Outside (17 page)

Chapter Twenty Three

Eleanor

*

Suddenly, the speed at which worldwide events unfolded was like someone had pressed a fast-forward button, spooling us crazily towards a too-scary ending. The attacks hadn
’
t stopped and no one knew if they were carried out by the same networks, or if new terror groups around the world were taking advantage of the confusion.

Three weeks later at four in the morning, an army convoy of trucks rolled through our sleepy village on their way to assist with all the border closures being put into effect. But not all the vehicles kept on rolling.

One camouflage truck stopped at the end of our lane and a small unit of soldiers silently jogged up the pavement towards our house. Samuel was among them.

Crisis point had been reached and so all traditional military protocol had been abandoned. NCOs and Privates had been automatically upgraded to make way for the newly enlisted. Nothing familiar could be relied upon and personal freedom was now a thing of the past.

The military unit came into our house. They told my parents they wanted Connor. My parents told the officer in charge that Connor wasn't in the house, but they didn't believe us and searched each room.

We remonstrated with the soldiers. Sleep was misting up my brain but outrage woke me up. I followed one of the soldiers into my room, asking him what he thought he was doing. I wanted to run to Connor’s camper van and warn him, but I knew that to do so would be to reveal his whereabouts. It was too late anyway. Connor had heard the commotion and had opened the shiny red door to his van.

I stared out of my bedroom window as he stood there in his boxer shorts, confused and sleepy. He pulled an old grey t shirt over his head. One of the soldiers outside shouted to the others. They poured out of the house. Connor looked small and alone, squinting downwards and shielding his eyes with his arm, as they shone a torch into his face. They took him away immediately, with no regard for his dignity or comfort.

‘
What are you doing?
’
I screamed from my bedroom window and ran, almost falling downstairs. My brothers shouted at them and my parents tried to calm us all down.
‘
What
’
s going on? Why have they got you, Connor?
’
I ran across the front lawn towards him in my bare feet. Two fresh-faced soldiers barred my way, unmoved by my tears.

I saw Samuel and my hopes soared.
‘
Sam!
’
I shouted.
‘
Why have they got Connor? Tell them! Tell them they
’
ve got the wrong person!
’

But he refused to catch my eye and didn
’
t say a word. It hit me then with a bitter punch. I couldn
’
t believe it, but I knew the truth.

‘
You bastard!
’
I wanted to bite and scratch and kick and hit him until there was nothing left.
‘
You did this! Connor has done nothing! Nothing. Why would you do such an evil thing?
’

It was clear to me then, that this was all Samuel’s doing. He had gotten Connor arrested under some false pretence. I could only pray and hope they would find no evidence to back it up. That Samuel was only trying to scare him and would release him soon. My father spoke to two of the soldiers, but they wouldn
’
t give him any reason for the arrest. They took Connor
’
s camper van and drove it away. My brothers picked me up off the dew-sodden lawn and carried me back into the house.

Chapter Twenty Four

Riley

*

About twenty minutes later, Rebecca returns.

‘You two alright?’ she asks.

I nod.

‘You’re brother and sister are you?’

‘Yeah. Our mum and dad were killed a few months back, by raiders.’ Luc feeds her the cover story we worked out earlier.

‘Oh, you poor things.’ She sits down and gives us a sympathetic smile. ‘Where are you staying?’

‘Well, we’re looking for a place. We’ve been on the road for a while.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Sixteen,’ Luc lies.

She turns to me.

‘Fourteen,’ I say, colouring. Obviously I’m not as good an actor as Luc.

We’re banking on the fact that as we’re roughly the same ages as Freddie and Lissy, we’ll be housed with or near them. We’re also assuming that accommodation will be according to gender and so we’re prepared to be split up. That’s the part I’m dreading - being alone without Luc to back me up.

I’m quickly becoming more and more in awe of him. He’s rational and practical, while I’m hot-headed and impulsive. He seems so focused and certain while I’m a mass of nerves. My head is swimming with fear at what could happen to us.

‘You know,’ she says. ‘You’re very welcome to stay here for the night. We’ve plenty of room.’

‘Really?’

‘It’s no problem.’

‘Is this some kind of compound then?’ Luc asks.

‘Yes, in a way it is. We’ve rescued hundreds of people who have no place left to turn. We think of ourselves as an oasis in the wilderness, offering food, shelter and protection.’

‘Sounds amazing,’ I say.

‘Well, come on, you must be tired. Shall I show you to your quarters?’ She stands and gestures to the building behind her.

We follow her into the house, which is actually some kind of work room. Several women, maybe ten or twelve of them, all similar in appearance to Rebecca, sit at desks and tables. Some are writing and some are reading; the majority are sewing clothing. None of them talk, they’re all quietly engaged in their tasks, but most of them glance up and smile as we thread our way through to the door on the far side of the room.

As we walk through the door, a young man in his late teens greets us. His appearance is unremarkable and he’s dressed in unflattering beige trousers and a short-sleeved white cotton shirt. He asks Luc to follow him. I make to go after them, but Rebecca touches my arm.

‘I'm afraid the men and women's quarters are in separate buildings. Don't worry, you'll see your brother later.’

Luc gives me a reassuring smile and a penetrating stare that gives me some comfort. Suddenly, I have an inappropriate image of us together, his lips on mine. I don’t know where it came from but I shake the thought away.

‘Don't worry, Riley,’ he says. ‘I'm sure Rebecca will look after you. I'll see you later.’

I take a breath and study my surroundings as Luc told me to do. We’re in a gravel courtyard, much bigger than the one at the entrance. It’s rectangular, with a building on each side, mostly in shade, with just a few small squares of sunlight on the ground. A cloud blots the sun for an instant and I shiver and hug my goose-bumped arms. I’m only dressed in a t shirt and shorts, and wish I’d thought to bring a jumper or cardigan.

Luc is taken off to the right, to a long low red brick house. His trainers crunch loudly over the gravel, until he disappears through a dark green painted wooden door. Rebecca watches them go and then she asks me to follow her. We walk directly across the courtyard into an imposing building, four storeys high, with wide steps leading up to a set of grand double doors.

We enter a large dim wood-panelled hallway with a wide staircase. It smells musty and slightly of sweaty feet. The kitchen must be somewhere at the end of the hallway, as I can hear clanking pots and pans and distant busy voices. Rebecca leads me up two flights of stairs to a shabby landing with a worn patterned carpet and about eight closed doors. It’s gloomy and quiet.

She knocks on the door immediately at the top of the stairs. A plump girl opens it. She’s wearing a dark grey A-line skirt with a grey shirt tucked in. Around her neck hangs an iron cross, the same colour as her shirt. Her hair is pulled back into a lank ponytail and she’s got angry-looking acne on her cheeks and chin.

‘Martha,’ says Rebecca. ‘This is Riley, she'll be staying tonight.’

‘Riley is it?’ Martha glares at me, her mouth pulled downwards. ‘Is that short for anything?’

‘No, it's just Riley.’

‘Right.’ She hmmphs. ‘Follow me then. We'll get you settled.’

‘I'll see you, Riley,’ says Rebecca, turning to go. ‘Martha will look after you now.’

‘But I'll see you later won't I?’ I ask Rebecca, unwilling to have a seemingly kind woman replaced by this unfriendly girl.

‘I'm afraid not,’ Rebecca replies, already halfway down the stairs. ‘You don't need me anymore.’ She gazes up regretfully and then hurries down and out of view, her footsteps receding.

I brace myself. This, after all, is what I was expecting from the outset anyway. But our initial welcome had softened me up a bit. I have to remember why I’m really here and what I’m supposed to do. Martha points towards a room in the middle of the corridor.

‘There's the bathroom. Take a shower. There are some clean clothes on the back of the door. If you leave your clothes in the basket, I'll have them washed for you. Come and knock on my door when you've finished.’

I do as she asks and soon I’m clean, smelling of the harsh soap, and dressed identically to Martha, minus the cross and still wearing my flip flops. The clothes fit me okay, but there’s no mirror so I can't really tell how awful I look. I take a deep breath and knock on Martha’s door. She regards me and hmmphs her approval. Then she steps out onto the landing and locks her door.

‘Follow me,’ she orders.

I follow her to the other end of the corridor where she opens another door. I expect to see another room, but instead there’s a small dark, wooden, winding staircase leading down.

*

It’s been two days and I’ve heard no mention and seen no trace of Luc, Liss or Freddie. Everybody I’ve met so far has biblical names and it’s entirely likely that Freddie and Liss's names have been changed, which will make it an almost impossible task to locate them. I hope Luc’s having more luck than me; the alternative doesn't bear thinking about. What if I never get out of this strange half-asleep place?

I’ve been assigned to the Nursery, which is actually an okay job, if exhausting. All The Close's children are taken from their parents at the age of two and housed together in the Nursery. They’re separated into age groups until they’re nine, when they are split by gender. I’m taking care of the three to five-year olds. There are twenty four of them, looked after by four of us: myself, an older woman and two women in their twenties.

Nothing has been explained to me, other than the actual duties I’ve been assigned. Any questions I ask are met with a vague smile and an unenlightening change of subject. Everyone’s on autopilot and there’s no small talk, chatter or gossip - they simply get on with their duties in a kind, but firm manner. The children all behave immaculately.

I sleep in one of the dormitories on Martha's floor. There are four bunks in my room, sleeping eight girls who are around the age of fourteen. I have hardly spoken to any of them, as they come in long after I go to bed and are still asleep when I get up to report for work at the Nursery. They obviously work a different shift to me.

I tried talking to a couple of them last night, but they were just as vague and dreamy as my co-workers. I’m getting a bit panicky now, worrying that I’m going to be stuck here forever, turning into a version of these half-alive women and girls. It’s not scary or dangerous here, but it doesn’t feel right either. It’s too quiet and emotionless. It’s like the life has been sucked out of everyone.

It’s my third morning here and I’ve just reached the bottom of the dark winding staircase that takes me from my dormitory to the maze of buildings where the Nursery is located, when I see a figure in the corner. My heart skips a beat when I realise it’s Luc looking a little nerdy in borrowed clothes. I was beginning to think I’d never see him again.

‘Looking good, Riley,’ Luc grins at me.

‘Back atcha, Lucas.’

He turns serious. ‘You okay? Sorry I couldn't get here any sooner and I can't stay long, I'm supposed to be fetching some paint cans.’

‘What's happening?’

‘It's not good news, Riley. I'm almost certain we've been tricked.’