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Authors: Kerry Wilkinson

BOOK: Renegade
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I crouch and open the first freezer underneath the desk, allowing a cold blast to shoot through the material of the gloves which makes me shiver. A mist of frost billows from the unit as I hunt
through the rack of virus samples.

The containers in the freezers are a mixture of square tubs, flat transparent circular containers and long metallic tubes that are sealed with thick stoppers. Xyalis insists we are safe to carry
anything as long as we don’t remove the top. He says the diseases are in concentrated form and although they are very dangerous, the seals can only be broken via an applicator because the
metal is unbreakable. I recognise a few of the names as I scan the labels but most of them are a mystery.

Opie starts to search through the freezer next to me. ‘Did he give you any idea where the sample to help Hart would be?’

‘No, he just gave me the code number for the universal cure that he says will be written on the side of the container. He says there might be more than one sample, so we’ll take
everything we can carry. He said the other thing he needs for his device should be here too.’

I finish looking through the first freezer and move to the one beyond Opie. He is barely halfway through the second shelf and is checking each label thoroughly.

I expect another freezer as I yank the next door open but instead it is a cupboard full of empty shelves. I start to close it and move on to the next but then I see a reflection at the back of a
shelf. Because of the armour, it is a struggle to reach, but I force my fingertips to close around a small spherical object and pull it out.

‘What is it?’ Opie asks, looking at the ball in my hand.

I turn it around but the only things I can see, other than the smooth grey metal, are three tiny holes. Given its size and metallic feel, the sphere seems a lot lighter than it should be. I put
it back in the cupboard and shut the door, moving on to the next unit.

‘Look out for the applicator,’ I say, as Opie shuts his freezer. ‘It’s supposed to be long and pointy, like the syringes we have at home. Xyalis says the sample will be
useless if we can’t apply it. Try those drawers on the far side.’

Opie stands without question and moves across to the place I have pointed out. I don’t tell him that he is working too slowly.

I am three-quarters of the way through the next freezer when I find a label that matches the formula Xyalis requested. It is not the medicine, it is for the device he wouldn’t explain.
It’s in a thin metallic tube, unidentifiable other than by the number on the side. I slide it into the pouch on my belt and check the cylinders next to it in case there is more than one. When
it is clear there isn’t, I continue looking for the medicine – the thing I really want to find.

After I have looked through more samples, Opie calls me from the other side of the room. ‘Is this it?’ he asks, holding a cylindrical metal contraption that has a wide hole at one
end and a thin one at the other. On the side is a trigger that makes it look like a gun.

‘I think so. Are there any others? Keep looking and take as many as you can find.’

As I move on to the final freezer, I begin to think that Xyalis could be mistaken or, worse, he has tricked us into coming here for a reason he hasn’t revealed.

‘I’ve found two others,’ Opie calls from behind me.

‘I’m nearly there,’ I reply, although there is also the prospect that I’ve been moving from sample to sample so quickly that I have missed what I was supposed to be
looking for and will have to start again.

‘Those red lights are still blinking,’ Opie says absent-mindedly. I’m not sure if he is trying to make conversation as he is bored, or if he’s trying to help. He’s
certainly not doing the latter. I glance around and see him standing by the door, examining one of the syringe devices in his hand. I ignore him and pull out the final rack, flicking through the
first row of metal tubes. The gloves are now offering no protection against the cold as my fingers struggle to close painfully around each cylinder.

As I start on the second row, I am about to return a tube to the rack when I realise I am staring at the sample code I have been looking for. My eyes have become so accustomed to scanning the
labels that I almost moved on to the next one before registering what it was. I check the tube next to it, which has a matching number, and I am about to pocket both when I hear a familiar voice
behind me.

The words purr from his lips, like ice through my veins.

I turn to see the Minister Prime standing in the doorway, his mouth tight and sneering. ‘Well, well, well, Ms Blackthorn. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.’

28

I am shivering but it isn’t because of my frozen fingers or the haze of frost drifting from the freezer. The sharp transfixing tone of the Minister Prime’s voice
coupled with his knife-like black eyes have me pinned to the spot. I try to stand but my knees are shaky and I have to put a hand on the counter to steady myself, hauling my body up until I am
standing. The tubes with the healing virus inside roll under the freezer, out of sight. The Minister Prime looks exactly as he did the last time I was here: the living version of the colour black,
from his hair to his clothes to those terrifying eyes that don’t stop looking at me.

‘As I remember,’ he says, ‘the last time I saw you, you were leaping from a window.’

My eyes flicker from him towards Opie, who is unconscious on the ground, his head propping the door open. The Minister Prime must have hit him as I was peering into the freezer, concentrating on
the samples. He smiles as he sees me glance away. ‘Which one is this?’ he taunts. ‘I don’t recognise him as one of your little friends.’

He moves around the central counter but I edge the other way, keeping it between us.

‘You weren’t this quiet the last time.’

He’s right. When we were face to face a few floors up, I knew what was coming. I didn’t know if I was on the brink of escaping, or about to jump to my death. I wasn’t bothered
either way – the final outcome was that I would be away from the castle. Now I am back in the place I never wanted to return to.

He can see all of this in my face, his lips curling slightly upwards into a tighter, thinner smile that is full of derision.

‘Why did you come back?’

Suddenly my voice returns, full of a confidence I don’t feel. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

We continue circling the counter as he reaches the still-open freezer. He glances towards it quickly and then kicks it shut. ‘No one has been to this room in years. It took me a few
seconds to even remember where the alarm was coming from.’

I see the camera light blinking behind him, wondering if Xyalis has somehow made a mistake, and then remember the sphere in the cupboard. It must be some sort of light or sound sensor. Compared
to the vials, it seemed out of place.

‘I bet you didn’t expect me,’ I say.

‘Indeed not.’ His eyes flicker towards the door as he realises I am closer to it than he is. I could turn and run but there is no guarantee I would get away – and I would be
leaving Opie at the King’s mercy. Not to mention Faith and Imrin.

I step past Opie, relieved that there is no blood pooling around him. I assume the Minister Prime took him by surprise, rather than hurt him seriously.

As I register the gap into the corridor, I realise the other reason he may have looked towards the door is that he has given away more information than he should have done. By admitting the
alarm from here doesn’t go off regularly – and that he didn’t know it was me in this room – he has inadvertently let me know that he came alone. There would surely be an
army bursting through the door if he knew why the alarm had gone off.

‘All on your own?’ I taunt, letting him know I am cleverer than he thinks.

His eyes flicker in annoyance, hand hovering around the sword on his belt. ‘How’s your brother?’

I can hear two voices – one inside of me, panicked and scared, telling me to stay calm. The other comes from my mouth, confident and strong. One is me, the other the myth.

‘Don’t you know? You’re the one with Kingsmen all over the country looking for him.’

Another twitch of annoyance.

‘He’s safe and having the time of his life,’ I add.

I wish I felt as confident as I sounded.

‘Do you know what I’m going to do when I get hold of him?’

I try not to show him that this is how to hurt me but he already knows. ‘You won’t find him,’ I say.

‘I’ll start by pulling his fingernails out one at a time.’

Stay calm
.

‘I’ll sew his eyes open so he can see everything and then I’ll kill your mother in front of him.’

He lunges around the table between us and I am so stung by his words that I almost forget to move, stumbling backwards away from his grasping hands before steadying myself on the top of the
freezer. He grins, eyes narrow, stepping over Opie.

‘I’ll send him back to the medical wing each day so they can keep enough blood in him for me to work on him over and over.’

‘You won’t find him.’

‘I already know where he is.’

I stumble again, tripping over the corner of the counter. ‘You’re lying. If you knew where he was, you’d have him already.’

‘How about you hand yourself in now and I let him go free?’

I stop moving and face him, trying to see if it is a genuine offer. Myself for Colt is a sacrifice I would make in a heartbeat.

I nod towards Opie on the floor, not wanting to give away his name. ‘What about him?’

‘He goes free too.’

‘And my mother?’

‘Free.’

I think about Imrin and Faith in another part of the castle. ‘My other friends?’

‘Pardons for all of them.’

He takes a step towards me and this time I don’t move. ‘How do I know you’ll let them go?’

‘The King will address the nation live and tell everyone that all crimes have been forgiven. All you have to do is surrender yourself.’

I have no problem giving up my freedom for everyone else’s but even if the offer was genuine, what would it achieve? There would still be thirty more scared children sent to their deaths
every year, with thousands more going unnecessarily hungry. Even if he was free, what sort of world would that be for Colt to grow up in? And then there is Wray, whose death would have been for
nothing.

I’m about to say no deal when I realise the Minister Prime is closer to me than I thought. He lunges across, snatching the corner of my armour and using his body weight to drag me to the
floor. I try to scramble to my feet but he grabs my ankle and punches the join to my foot so hard that it twists sideways. I stumble into one of the freezers but all of my weight falls on my
damaged ankle and I crumple to the floor next to Opie’s limp body.

This time the Minister Prime makes no mistake. He pushes himself up and then deliberately stands on my already shattered ankle, pressing his full weight onto me.

I scream in agony but he bends over and backhands me brutally across the face. I can taste his foul breath as he hisses in my face. ‘Shush . . . I don’t want the guards to interrupt
my little bit of fun now I’ve got you to myself.’

I can taste blood in my mouth and my ankle hurts so much that it doesn’t feel as if my leg is there any longer.

‘You’ve caused me so much trouble,’ he says, sitting across me with his knees pinning my arms to my side, his back to the door.

‘Good.’

He backhands me again, unwilling to listen any longer.

‘Where are the others?’ he asks.

I don’t know if he means the others in the castle, the others I escaped with, or Colt and my mother. Not that I would tell him anyway – I am stalling for my life.

‘Who?’

‘All of them.’

I assumed he was bluffing at knowing where my family are but it is hard to switch off when he talks about Colt or my mother. It is a weak spot I cannot ignore.

‘I’ll never tell you.’

‘We’ll find them eventually. If you tell me, I guarantee everything will happen quickly. If we have to find them then I won’t be responsible for my own actions.’

For perhaps the first time, I have the feeling that he is telling the truth. He is deluded enough to think I would give away the locations of everyone I care about just to make our deaths a
little less painless – as if the agony of my betrayal would not hurt enough.

‘I’m not telling you and you’ll never find them.’

He leans back further, digging his full weight into me and breaks into a grin. ‘I was almost hoping you’d say that. If you have nothing to say, then you’re not worth keeping
alive.’

His hand flashes towards his belt from where he pulls out a long, sharp dagger. He twirls it in his fingers and then tosses it to one side and cracks his knuckles.

‘This time,’ he says, ‘I think we’ll do it the old-fashioned way.’

29

The Minister Prime doesn’t see the blow coming as Head Kingsman Porter smashes a thick chunk of wood into his head. He crumples sideways away from me, slumping onto the
floor as Porter helps me to my feet.

He looks as if he has aged ten years since I last saw him, his hair has almost vanished and there are new wrinkles across his face. His voice is frantic. ‘Why did you come back?’

My ankle collapses under me and I have to use the bench to hold myself up. ‘We needed something. I found Xyalis.’

Porter was the person who first told me that name and his face is full of shock. ‘The old Minister Prime?’

I don’t answer, falling to my knees and stretching for the tubes that rolled under the freezer. I cannot reach them, so Porter tilts the unit while I scoop them both into the pouch on my
belt and then pull the bottom drawer open again to take out the final two samples.

‘How did you know we were here?’ I ask.

‘Since you left, the security system has been updated. I was working late and noticed something not quite right with it . . .’

‘That will be Xyalis.’

He points to the cameras in the corner of the room. ‘There’s some sort of interference going on with the cameras that I didn’t notice at first. When I spotted what was going
on, I realised someone was using a backdoor to access the security system. Once I’d figured that out, I saw you here.’

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