Impersonator (Forager Impersonator - A Post Apocalyptic Trilogy Book 1) (18 page)

When I got home, Mother was kneeling on the floor, making adjustments to one of her dresses. Karen was languishing in a chair, her latest cross-stitch creation lying untouched on her lap while she stared aimlessly into space. I was glad we had the common sense to bring our sewing kits with us. To have left those behind would have been a crime.

I dragged a chair over beside them, swore them to secrecy, and gave them the good news about the planned escape. Well, I thought it was good news. Mother just about had an apoplectic fit, and it took me half an hour to calm her down enough to listen to the rest of it. Our plan to get past the Custodians at the gate, the store of supplies outside the town for the trip to Ballarat, and the freedoms we’d enjoy once we got there.

“But most importantly,” I said, in conclusion, “We’ll be free of this debt and the constant threat posed by Deacon and his pet dog. Also means I won’t have to risk being arrested for impersonating Brandon anymore.”

Mother paced the room for several minutes, and then turned to face me. “If – and I mean if – I let you do this, you have to promise me you’ll find your brother and take him with you. Otherwise he will be their next target.”

“Haven’t you been listening to me, Mother? The whole point of this is that we all go. Anyone staying behind would be Deacon’s next target.”

“I want to come. I don’t want to spend another day in this hole. The grime and dirt, the slop they call food, and having nothing worthwhile to do.” Karen looked defiantly at Mother, daring her to refuse her request.

“You’ll come too, right, Mother?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I’m too set in my ways, not to mention too old to go trekking all the way to Ballarat. Besides, I have to wait for your father to get out of prison.”

I was dumbfounded. “After all he’s done to us, and all you’ve said about him, you want to wait for him?”

“He is my husband, Eldest Daughter. It is my duty.”

“But what about Deacon? He’ll come after you if we’re all gone,” I said.

She shook her head. “No, he won’t. If you and Brandon are gone, there’d be no point, since women cannot earn an income.”

“But Mother, like I told you previously, they said if we can’t pay up, they’d take the money out of us in other ways. I’m sure you know what they meant.”

“I will not go, and that’s the end of it. I will consider letting you three go – but that is all.”

I was about to protest more, but she held up her hand, silencing me.

I nodded, but I wasn’t giving up. I would keep on her case until the day of the breakout. However, if she did remain behind, it meant someone would be there for Father when they let him out. As angry as I was with him, I found that thought comforting.

* * *

We hit the market the next day. Karen and I were on the hunt for new walking shoes, while Mother came as chaperone, since she was past the age needing to be chaperoned herself.

The market was a large open area filled with stalls, surrounded on all sides by brick-and-mortar stores, and was frequented by hundreds of shoppers, mostly women. A couple of squads of Custodians patrolled the area too, ready to pounce on any shoplifters or pickpockets. Too often in the past, I had witnessed their brutality as they apprehended criminals, striking them with gun butts if their quarry resisted in any way.

We threaded our way through stalls selling genetically enhanced vegetables and fruits, raw and cooked chicken, soy products, clothes, bedding, kitchen utensils and garden tools. We tried on a few pairs of sneakers in the stalls. They were cheap but very poor quality. Some were so shoddily put together they’d fall apart after a few kilometres, while others had irregularities that would cause agonising blisters.

In the end, we had to shop at one of the brick-and-mortar stores, where we found exactly what we needed. The only catch was that they were very expensive. I had to spend almost all the money Brandon gave me. We also had to deflect the shopkeeper’s suspicions about why two girls were buying men’s sneakers.

“For when we are gardening,” I told him.

Our new shoes hidden in shopping bags, we stopped at one of the outdoor food vendors and bought a nutritious lunch of wholemeal bread, tofu cake, nuts and dried fruits.

I was putting the plastic take-away container in my bag when a shadow blocked out the sun. I staggered back in alarm, only to relax when I saw who it was.

“Ah, good afternoon, Mrs Thomas, Chelsea, Karen.” Ryan said. He appeared surprised to see us.

“Ryan,” my Mother said, clearly uncomfortable.

Karen nodded shyly in greeting, I met his gaze and raised an eyebrow. I was impressed that he didn’t glance at my birthmark this time.

“Doing a bit of shopping?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation.

“That is the reason one comes to the market,” Mother replied. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have much to do.”

“I can actually see you out here, Chelsea,” he said quickly, before we could move away. “It was pretty dark in the shelter.”

“Is that a good thing?” I asked. I deliberately ignored Mother, who was glaring at Ryan for having the audacity to speak to a young woman who was not a family member, especially in public.

He laughed nervously. “Actually, you look like the female version of your brother.”

“What? Are you saying I look like a boy?”

“No!” He looked terrified.

“Then are you saying my brother looks like a girl?”

“No!”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I, ah...” He ran a hand through his hair, a dozen emotions fleeing across his handsome face.

I was amused by the sight of this amazing, overly capable guy tongue-tied because of me.

“It’s pretty obvious you’re twins, that’s all,” he finally managed.

“Oh, relax, Ryan, I was just messing with you. You’re not the first to point that out.” I rewarded him with a grin. He returned it, clearly relieved.

“Daughter, that is enough,” Mother said, indicating we should be going.

Ryan turned to my mother. “My apologies, Mrs. Thomas. Actually, I was hoping to have a word with Brandon. Is he here, somewhere? I really need to ask him something.” He looked quite concerned, so it took a great deal of self-control to refrain from asking him what it was about.

“He left the shelter early this morning. He did not say where he was going,” Mother said.

“Right, thanks, Mrs. Thomas. Well, be seeing you all.” He flashed a shy smile in my direction and was gone, lost in the crowd.

Staring wistfully in Ryan’s direction, I didn’t notice the lady and her daughter until I had almost walked into them.

“Excuse, me,” the lady said when I made eye contact. “But would you happen to be Brandon Thomas’ twin sister?”

“Why, yes. Is it really that obvious?” I laughed nervously. Who were these people?

“I’m afraid so.” She laughed with me and nodded in greeting to my mother and sister. “And I’m sorry, you must be wondering who this strange woman is, accosting you in public like this. I’m Margaret Smith, and this is my daughter, Lucy. I recognised you because your brother was friends with my son, Dan.”

The penny dropped. This was Dan Smith’s mother! My hands flew to my mouth. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Smith. Brandon mentioned what happened.”

“How is Brandon coping? It must be hard on all of them,” she said.

“Nothing compared to what your family must be going through. Please accept our sincerest condolences,” my mother said.

“Thank you,” Margaret said. “It was such a tragedy, Dan passing away just when he was finally
getting his life in order. All thanks to the magistrate's leniency in putting him on probation instead of in prison when he was caught shoplifting a couple of months ago. The weekly visits to the HQ to see his Custodian Probation Officer did him a world of good, too. He stopped listening to his father and me some time ago. ”

“I’m so sorry.” I felt terrible for their loss, reflecting that foraging really wasn’t the best career choice. What if an accident like that happened to Brandon? I’d be absolutely devastated.

“Thank you, my dear. Well, we will be off now. Just wanted to say hello and see how Brandon was doing.”

* * *

Having spent the better part of the morning at the market, we headed home around lunchtime. When we walked through the shelter’s gates, sudden movement behind the large blue hopper caught my eye. Brandon’s head appeared and he gestured me over before dropping back out of sight.

“Can you two go on ahead? I’ll be up soon,” I said as I handed my bag to Karen.

I made my way inconspicuously over to Brandon, aware that several other residents lounged on the lawn. Ducking behind the large bin, I found him sitting cross-legged behind it. He looked a bit better than the last time I saw him. Seemed my lecture about eating better had gotten through.

“You ready to rejoin the real world yet?” I asked. I grabbed an empty cardboard box beside the bin, folded it flat, and sat on it. I didn’t want to get my dress dirty.

He shook his head and handed over a large plastic bag. “Just came to give you this.”

The bag was filled with fresh bread, vegetables, fruit, peanuts and cashews, and three small bottles of soymilk, which we would have to drink today, since we had no fridge. “Thanks. You keep some for yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. You’ve got some more colour in your face today, at least.”

He smiled weakly.

I told him about the plan to escape town, and that I wanted him to come with us. I saw hope blossom in his eyes, but it faded away just as quickly. He pumped me for more details, worried we may be making a huge mistake. But after I answered his questions, he seemed satisfied.

“You going to come?” I asked.

“Probably, maybe...I don’t know.” He looked troubled rather than crestfallen. Not the reaction I had expected.

“Hey, instead of trying to work through the emotional trauma created by Dan’s death by yourself, why don’t you go back to work on Monday and tell the boss what you’re going through. You told me once that foragers have free access to Newhome psychologists. That’s right, isn’t it?”

He looked down and dragged his fingers through the dirt covering the concrete. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“You can’t just keep hiding like this!”

“You think I don’t know that? My mind is going around in never ending circles trying to find a way out of this. It’s driving me nuts!” he said.

“A  psychologist–”

“No!”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn, Brandon?”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t!”

There was an awkward silence.

“Hey, never guess who I bumped into at the market today.” I decided to change the topic.

“Surprise me.”

“Dan Smith’s mother.”

His head snapped up in alarm.

“She asked how you were coping with Dan’s accident.”

“Oh.”

“She’s heartbroken, the poor lady, as you can well imagine. Even more so because Dan turned his life around recently, after being convicted of shoplifting. She said the magistrate’s leniency of putting him on probation instead of in prison, plus his weekly visits to the Probation Officer in the Custodian HQ made a world of difference.”

Brandon jolted as though he’d been struck and the blood drained from his face. “What did you just say?”

I said it again.

Brandon leaped to his feet and paced frantically up and down in the small enclosure behind the bin, running his hands through his hair, his face ashen.

I stood as well. “What’s going on?”

“This is a nightmare, Chelz, a nightmare! We thought he was a Custodian informant. We thought he was a Custodian informant!”

I grabbed him and pulled him around to face me. I realised his whole body was shaking. “What are you talking about, Brandy!”

“A few weeks ago I spotted Dan going to the Custodian HQ. I feared the worse and told Con. He freaked out and told me to follow Dan every day after work. I found out that he went to the HQ every Tuesday.”

“So what?” I couldn’t see where he was going with this.

“So Con and Matt concluded he was a Custodian informer, ratting on our illegal smuggling efforts in return for money.” His shaking intensified. “But from what you’ve just told me, we got it all wrong – he wasn’t an informer, he was on probation! What have we done, Chelz, what have we done?”

“What exactly
did
you do?” I was getting a bad feeling about this.

“Don’t you get it, Chelz? They arranged for him to have an accident. Made a wall fall on him – crushed him to death.” He looked at me, and with tears streaming down his face, resuming his frantic pacing.

“That was Con, Matt and Jack, right? You weren’t directly involved, where you? No, of course not.” I refused to believe my twin brother could ever be part of such a heinous crime. At the same time, I was deeply shocked to learn the others had killed Dan. That he was innocent of what they suspected him of made it even worse. The poor guy, he trusted them, he thought they were his friends.