Every Second Counts (24 page)

Riley sighed. ‘I’m sorry that you were tricked. If it’s any consolation, neither Uchi nor Spider wanted you involved in that hoax, but I overruled them. You were the best bait
I could think of.’

‘Bait?’ My head spun. ‘I don’t understand. Bait for what? For who?’

‘For Nat, of course,’ Riley said simply.

I stared at him. What was he talking about? I’d just seen Nat. He was free, back at the marina.

‘Nat?’ I said, feeling bewildered.

‘Yes.’ Riley smiled and I was reminded forcefully of Spider. ‘You see Charlie, there was no conventional bomb of the kind you thought you were planting, but there
was
a
weapon on that boat. A very powerful one.’

‘What’s that got to do with Nat?’ I demanded.

Riley shook his head. ‘Brave, Charlie, but not the brightest. Don’t you get it now? He doesn’t know it of course, but Nat was – Nat
is
– the
weapon.’

It was ten p.m. and I had just arrived at the hospital. After trying various resistance members by phone and getting no reply, I’d headed for the safe house, skirting
around it to see if anyone had made it back here in one piece and could help me. But if anybody had got away, they must have fled hours ago, as the place was swarming with police. This meant that
at least some of the Resistance Pairs had surely been arrested.
And
that they’d talked.

Which meant the resistance itself had fallen apart just as it was set to get going. And that I was on my own.

I thought back to how I’d felt this afternoon – positive that there was a way to stand up to Riley at last. I had been wrong.
So
wrong. No one could stop Riley. I saw it now.
Latimer and the resistance had tried — and failed. Charlie and I had tried – and failed. Riley was just too clever.

All that mattered now was rescuing Charlie, then finding Mum and Dad and Jas and going into hiding with them. Maybe we’d go abroad. I didn’t mind where, I just wanted the people I
cared about to be safe.

I pulled the hood of my jacket low over my head as I strolled through the hospital’s main entrance. I had stopped at a public toilets to dry out Aaron’s jumper and my trousers. They
were still slightly damp, but not so as anyone would notice. I was warm anyway, zipped up inside my jacket.

At the information desk I asked for Aaron Latimer. I wanted to make sure Aaron himself was okay, of course, but mostly I was hoping that his dad would still be with him – and would know
what had happened to Charlie.

‘Aaron’s my best friend from school,’ I said to the woman in what I hoped was a convincing voice. It was hard to sound like I meant it. Apart from anything else, the whole
concept of school felt like it belonged to another world, a different time.

The woman gave me the name of Aaron’s ward. I knew the way. It was on the floor below Lucas’s.

Aaron was in a room by himself, lying under crisp white sheets. There was no sign of Latimer but Aaron’s mum – I recognised her from last year’s memorial service – was
sitting beside her son, her head bowed as she held his hand. It was dark outside, though a bright light from the car park shone in through the window. Aaron himself was asleep, the covers rising
and falling steadily as he breathed. The scene reminded me so forcefully of Mum with Lucas that I had to look away.

The last time I’d seen Mum had been in this very hospital, just this morning, when I’d told her and Dad to look after Jas, to take her away and hide. Jas would want to know about
Aaron – and I would have to tell her he was in hospital when she called. I was keeping my phone switched off, in case Riley was trying to track me. I would turn it on later, somewhere busy,
just for a minute, to see if Jas had called to say where they were.

Mum was probably fretting about having left Lucas. He had been on his own since then. It didn’t matter, much, I told myself. It was only a few hours and Lucas was in a coma; he had no idea
who was here and who wasn’t. But, as I stared at Aaron and his mother, guilt filled me to my fingertips.

Mrs Latimer patted Aaron’s hand. ‘Rest now, my darling. They’re saying you’re fine, that you won’t even have to stay in overnight. Dad will be here
later.’

That was a relief, on both counts. I shrank away, into the corridor. Guilt still pricked at my mind. I decided to go and visit Lucas. I needn’t stay long and perhaps when I came back,
Latimer would have returned to pick up his family

Keeping my face carefully turned away from the hospital’s CCTV, I slipped away to see my brother.

I stood up. Riley stayed where he was, across the table. Outside, a man was yelling, a police officer telling him to calm down.

‘What do you mean, Nat is a “weapon”?’ I demanded.

Riley studied me, his bright, sharp eyes fixed on mine.

‘Spider did well, don’t you think?’ Riley paused, a proud smile on his face. ‘Considering that was his first proper mission.’

‘Tell me about Nat,’ I persisted.

Riley sighed. ‘Nat is carrying an airborne virus called Qilota, which we implanted in him when he came to rescue Jas. The virus is in her too.’

‘A virus?’ I frowned. ‘Are they ill, then?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Riley smiled. ‘Though they don’t know it yet. That’s the beauty of Qilota. It’s been developed as a bio-weapon. It takes two to three days to
gestate before symptoms start to show, but the carrier is still highly infectious all that time. Anyone they come into contact with – anyone within a metre or so – is potentially at
risk too.’

My head spun. ‘So . . . so . . . whoever Nat and Jas have met since you infected them will get the virus too?’

Riley nodded. ‘Exactly. We used Jas to check the symptoms wouldn’t show during the first forty-eight hours after infection, but today she should have started to feel very
unwell.’

‘And . . . and Nat is one day behind?’

‘Yes, he’ll start to get symptoms soon, by tomorrow morning at the latest. Just blurred vision at first and a general feeling of weakness, then fever, blindness . . .’ Riley
tailed off, smiling at my horrified expression. ‘And the day after that, so will all the politicians on the boat he infected who, by then, will have gone on to infect others in their
turn.’

I stared at him.

‘
That’s
why you wanted Nat on the boat?’ I terrible thought struck me. ‘That’s why
I
was on the boat.’

‘Yes,’ Riley said, matter-of-factly. ‘As I explained before, you were bait. It was our best option. You are associated with Nat already. Both of you are known terrorists. It
fits with the public perception of you that you would bring a biological weapon to a political event, and the
Kimberley Jack
was an ideal venue because the cabin is small, so Nat would
infect more people. It also makes sense that, once Nat had been spotted, you would have started a panic over a fake bomb to give him a chance to get away. Getting him on to the boat was the only
challenge, but –’ Riley chuckled, ‘– I knew that the harder I made it for him to rescue you, the more determined he would become. We were watching him all the
way.’

My chest tightened. ‘So what happens after the first two to three days, after the weakness and . . . and blindness?’ I asked. ‘How ill do you get?’

‘Once symptoms show, the infected person has less than twenty-four hours to live.’

I stared at him, his words were icy daggers in my heart.

‘Nat and Jas are going to die?’ I gasped.

‘Yes,’ Riley said. ‘As will much of London, unless they receive the antidote in time.’

So this was what he’d meant by ‘extreme casualties’. ‘Why?
How?’
I clenched my fists. ‘What’s the point of all of this?’

‘There are two points,’ Riley said smoothly. ‘Firstly, to discredit the government. When Nat and Jas pass away no one will notice, but as soon as half the people at last
night’s party become ill then we will step in to say we have just discovered that Nat – a known terrorist – was exposed to the deadly virus by government agents, working for the
Prime Minister, that he was a government pawn, working for them – not the League of Iron – all along. You were assisting him and have now disappeared, also presumed dead.’

‘You mean you’re going to frame us, like you did before?’

‘It’s not really about you,’ Riley said. ‘The important aspect to this is that once people become ill and the Prime Minister is denying all knowledge of the virus,
we’ll be able to “expose” the fact that he and his government were responsible for illegally developing Qilota as a bio-weapon.’

‘They’ll deny it.’

Riley nodded. ‘Of course, but we’ll provide what looks like proof.
And
we’ll be the first to locate and provide an antidote. Symptoms will start to clear, people will be
saved and the next day the election will bring us a huge landslide victory as mistrust of the government reaches its height and the Future Party is at last seen for what it is: the saviour of
England.’

‘But . . . but you were on that boat too, you could have been infected. And Spider. And all the EFA people.’
And me
. I thought those last words but I didn’t say them. I
didn’t want to give Riley the satisfaction of knowing how terrified I felt.

‘We’ve already taken the antidote. So has everyone at the EFA, including Taylor and Uchi. And I’ve made sure selected political allies will be alright too.’

What about me?
Again, I didn’t say this out loud. Instead I looked up. ‘You mean like Aaron’s dad?’

‘Yes, and his son.’

I fell silent. Did that mean Latimer’s cover with Riley was still intact? What did it really matter? I no longer held out any hope that Latimer or anyone else could make a real stand
against Riley.

‘You’re wondering about yourself, Charlie?’ Riley asked.

I held his gaze, my heart suddenly pounding.

‘There’s no need to worry,’ Riley said. ‘We slipped the antidote into your drink earlier today. Uchi insisted.’

I stared into his eyes. His reassurance meant nothing. What good was my life to me, if those I loved most lost theirs?

‘But Nat and Jas will die?’ I said flatly.

Riley smiled and I remembered that moment, a month ago, when I’d faced him with a gun in my hand. Then, I’d been unable to shoot him. Now I was sure I would have no problem doing so.
I didn’t care if it was right or wrong.

‘Yes.’ Riley paused. ‘Jas has another twelve hours or so . . . Nat about a day and a half. After that they – and anyone they come into contact with who doesn’t
receive the antidote in time – will be dead.’

I kept my head down as I approached Lucas’s room. Much to my relief, the corridor was empty, though there was a buzz coming from the waiting area at the end, where
several nurses had congregated and were chatting excitedly about something.

I turned into Lucas’s room, bracing myself for the sight of his body hooked up to its usual tubes and wires. But his bed was empty. I stared at the white sheets, neatly folded back on
themselves. I couldn’t process what I was seeing. Where was Lucas?

Was he dead?
Guilt surged up inside me, trapping all the air in my chest. Had Lucas died because I’d sent Mum away?

My legs threatened to give way beneath me. I reached for the door frame, consumed with shock and fear.

‘You alright there?’ A nurse bustled past me, into the room.

I pointed to the bed, unable to speak.

The nurse frowned. I didn’t recognise her from any of my previous visits. ‘Goodness, you look pale. Are you feeling alright?’

‘
What?
’ I gasped, still pointing to the bed and completely forgetting my need to maintain a low profile. ‘Lucas. Where . . . what happened?’

The nurse’s eyes widened. ‘You know Lucas Holloway? Are you family?’

‘Yes.’ I just got the word out. As I spoke, I remembered that I was still a wanted figure – a fugitive. I needed to keep my true identity a secret. ‘I’m
Lucas’s cousin,’ I lied. ‘And his best friend.’

To my surprise the nurse grinned. ‘That’s excellent to hear. We’ve been trying to track down Lucas’s family since he woke up.’

‘
Woke up
?’ The room spun around me. Mum had always said Lucas would regain consciousness, but the doctors had held out little hope and for most of the past year I had thought
Mum had been deluding herself.

‘Yes.’ The nurse was clearly enjoying herself now. ‘There’d been signs of partial consciousness for a couple of weeks and we’d stepped up the physical therapy we
were doing to help build Lucas’s muscle strength. Then this morning he opened his eyes. Two hours later he was speaking and moving his limbs. We’ve been working with him all afternoon.
He’s even taken a few steps.’ She hesitated. ‘You should speak to the doctor. They can fill you in. And perhaps you could let us know where his parents might be.’

‘Speaking?
Walking?’
I said the words in a daze, too shocked to think straight.

‘Yes.’ The nurse touched my arm. ‘Would you like me to take you to see Lucas right now?’

I nodded, still unable to process what she was saying. The nurse steered me along the corridor. The waiting area had emptied from a few minutes ago. Just two doctors were there now, conferring
in a corner. One of the armchairs had been turned to face the window. A thin, pale arm lay across the armrest. I could just see the edge of the hand-shaped EFA logo that was tattooed on the inside
of the wrist.

I hesitated, feeling dazed. The nurse gave me a little push. ‘Go on,’ she said encouragingly. ‘He’s not as fragile as he looks.’

I stumbled forwards, past the row of plastic chairs and the coffee machine. I stood by the armchair, staring down at the shrunken figure – so familiar and yet so strange.

He was staring out of the window at the rooftops of London.

‘Lucas?’ I said, my voice hoarse.

He turned and his face lit up with the lopsided grin that had dominated my childhood.

‘Hey, little brother,’ said Lucas. ‘So what’s new?’