After the Fear (Young Adult Dystopian) (19 page)

That thought makes me kind of pleased, despite everything else which is going on right now. Alixis launches into a list of baby names she likes as we get ready to sleep. She even asks if I would like to get into bed with her, joking that she doesn’t really sleep naked, but I climb into my own instead. Her presence brings me comfort but, for reasons I can’t explain, I need to be on my own right now. My head is full of facts and theories which I can’t make sense of.

-I’ve now killed four people.

-I can no longer ignore that Shepherd Fines wants something from me.

-Alixis needs to start her tour soon.

-I need to finish mine before I go insane.

THE NEXT MORNING, the camp is fresh and crisp. Freezing cold, of course, but the rain from last night makes everything smell deliciously natural and full of promise. All that was once green, the oak leaves, the grass, has been well and truly ravaged by autumn, and a crisp layer of frost decorates the playground. I wonder if you only really notice these things after you’ve thought you might never see them again.

Dylan’s waiting for me at the edge of the field as usual. While I approach, he looks at everything except my face. I stare at him, noticing the lines creasing his forehead, his pursed lips, and the way he breathes through his nose so heavily he sounds like a bull about to storm. When his gaze catches my nose, his frown deepens.

‘You should have seen that head-butt coming as soon as he leaned back,’ he says eventually, as if we were in the middle of a conversation about my Demonstration. I suppress a grin.

‘Not to mention that you broke your promise to try to survive by not accepting the gun. But there’s nothing we can do about that now.’ He looks out onto the field. ‘Forty laps, then we’ll work on how to distance yourself from your enemy without backing into a corner.’ He says the last bit pointedly. I swerve around so that I’m in his line of sight and walking backwards onto the field.

‘Dylan, this, right now, is my favourite part of having to fight yesterday,’ I say, half laughing and definitely grinning. I stay for a second on the balls of my feet before dashing away to start my laps.

Alixis might be the pregnant one, but I seem to be having the moods swings. I’ve pushed all grim thoughts of yesterday away, replacing them with Dylan’s annoyed face and the idea of his watching my Demonstration on the screen.

At ten o’clock, Alixis still hasn’t joined us. It occurs to me that she’s giving me time to ask Dylan about recommending her, but then I assume that she’s probably still in bed. I put my hand up for a time out, panting heavily and bent double after a round of counter-attacking Dylan. His bad mood seems to have thawed somewhat, and he nods, discarding his plastic sword and stretching out his neck. Yesterday, I thought I might never see him again. Now, as I watch his body move, hear his strained breathing, feel his presence so close to me, I’m so, so glad I have.

‘What are you doing?’ he asks, stopping abruptly in the middle of a hamstring stretch. Adjusting my stare so it looks like I was watching something over his shoulder, I shrug and sit on the damp grass.

‘Nothing. Anyway, I kind of spoke to Alixis last night.’ There’s no easy way to broach this. Dylan looks warily at me.

‘And?’

‘And I know. About her . . . little . . . permanent resident?’ I say it like a question, gauging his reaction. He relaxes his shoulders, heaving a deep sigh before sitting next to me.

‘Good. You can tell her to stop pestering me about recommending her.’

Ah. This might be harder than I thought.

‘Dylan, you have to. It’s the only way she’ll be with her baby.’

He looks at me, his face stony. I can tell he’s annoyed, almost disappointed, that I’m trying to get something from him.

‘She won’t be with her baby. They will both be dead. She can’t fight like that.’

He says ‘baby’ like ‘babby’ and although it’s cute, I can’t believe what he’s implying.

‘But the Shepherds will take him or her away!’

‘Aye, and help another family who can’t have kids, most likely.’ He sets his jaw, bracing himself for my answer.

‘That isn’t their decision to make, or yours. That’s her
child
. Please, give her a chance,’ I beg.

‘I won’t send her to her death.’ Dylan keeps his tone neutral and non-affected, then, ‘You need to practise fighting without a sword.’

Without another word, he gets up, retrieves his sword, and stands ready. I moan inwardly; this boy isn’t going to give up without a fight.

When Alixis finally joins us, the elephant in the room intensifies. During our drills, she keeps making ‘subtle’ eyes to me, nodding her head towards Dylan. It would make me laugh if it wasn’t so cringingly obvious.

‘I’m getting pretty good at defence, don’t you think, Sola?’ she asks.

Oh dear, she’s actually winking at me.

Dylan takes a deep breath, walking around the two of us as we parry. ‘Keep your knees bent, Alixis. Sola could unbalance you in a second if she wasn’t letting you win.’

‘She’s definitely getting better,’ I lie. Dylan stops still.

‘Look girls, give up. I’ve been fighting in Demonstrations for a long time. I know when I’m being ganged up on.’

Alixis stops our match and waggles her eyebrows at me. ‘That sounds a bit rude, don’t you think?’

For some reason, I hide my head in my hand, unable to stop my giggle.

‘Anyway, Dylan, I’ve been training all morning, and it’s bloody freezing out here. Are you going to recommend me or not?’ she asks bluntly.

‘Not.’

They stare at each other for a moment before Alixis lets out a huff.

‘Well, why the heck am I doing this then?’ She chucks her sword on the ground and storms off towards the refectory, leaving Dylan staring at the ground. I can’t believe I ever thought they were a couple. When he looks over, I feel so sorry for him that I don’t have it in me to be cross too.

‘That went really well.’ I say, unable to keep a straight face, before ducking as he throws his plastic sword over my head. The throw was far too wide to have actually hit and when I look up his blue eyes are twinkling with mischief.

‘I love it when you do that,’ Dylan says without warning, his chin jerking up as if motioning to me.

‘Do what?’

‘Find an excuse to cover your mouth when you’re embarrassed.’

I flush and straight away my hand comes up to my face. I catch myself, laugh, and grasp my hands together behind my back.

‘I didn’t realise I did that. Anyway, stalker, what else have you been noticing about me?’

Dylan steps forwards, tilting his head slightly. ‘Only the way you bury your head when you get frustrated. The way your laugh becomes almost silent when you find something really funny, and only your shoulders shake. You stare at nothing sometimes too. You’re completely lost, and I know anyone who’s near you is desperate to know what you’re thinking.’

I open my mouth, but no words come. When did he notice all this? Self-consciousness threatens to take hold.

‘Oh yeah?’ I try and sound nonchalant although my voice cracks. ‘Well I’ve noticed things about you, too.’

No reply. Dylan takes another daring step forwards. He’s looking at me now. Those blue eyes . . . wow. I swallow and force a laugh.

‘Like how whenever you’re around, there’s this strange smell. . . .’ I say.

He raises his eyebrows, stops walking. There’s about a metre of grass between us but it feels as though we’re already touching, as if he’s crossed some invisible contact line we’d set for ourselves because otherwise we’d never break apart.

‘That’s the price you pay for being able to run like this—’ He speeds off.

Even from here I can tell he’s not trying hard—jogging rather than sprinting across the field. A flourish of happiness turns in my belly and my legs pedal across the grass without consciously deciding to go after him. Once I’m running, Dylan speeds up.

We run for two laps, laughing as one catches up with the other, overtakes and then is overtaken in turn. I manage to burst ahead of him and, wishing to end the race winning, I break from the tracks and sprint to the oak tree, whooping so that Dylan behind me can hear.

I’m still grinning when I lean my back against the cold trunk and close my eyes. The bark scrapes against my hair.

‘That smell back again?’

I open my eyes to see Dylan facing me. He’s leaning on the tree trunk, his hands either side of my shoulders. That perfect face of his is completely open, his eyes wide and worried as if he may have gone too far.

Yet on his lips there’s a daring smile.

I shake my head, not telling him that I actually smell plants and bedding whenever he’s near. He inches closer. His breath comes fast on my cheek, and I don’t think it’s because we’ve been running. I’m just glad of an excuse to be flustered. He steps closer again, so that our bodies could touch with barely a twitch of movement. There’s a sprinkling of freckles on his uneven nose which I never noticed before.

I’ve wanted this for so long. I lick my bottom lip, not in a sexy way, but because it’s so dry and I really, really want to kiss him. I want it so much my body arches up to meet his strong, muscular form.

His head pulls away very slightly, but he doesn’t go anywhere. Instead his hand moves from my side. It comes up to my face and after a moment’s hesitation, Dylan brushes his thumb across my cheek bone.

His touch is soft although his skin isn’t. I hold my breath as he runs his thumb over the top of my ear and slowly down my neck. He’s watching his hand, his eyes severe and concentrating. I wonder how someone with the power to kill can so easily touch me this gently. I tilt my head, wanting—no,
needing
—him to carry on, to touch me all over, but he brings his hand away, focusing once again on my face. He leans in. This is it. My lips part and my eyes close and—

‘Sola!’

Shepherd Fines’ voice breaks through the bubble we had cocooned ourselves in. Dylan jumps back as if electrocuted, causing me to sway forwards.

If I had a word for how much I want to scream right now, I would shout and yell and shriek. I bite my bottom lip hard, curling my hands into fists. Dylan runs his hand through his hair, casting irritated glowers at Shepherd Fines and walking a few paces away, then back again.

‘Tomorrow,’ I say to Dylan although I’m not sure what I’m telling him. He gives me a wry grin, nods his head once and, with that, I’m away, jogging across the field and over to the Shepherd who likes to have his hand on my leg.

TOMORROW. My next Demonstration is
tomorrow
. How is that fair?

I’ve spent the evening with Shepherd Fines, who, judging by his good mood, didn’t notice how close Dylan and I were getting out on the field. He delights in regaling to me the highlights of my fight, telling me I hold the record for the most pre-bought ticket sales for a second Demonstration. He even checks my Debtbook to see my followers. One thousand more than last week. It’s kind of pathetic, but the main reason I’m pleased is because I know it bothers Coral. She’s been updating her statuses constantly with tales of me having no friends at school and how no one likes me at the camp, but it hasn’t done anything to dampen my reputation. Perhaps Coral doesn’t understand that not everyone is like her.

‘My dearest.’ Shepherd Fines addresses me as he sits on the sofa. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you about a matter which has come to my attention. I’m sure it’s nothing to do with you, but there seems to be a problem with your trigger camera.’

‘Oh, actually that is to do with me. I kind of tied a sheet around it.’

There’s a pause.

‘Right, I see. Of course I understand that it’s not
ideal
to have the camera on, however it is the law, I’m afraid. Could you remove the sheet please, for me?’ he asks, although a request from the most powerful man I’ve ever met isn’t exactly a favour.

‘I was, um, talking about girl stuff, though. I was hoping that maybe you’d let me keep the sheet around it? Talking makes it easier for me to sort out my feelings.’ I add the last bit on with a pang of guilt. I don’t intend to lead Shepherd Fines on, but I really don’t want the camera picking up on anything to do with Alixis’ baby.