don’t Gaia. Rest. There’s nothing you can do. Aran and Yann will find her.’

Gaia lay there listening to Freya’s words. Freya was close, but the words seemed distant, echoes floating into the night air. Gaia waited, her body still stiff and aching, waiting for news of Clara. That’s all Gaia wanted to hear and know, that Clara was found, safe. The minutes themselves seemed wrapped in the same blanket of freezing paralysis. They hung in limbo, the crumbling sands of the hourglass trapped inside a glass tomb. The world had stopped turning, the moon paused in its journey across the sky, no longer sliding through the night and plunging into the horizon. All was lifeless, still. Everything waited for the sign, the moment when time could move on again. They were all waiting for Clara.

Freya knelt beside Gaia. Freya was silent now, her words had dissolved into the blackness. Two shadows approached, their heads dropped, shoulders lowered in sorrow and dismay. They stood over Freya and Gaia. Both were numb, not wanting to speak, not wishing to utter the words, to confirm what they all knew. Gaia asked the question.

‘Did you find her?’

There was a pause, long and silent. There was no wind, no breath, no sound, nothing. Time remained frozen. They were all locked together in this moment. Aran crouched down and took Gaia’s hand.

‘I’m sorry Gaia. We couldn’t save her. We tried. I nearly had her but something happened.’

Aran’s voice trailed off in despair, faltering and fading to a cracked whisper. Gaia spoke, her voice calm, resigned to what she had known. The full impact had not yet sunk into her exhausted mind.

‘What do you mean something happened?’

‘I don’t know. She just disappeared. We’ve looked everywhere up and down the shoreline, but there was nothing.’

Gaia struggled to process the words. She unpicked them, twisted them, turned them over and over again in her head. They were clear, but there was something missing. However much she rolled them over still they meant the same thing. Clara was gone, but how? All she kept hearing was
I’m sorry. Something happened. She just disappeared. There was nothing.
Something happened. Something happened. She just disappeared.
What did he mean? She spoke again, her voice more desperate.

‘What happened? I don’t understand. How could she just disappear?’

Aran was rubbing his face with his hands, shaking his head, not wanting to answer, not wanting to think about it, unable to make sense of it. His head was swamped, a mixture of confusion, sorrow and guilt. Aran forced the words out, his voice frail almost a whimper.

‘We saw you both, you weren’t that far away, nearly at the shoreline. Freya and Yann went to get you, and I went for Clara. She was struggling, but she was almost there. I put my arm out, I was sure she’d made it. I was almost there and then…’

His voice tailed off again and he paused. His eyes were distant, as though somewhere else, running through those last moments in his head, just to be sure.

‘As I reached for her she was just gone in an instant, dragged under.’

Gaia sat up, pain shuddering through her body.

‘What do you mean dragged under?’

‘Dragged under. By something. She reached out her hand, and I almost had it, but her whole body was yanked away. She screamed and disappeared. There was nothing I could have done. I had no time to react. Something grabbed her leg and dragged her under. I saw the shadow in the water.’

The silence closed in and smothered them. Gaia’s mind drifted back to the beach on the island, her beach, the beach she had spent hours staring out at the sea. During those hours spent dreaming of freedom there had always been something that troubled her. Gaia had seen things, movements in the water, dark shadows and flashes just above the surface. There was something there, something lurking beneath the waves. It was large, fast, patrolling the waters. This had always been her greatest fear. It was the main reason she had not tried to escape earlier. Crossing the sea would mean facing the creatures in the water. The causeway had given her hope. There was another way to escape, a safer way. In the relief of knowing this Gaia had forgotten all about this danger. The creatures had taken Clara. Another life lost that night, and both because of Gaia. One a predator, the other a victim, but both were at Gaia’s hand.

‘It’s all my fault. I should never have brought her. She’s dead because of me.’

Aran gripped her hand, pressed it with both of his.

‘Don’t think like that Gaia. There was nothing you could do. You had to bring her. You had no choice. We knew this was going to be dangerous.’

‘
We
knew it and it was
our
choice. We were prepared to take the risk, but Clara didn’t have any choice. I forced her to come along. I made her, and now she’s dead. She begged me to leave her on the island. Begged me not to take her across the causeway, but I wouldn’t listen. It should have been me, not her.’

Tears ran down Gaia’s face, warm tears that trickled a path through her ice cold cheeks. Aran held her hand, squeezing it, trying to make her forgive, desperate to help her through this.

‘No Gaia! It was all of us. We’ll deal with this together. Somehow we’ll get through this. Any one of us could have changed this, but we didn’t. We all agreed to bring Clara with us. I left it too late, and we cut it too fine. I should have realised. I should have given us more time for any delays, so we still had time to get across. Don’t blame yourself for this.’

Yann stood in the background, head bowed. Freya was still crouched beside Gaia, the other side of Aran who was still pressing Gaia’s hand. Freya spoke.

‘What happened to Clara. None of us could have known, and we can’t change it. It’s done. She’s gone. Now we have to choose. Either we stay here and mourn, or we make a move and deal with this together as we go. We’ve come this far, we made it across. Let’s push on, but let’s make a move quickly. We’re out in the open here and losing our advantage. The leaders will be coming for us soon.’

Aran let go of Gaia’s hand and sat back onto the sand.

‘Freya’s right. We make our way inland, find a safe place and we’ll deal with this then. We need to give ourselves a good head start. As soon as they find out we’ve gone they’ll start the hunt. Once they get word to the mainland there’ll be a lot of them after us. Can you walk?’

Gaia stretched her legs, grabbing Freya’s hand and lifting herself forward. Gaia’s clothes were soaked and clung to her skin. She was shivering, and though her lungs were clear she still felt queasy from the saltwater. Freya passed Gaia something. It was an oatmeal bar, mixed with fruit and bound with honey. Gaia nibbled, tasting the honey and chewing at the tough texture of the oats and fruit. Gaia’s jaw was stiff, but she managed to swallow, feeling the rough texture scrape down the gullet and hit the pit of the stomach. Freya spoke.

‘That’ll give you some energy.’

‘Thanks.’

Aran and Freya helped Gaia to her feet. She steadied herself against them. Her head was dizzy, spinning from the surge of blood pumping round the veins. The group stood together and looked out at the sea, at Clara’s grave. They waited awhile, heads bowed, lost in silent thought. Yann whispered under his breath, Freya clasped her hands together in front. Aran put his arm around Gaia and held her close, Gaia’s head resting on his shoulder. Gaia did not know Clara, their paths had been forged together through circumstance, through Hakan.

Gaia could just make out the shadow of the island in the distance. She looked up and down the beach, bathed in white moonlight. The sand was smooth, with only a few rocks and pebbles. Their footprints were the only disturbance on the golden velvet carpet. Just down from where the group stood there was a small wooden hut. In front of it was the barrier and start of the causeway, the road stretching back onto the mainland. The hut was derelict, long since abandoned, of no use in the new world. The island had few visitors, and even fewer left. The road leading away from the causeway was lined with overgrown hedgerows which protected large ragged, grassy fields. There was no sign of anyone else. The only sound was the waves crashing against the shoreline, making their presence known echoing against the moonlit sky. The dark isolation felt ominous. Aran broke the quiet.

‘Are we good to go?’

Aran took Gaia’s hand and pressed it against his forehead. It was a simple gesture, a connection, one of reassurance and affection. Aran knew the death of Clara would weigh heavy on them all, but more so on Gaia. The pressures of the evening had thrust a heavy burden upon the group, something they could not cast aside. Gaia had crossed a line, had murdered to get this far. Aran knew what the others did not. They were all following Aran’s lead, his plan and direction. The others followed him, but not Gaia. She carried a different burden, the weight of her actions. Gaia had blood on her hands, and Aran knew how she must feel. The group had a lot to deal with, but could not sit and dwell. They could deal with the emotion in the days ahead when they reached their destination, the freedom of the new community. Gaia knew this too. Despite the guilt and heartache of Clara’s loss indecision now would make everything in vain. Gaia spoke, her voice just above a whisper, still cracked with emotion.