‘Send him in,’ he called out; moments later Lucas appeared.
‘Brother,’ he said, his face level, unmoved.
‘What have you learnt?’ the Brother asked, trying and failing to keep the weariness out of his voice.
‘I think they were planning this for a long time,’ Lucas said gravely. ‘The timing appears to have been a coincidence, a result of my brother’s incarceration rather than the imminent label change. We know now that the girl and he used to meet. He knew the System better than we realised, had worked out a way of covering up their movements. I should have known that the girl was evil too – she was my match, Brother. I should have seen it. But I didn’t. I believed her. I . . .’
He stopped briefly, composed himself. ‘She must have come to the house in the night. I blame myself. I should have known, I should have kept watch.’
‘You were not to know the lengths to which they would resort,’ the Brother said, shaking his head. ‘You were not to know that the evil within them ran so deep.’
‘No,’ Lucas said. ‘But I should have anticipated the worst.’
The Brother nodded. ‘Perhaps. What else. She took the key? How?’
‘Her father insists that he did not show her the combination.’
‘Then how?’
‘Her mother says that she is devious, that she must have watched him.’
‘Watched him when? The key has not been needed for many months.’
Lucas didn’t say anything; he simply raised his eyebrows and his eyes said the rest.
‘I see,’ the Brother answered.
‘Are we likely to find them?’ Lucas asked.
The Brother shook his head. ‘No. The police guard have exhausted their search. The likelihood is that they have been savaged by wild animals or killed by the Evils by now. I try to protect my flock, Lucas, but I cannot protect those who choose to leave.’
‘No, Brother,’ said Lucas. Not a hint of sadness, the Brother found himself thinking and a little shiver ran down his spine. Not a single tear for his own flesh and blood.
‘Thank you, Lucas. That will be all.’
‘Yes, Brother.’ Lucas walked towards the door. Then he turned, briefly. ‘The file on Raphael. On the glitch. Shall I close it now?’
The Brother nodded. It was no use now. Lucas opened the door. And then the Brother noticed something. Lucas’s jaw was clenched. Not relaxed as it always was, not firm and strong, but clenched. Tightly.
‘But send it to me,’ pronounced the Brother thoughtfully. ‘I would like to have it in this office, you understand.’
Lucas hesitated for a fraction of a second, enough to tell the Brother he had made the right decision. ‘Very good, Brother.’
‘Thank you, Lucas. Thank you, as always,’ the Brother said, leaning back against his chair and realising that his heaviness had lifted. That something else had taken its place, something that brought with it energy and meaning and all the things he had lost in the past few days. An inkling. Of what, he didn’t know, but he would, eventually. And in the meantime, he would stay alert, on his toes. That was why he was the Brother.
That was why he was in charge.
Evie didn’t sleep for long. It felt as though no sooner had her eyelids closed heavily over her eyes than Raffy was gently shaking her. ‘They’re packing up,’ he said. ‘Wake up, Evie.’
She didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to return to this strange world, to the pain in her head, to the questions circling. But as she opened her eyes she saw Raffy looking down at her, his haunted eyes somehow softer than they’d been since they left the City. Gently, his fingers traced the line of her jaw, then his thumb moved over her eyebrow and she closed her eyes again, just for a moment, because they were out in the open, because for the first time they weren’t hiding, not in a tree, not in a cave; they weren’t looking over their shoulder or fearing what might lie around the corner. They just
were
. They were here, together, in the warm sun, together, and it was the closest to happy she could remember feeling. She wanted to preserve the moment, to remember what it felt like. Because though it was happening, although she could feel Raffy, his touch, the rise and fall of his chest against her cheek, she knew that it wasn’t real and that it couldn’t last. Because moments like this never lasted; she knew that in her bones. They existed just briefly to give you strength, to have something to remember, to cling to when darker days came.
‘I love you, Evie,’ he whispered, and she felt a tug at her heart, a need for him, but it was something more. ‘You’re the only person in this whole world that matters. You and me, Evie. It’s always going to be you and me.’
And she nodded, grasped his neck, felt his kisses on her, moved herself against him. But all the time, there was just one thought in her head. Lucas. She closed her eyes and saw his face, looking up at her, his eyes full of pain full of . . .
‘Raffy,’ she whispered. ‘Raffy, there’s something . . .’
But even as she spoke, she heard footsteps marching towards them, a voice calling out to Raffy. It was Linus. ‘Hey,’ he shouted. ‘Over here. Help us.’ Evie quickly roused herself and stood up so that Raffy could, too. Linus looked around vaguely then turned to Evie. ‘You, help Martha.’ He didn’t know her name, she found herself thinking. He’d been so keen for answers and yet he’d never asked their names.
Quickly, Evie ran over to Martha, who was dismantling a tent. Like the gypsies in her mother’s stories, Evie thought to herself as she pulled pegs out of the ground. Never in one place for long, always running away. Would this be her life now? Had she joined the gypsies just as her fake mother had warned that she would?
She took out the pegs, rolled up the groundsheet and did her best to fold the tent, then watched in awe as Martha expertly packed it up into a bag that appeared far too small to contain it. And as she watched, Evie’s hand moved inadvertently to her temple, to her new scar that throbbed – not only with pain but with something else, something she couldn’t identify.
And then she realised what it was. It was fear. Because for all his smiles, all his talk of answers and explanations, Evie didn’t trust Linus. She didn’t trust any of them.
The truth was, she barely trusted herself.
‘Is your head hurting?’ Martha asked, her expression kind and warm.
Evie shook her head. ‘No. I mean, a little. But I’m fine.’ She didn’t want their medicine. Martha seemed okay but she would rather feel her pain, would rather know the truth of it than disguise it with drugs. In the City medicine was rare, illness brought on by individuals through weakness or pride. Men and women had to suffer their illnesses, the Brother always said, otherwise they would not learn from them, they would not grow stronger.
Then again, she wasn’t in the City any more, Evie thought with a thud.
‘Ready?’ Linus appeared in front of her, Raffy at his side; it was clear from the sweat on his forehead that he had been helping the men to pack up. ‘We need to leave soon. Once it’s dark we’re too vulnerable. Can you carry these?’ He proffered two rucksacks; Raffy felt them both then handed one to Evie.
‘Vulnerable?’ Raffy asked him as he swung the rucksack onto his back and helped Evie with hers.
‘Wild animals. Worse,’ Linus said with a little shrug. ‘So come on. Let’s get moving.’
Raffy held out his hand and Evie took it gratefully.
‘How long have you been here?’ she asked Linus.
‘Here at this camp? Oh, a week, or thereabouts,’ he said, rounding everyone up.
She digested this. But she still didn’t understand. ‘And why were you here? Why didn’t you stay at . . .’ She tried to remember the name of their City, their home.
‘At Base Camp?’ Linus asked. He gently bobbed his head up and down as he checked off people and baggage until he was satisfied that everyone and everything was ready. ‘Good question,’ he said, turning to bestow a smile on her. ‘One that I’ll answer later, if that’s okay. When I know you better.’ He winked, then walked to the front. ‘Right, people. Let’s get moving.’
He started to walk and everyone followed, carrying bags on their backs; two men at the rear held a large canvas bag over a stick. In their spare hands they both carried binoculars; Evie recognised them because her father had some. Her fake father. He had shown her how to use them, watching her amazement as she looked through the lenses to see that the sky, so far away, was suddenly close at hand, the birds flying through it now almost touchable.
Although not actually touchable, she’d been disappointed to learn.
She pointed the binoculars out to Raffy, who raised his eyebrows. ‘They’re the look-out,’ he whispered.
The look-out. To protect them from wild animals. Or worse. She shivered, even though the sun was beating down on her. She longed to talk to Raffy, alone, to make sense of things together just as they always had. But it was impossible; they would be heard. They were allowed to be together, which was something, an improvement on the City. But without sharing their thoughts, without revealing their fears to each other, it was as though there was a huge, invisible wedge between them. Evie wondered if Raffy felt it as keenly as she did; the resolute expression on his face suggested otherwise. Then again, she found herself thinking, it had always been she who had shared the most in their conversations, she who had talked for so long her throat became sore. What she missed was Raffy listening, his silent nods, his dark soulful eyes which told her that he understood, that he didn’t judge, that he accepted her for all she was.
They walked quickly, soon leaving the ramshackle group of buildings and half-buildings behind to wander through a landscape far more barren than even the land around the City.
Evie felt Raffy tug at her hand; when she turned, he pulled her towards him. ‘Okay,’ he whispered, so softly she could barely hear him. ‘I’ve got a plan.’
Her heart quickened. With excitement, with fear.
Raffy started to walk more quickly, pulling Evie with him, overtaking Martha and Angel so that they were right behind Linus. Linus heard them approach and turned, flashing them a warm grin. ‘Yes?’ he asked, anticipating a question.
‘Will we reach Base Camp tonight?’ Raffy asked.
‘Will we reach Base Camp tonight,’ Linus said thoughtfully. ‘And why would you want to know that?’
‘Because Evie isn’t feeling well,’ Raffy said, squeezing her hand as he spoke. ‘I just want to know how much longer we’re going to be travelling.’
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Linus said, stopping suddenly and turning his attentions on Evie.
Evie felt herself flush bright red. ‘I’m . . . I don’t know,’ she said uncomfortably.
‘It’s her stomach,’ Raffy piped up quickly.
‘Ah,’ said Linus. ‘Maybe the water. Okay. We’ll stop whenever you need to, Evie. Just let me know, okay?’
‘Okay,’ she said, her cheeks burning.
‘And Base Camp?’ Raffy insisted. ‘Will we get there tonight?’
Linus considered this, appeared to consider Raffy. Then he shrugged. ‘No,’ he said. ‘We’ll get to Base Camp tomorrow. Tonight we’ll pitch one tent for all of us. Safety in numbers.’
His face crinkled into his infuriating grin again, then he turned and started to march. Evie met Raffy’s eyes and they dropped back so that they were behind Angel and Martha once more. ‘Tonight,’ Raffy mouthed. ‘In the night, when it’s dark. When we get to Base Camp it’ll be too late to escape.’
‘Tonight,’ Evie mouthed back, but her throat was suddenly dry and her heart was thudding loudly in her chest. And she marched, side by side with Raffy, settling into a rhythm and trying not to think about the weight of the rucksack on her back, the fear of what lay ahead.
They arrived at sundown; or at least they stopped – Evie couldn’t be sure whether Linus had been heading for the spot where they set up a temporary camp, had arrived just in time, or whether he had simply waited for the sun to start setting and stopped. Either way, Evie told herself, it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that soon she and Raffy would be on the run again, fending for themselves. The same thought must have been at the forefront of Raffy’s mind because he, like Evie, had devoured all the food and drink on offer that lunchtime. And again, as though they had discussed the evening in detail, they both avoided each other’s eyes when they arrived at the clearing where the tent was being pitched, both refrained from asking questions or from causing any bad feeling. Instead, they watched, listened and helped set up camp for the night.
No one seemed to be paying much attention to them; they were called in to help from time to time – Evie to help Martha prepare some food, Raffy to help Angel and Linus find firewood. But other than that it was as though they’d been accepted, as though this strange little community had become
their
community. Evie still hadn’t forgotten the way Angel had hit Raffy, or the way Linus had sneered at him as he tortured him for answers. But somehow those memories were receding, somehow they felt less real than the camaraderie that she felt between them now, the protection.
‘We eat. Then when everyone goes to bed, we wait. Once they’re asleep, we make our move.’
Raffy had appeared next to her; his voice was low and urgent, his eyes looking straight ahead as though he wasn’t talking to her at all.
Evie swallowed; her throat had dried up again. ‘You’re sure we should leave?’ she whispered.
‘What?’ Raffy forgot himself and swung round to face her, a frown on his face. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I just think there might be safety in numbers,’ Evie said anxiously; she could feel that her palms were damp with worry. ‘And where will we go?’
‘We’ll go where we want,’ Raffy said, his eyes narrowing. ‘On our own terms.’
‘But they’ve got food and shelter,’ Evie said. She could see that Raffy was getting angry with her but she couldn’t stop herself.
Raffy turned away and folded his arms. ‘If you want to stay with Linus, with his lies and his rules and his threats, then you do that,’ he seethed. But I’m not. I’m getting out of here.’
Evie took a deep breath. Then she wrapped her hand around Raffy’s arm. ‘Then I’m coming with you,’ she said quietly.