Resistance

P
ublished by Bookouture
, an imprint of StoryFire Ltd.

23 Sussex Road, Ickenham, UB10 8PN, United Kingdom.

www.bookouture.com

Copyright © CJ Daugherty 2013

CJ Daugherty has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

‘
Y
ou must relax
,’ Sylvain said. ‘If you’re tense, you’ll sink.’

Allie glared at him. Every muscle in her body was stretched tight as a wire. ‘I am relaxed.’

They stood in cool, waist-deep water, gentle waves jostling them. The sand was soft beneath their toes. Allie could feel the heat of the sun strong on her skin as she looked out over the cobalt waters.

Sylvain’s eyebrows winged up. ‘You are not relaxed.’ He gestured at her tight shoulders, and hands curled into fists. ‘Look at you. We’re swimming in the Mediterranean Sea – you act like you’re about to be tortured.’

Allie shrugged. She was affecting nonchalance but the fact was, she could hardly believe she was really here. With him. Doing this.

I am in the south of France,
she thought,
and Sylvain is teaching me how to swim. WTF?

Sylvain was still waiting for her to say something so she muttered darkly about waterboarding.

His lips twitched.

‘Here,’ he said. ‘It’s easy. Just … sit.’

Looking around at the utter lack of anything to sit on, Allie squinted suspiciously. ‘Sit?’

He demonstrated, lowering his body into the water, which seemed to pick him up and carry him, as if he were relaxing in an invisible chair. Then he leaned back and floated, weightless as a feather. ‘See? It’s easy.’

Hesitantly, Allie let her body drop into the water as he’d done. The second she lifted her feet from the seabed she sank like stone. Splashing wildly, she regained her footing and turned to him, sputtering and outraged.

‘I can’t sit,’ she said, fuming, ‘on water.’

Sylvain tried to hold a sympathetic expression but his eyes danced and his lips curved up.

‘That was … unfortunate.’

‘
Unfortunate
?’ Still tasting salt water, Allie seemed to have lost her ability to put a sentence together.

‘Look,’ he said, stepping closer. ‘Try it again. This time I’ll hold on to you.’

‘Oh no.’ Allie, who had just about had enough swimming for one day, stepped quickly away from him.

Laughing now, Sylvain followed her. ‘Oh yes.’

Allie tried to run towards shore but the sand and water conspired to slow her and in seconds his hands were on her waist. He pulled her back out as she flailed and giggled with helpless indignation.

‘I can’t swim. Please don’t make me learn,’ she implored. ‘I hate learning. Learning is stupid. Learning is bad.’

‘Learning,’ Sylvain said calmly, ‘is wonderful.’

He was swimming beside her now and her feet weren’t touching the sea floor. His hands were steady on her waist and then she was floating in the water without quite knowing how it had happened.

Treading water, Sylvain turned a slow circle, spinning her easily as she lay flat on her back, staring up at the perfect blue sky.

‘See?’ he said. ‘I knew you could do it.’

‘But you’re holding me up,’ she said.

‘No I’m not.’

And he wasn’t. At some point he’d let go. She was floating, free.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Allie whispered. But it was true. She wasn’t sinking or sputtering. The water held her, like gentle hands. She felt safe.

For just a second, she closed her eyes. It was so quiet and calm, the only sound the swish of the waves reaching the sand, and the sigh as the water returned to the sea. It was … perfect.

That was when the first shot split the air.

T
he explosive sound
ripped through the quiet cove. Allie flinched and started to sink. Before she could go under, Sylvain grabbed her, pulling her close.

His eyes searched the shore.

Clinging to his shoulders, Allie followed his gaze. Everything was just as it had been: soft sand, towering boulders, blue sea. But suddenly it looked different; dangerous.

Irrational anger flashed inside her like fire. This was the first time they’d left the compound since they’d arrived at Sylvain’s family home a month ago. Now they’d never be allowed out again. Was this how her whole life was going to be? Constantly on the run?

Constantly afraid.

She thought of Rachel, who she’d left sitting by the pool at Sylvain’s family’s villa. What if she was under attack, too? They had to get out of here. Get back to her.

She sent up a silent prayer.
Please let her be OK.

Still holding her tightly, Sylvain began swimming towards a rock jetty that edged the beach, jutting out into the sea. Feeling like a dead weight, Allie tried to make herself as small and light as possible. But he was a strong swimmer and they moved with sure swiftness.

The whole time, they both watched the shore. Nothing stirred.

Then another gunshot rang out.

As the sound echoed off the rocks, Allie and Sylvain exchanged a shocked look. They both knew better than to speak. Without a word, he shifted her to his other arm, putting his body between her and the suddenly deadly shore.

The water seemed colder now; Allie’s teeth began to chatter.

Guns
. They’d faced a lot of things in England, but never guns. You couldn’t outrun a bullet. Or outswim it.

For three months she and Rachel had moved from safe house to safe house. Each more elegant than the last. Each more isolated. Each more lonely.

A few weeks ago they’d arrived in France to find Sylvain waiting for them. Like a piece of home.

And they’d actually been having fun … Until now.

I should have known it couldn’t last.

The second they reached the rock jetty, Sylvain navigated to a hidden nook where the boulders naturally shielded them on all sides, like a house without a roof.

They crouched down low, both of them tense.

In the safety of the rocks, Allie felt safe enough to whisper. ‘What …?’

‘I don’t know.’ His voice was taut, and a muscle worked in his jaw. ‘But I’m going to find out.’

Fear burned Allie’s stomach like acid. It must have shown on her face because he took her by the shoulders. His hands were steady and his eyes pleaded with her not to argue.

‘Stay here.’ Though whispered, the words seemed to echo around them. ‘Please, Allie. I’m going to see what’s happening then I’ll come right back. I promise.’

A visceral frustration shook her. She should go with him – she was trained for this.

But she didn’t know how to swim. If she insisted on going too, she’d make things more dangerous for both of them.

She held his gaze fiercely. ‘Be careful.’

For a moment he looked at her as if he wanted to say something; instead he pulled her close, hugging her hard. His skin felt wet and cold against hers.

Then he slipped out between the rocks and dived into the water, disappearing with barely a ripple.

As soon as he was out of sight, Allie wanted him back.

Her chest ached. She wrapped her arms tightly across her torso
.

People kept getting hurt because of her. First Ruth, then Jo, then Rachel. If Nathaniel got his hands on Sylvain …

Three gunshots rang in quick succession and she gasped, ducking low. A bullet ricocheted off something with a high-pitched whine.

Allie gripped the stone in front of her, digging her nails into a crevice in the black rock. Barnacles were like razor blades beneath her fingertips and she welcomed the pain. It helped her think.

More time passed and Sylvain didn’t return. It was becoming difficult to breathe.

She couldn’t stay here, could she? He could be hurt. He might need her help.

For a long while she stayed low, torn between rushing out to find him and doing as he’d asked. She counted her breaths.

Fifty-three breaths in. Fifty-four. Fifty-five …

He should be back.

Finally she couldn’t take it any more. She couldn’t swim but she could wade or … walk.
Something
.

She leapt up. At that precise moment, he appeared, dripping from the sea.

Relief threatened to bring tears to her eyes.

Some of the tension left his face as soon as he saw her. He moved swiftly into the safety of the rocks.

‘I was sure you wouldn’t be here,’ he said.

‘I can’t bloody
swim
.’ Helpless frustration rang in her voice and she forced herself to lower it to a whisper. ‘What’s happening?’

His expression changed, becoming more business-like.

‘There are two of them. Our guards are holding them off for now but more could be on the way. We have to get out of here. We need to be fast.’ He held her gaze, his blue eyes dark with worry. ‘Stay with me – no matter what happens, OK?’

Allie, who had no intention of letting him out of her sight again, nodded vigorously. ‘I promise.’

Taking her hand, he bent down low as they left the shelter and slipped into the chilly sea. Fear had heightened Allie’s senses – she thought she could see things moving in the water; feel them brushing against her skin.

As he’d done earlier, Sylvain held her close, propelling them through the waves with strong kicks. But instead of steering towards shore, he headed away from it. Slowly, working against the current, they made their way to the end of the rock jetty, and then around it to the other side.

Here, no beautiful beach greeted them. The unsheltered coastline had been battered by waves and wind and allowed to become overgrown with scrub trees and weeds.

Somewhere in the distance she heard shouts. Sylvain’s arm tightened around her. Gritting his teeth, he kicked harder. With the waves at their back they glided swiftly towards the shore.

As soon as they reached the shallows, they stood and ran. Sylvain held her hand in a tight grip as they stumbled out of the sea, fighting the force of the waves tugging at their legs as if to hold them back.

When they reached the cluster of boulders that shielded the cove, they stopped to catch their breath. The relentless sunlight bleached the scene in front of them, tinting it all with hazy gold.

From the rocks, Allie could see their guards’ SUVs. Just beyond that a flash of bright red – Sylvain’s motorcycle.

Shouts erupted in the distance. Unfamiliar voices hurled French words at each other. Allie couldn’t see anyone – the guards had to be in the rocks.

‘Shh …’ Sylvain held up his hand as he listened. Then he turned to her, his eyes urgent. ‘They’re making a move. Get ready.’

Footsteps pounded across the hard sand. More shouts. A shot was fired.

He pulled at her hand. ‘
Now
.’

Taking off at a run, they hurtled across the sand. Thorny scrub bushes scratched at Allie’s legs, sharp shells cut into her bare feet, but she ignored them, pushing herself to run faster.

The sun turned the sand a brutal white. Her breath burned in her throat.

Ahead of them the motorcycle was like a beacon.

Red. Stop. Danger.

Then they were there. Sylvain leaped on to the bike, reaching back to help her climb on behind him. Shouts erupted behind them and he threw the helmets to the ground – there was no time.

They both knew what would happen when he turned the key, which glittered hot in the ignition where he’d left it.

The attackers would all come running. With guns.

He turned to meet her gaze; his piercing blue eyes were fierce and determined. ‘Hold on.’