‘Safe,’ her mother said, the word just decipherable.
‘Safe,’ Evie repeated excitedly, their first real communication, the first sign that she was being understood. ‘I’m not going back to the City. I’m going to stay here with you. I’m going to look after you. I’m going to—’
The movement was too quick for her to respond to, too unexpected to be prepared for. Evie wasn’t even sure how it had happened, but she suddenly found herself in a vice-like grip, her mother’s arm pressed against her neck, her mother’s elbow digging into her clavicle. Evie forced herself to stay calm; her mother was afraid. She needed reassurance. Other damaged ones were moving towards the door; Evie realised too late that she had failed to lock it again, that they were opening it, shrieking in delight as they tugged at the zips. Soon there was a stampede as they started to tumble over each other.
‘You’re safe,’ Evie said again, trying to avoid being trampled. ‘You don’t have to hurt me. I’m on your side. I’m here to help you. I’m here to—’
‘City,’ her mother screamed. ‘City!’
‘No,’ Evie said, trying to loosen her mother’s grip as her hand pressed against Evie’s vocal passage, making her gasp for air. She had to reach the door before the others got out. Had to calm her mother down. Perhaps mention of the City had brought back terrifying memories. ‘No, we’re not in the City. You’re safe here. You’re—’
‘City,’ her mother screamed again as the door opened and damaged ones spilled out, their howls echoing around the covered corridor and reminding Evie of the Evils’ howls heard from her bedroom as a child. She managed to suppress her fear, reminded herself that it was different, that they were different, that
she
was.
But her mother’s grip was becoming too tight to bear; her oxygen supply was diminishing, and the other damaged ones were all leaving the tent. Evie gasped; heard voices, heard more angry howling from the damaged ones. And then the door opened again and Angel walked in, flanked by Linus and Martha; behind them other men were bringing the damaged ones back in, their hands behind their backs as they struggled and kicked out.
Evie’s mother looked up, pulling Evie with her and making her cry out silently in pain as the pressure against her throat intensified. ‘City or die. City or she die.’
‘Annabel, let go of the girl.’ It was Linus speaking, but Evie could barely hear him. Her mind was going dark; stars were appearing in front of her eyes. He and Angel approached; Evie’s mother tightened her grip.
‘Take me City or she die,’ she said.
‘You’re not going to the City, Annabel,’ Linus said, and then Evie felt her neck being crushed and she knew for certain that she was dead, that the blackness was final, that everything was over. Then suddenly the pressure was released and she gagged, and someone’s arms were around her and she was being sick and gasping frantically, and she was alive, and the pain around her neck made her cry out but still she pushed the arms away because she knew they weren’t her mother’s arms, knew that she had to find her, explain again . . .
She whipped round, her eyes searching through the confusion of men, damaged ones – and Raffy running towards her.
‘Evie!’ he shouted. ‘Evie, are you okay? What happened? What . . .’
She shook her head. ‘My mother,’ she tried to say, but her voice had forsaken her. ‘My mother . . .’
‘Your mother? You think this is your mother?’ Linus cried; behind him Evie saw Angel holding her mother. All the light had gone out of her eyes; she was limp.
‘What have you done to her?’ she asked angrily. ‘What have you done?’
‘Sedated her,’ Linus said, his eyes seeking hers, refusing to let her look elsewhere. ‘You thought she was your mother?’
‘I know she is,’ Evie said bitterly. ‘I’m going to look after her. I’m going to take care of her. Stop you giving her drugs every time she gets angry. We’re going to look after each other.’
‘You think she’s capable of looking after you?’ Linus sighed. ‘Okay, Angel, take her to her bed. Evie, come with me please.’
He didn’t wait for a reply; he took her by the arm, led her out of the tent, sat her down and gave her some water. ‘You want to save that woman? You want to look after her?’
‘She’s not that woman. She’s my mother,’ Evie insisted, slumping over. Tears of frustration, anger and loneliness were running down her face. ‘I know she is. Why won’t you just admit it? Why do you care, anyway? No one else does.’
‘I care because it’s not true,’ Linus said, sitting back and putting his arm around her; she stiffened and he withdrew it.
‘How do you know?’ Evie swung round to face him, her eyes flashing angrily. ‘How do you know?’
‘Because she only came to us a year ago.’ Linus looked pained, suddenly, his eyes darker. ‘Because . . .’ He stopped, put his head in his hands briefly, then turned to Evie again. ‘Evie, she’s not your mother. I know that. But even if she was . . . even if we found her . . . You have to understand. The damaged ones are not human, not as we are. When the amygdala was removed, it was supposed to remove the evil from people’s brains, but in reality, it removes everything. All morality. All idea of good and evil, cause and effect. The damaged ones are . . . damaged, Evie. Irreparably damaged. Annabel is one of the more advanced, or the less brutalised, whichever way you want to look at it. She has desires, which is more than can be said for the others.’
‘Desires? So that makes her human,’ Evie whispered. ‘That makes her like us.’
‘No,’ Linus disagreed. ‘No, it just makes her dangerous. Because she has only one desire. And that desire is to go back to the City. She thinks that we stole her away, that we’re keeping her from the place she struggled for so long to get to. She doesn’t know what happened to her there. She doesn’t know that they tossed her out.’
‘I can explain,’ Evie said uncertainly. ‘I can make her see . . .’
‘She was going to kill you,’ Linus stated, his voice serious, his eyes suddenly staring at her intently. ‘She was going to kill you. That’s how much she wants to go back to the City. Do you see? She lured you in as bait.’
‘No.’ Evie shook her head, tears streaming down her face. ‘No.’
‘Yes,’ Linus said, putting his hand on hers. ‘That’s why we need to go back to the City. That’s why we need to change things. Fight back. For your parents. For all the other damaged ones. For all the D’s and the K’s and for all the misery the Brother’s System has caused.’
‘And my parents?’ Evie asked defiantly.
Linus breathed out slowly. ‘Your parents, if they are still alive, are incapable of being your parents.’
‘No.’ Evie shook her head. ‘No, that’s not true. You just want me to think that so I’ll help you with your plan. So I’ll give you the City key. Well I won’t. Not unless you set my mother free.’
Linus looked at her, his eyes crinkling. ‘Evie, we have the key. You think it’s been in Raffy’s rucksack all this time?’
Evie glared at him. ‘You have it?’
‘We’ve been planning this a long time,’ Linus replied. ‘Your key, Lucas, these are the ingredients that urged us forward. But not by much. We’ve been ready. We’ve been waiting. Are you with us? Are you going to come? Fight? Change things?’
Evie looked at him, took in his nut-brown, lined face, his twinkly blue eyes, the kindness, the strength and the pain etched across his features. Then she looked back at the damaged ones’ tent, where Angel stood outside and Raffy stood next to him, looking at her anxiously, giving her a little smile when he caught her eye.
And she nodded, a small movement that could have easily been missed. But Linus didn’t miss it.
‘Atta girl,’ he said under his breath, the words more encouraging this time, as his arm moved back around her and gave her a squeeze. ‘And Evie, you’re not alone. There’s no reason to feel that. We’re with you. Your friend Raffy is with you, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. And . . .’ He stood up. ‘And I imagine Lucas will be happy to see you, too.’ He winked, and Evie felt a strange sensation, like somehow Linus knew something. But he couldn’t. It was impossible. And before she could think about it any more, he was gone. When she looked up she saw Raffy hovering, a few feet away, his expression unreadable.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked, his hands in his pockets.
‘Everything’s fine,’ she managed to reply.
Raffy nodded, then slowly walked towards her and sat down at her side. He didn’t touch her, didn’t talk to her, but he sat there. And for that, Evie was more grateful than she could put into words.
Dirt, dust and grime in her eyes, in her nose, choking her. A hand around hers, pulling her on, reassuring her. A rock catches her unawares and she falls, her face pressed into the ground; she lifts her head and wipes her forehead – there is blood on the back of her hand. Her lip begins to quiver but before tears can come she is swept up; her arms wrap around a familiar neck and the journey continues.
The rhythm of his walking calms her; she feels safe. His body is warm; she nestles into him. She can smell him; sweat, hunger, determination, love. ‘Nearly there,’ he murmurs into her ear. ‘Nearly there, my darling.’
‘Just you wait,’ he says as she drifts off to sleep. ‘We’re going to the land of plenty. Of peace. We’re going to be so happy, Evangeline. You just wait and see . . .’
A vision. Light. Men coming towards them. They are safe. She is safe. She sees the smiles on the faces of her father, her mother; their eyes lit up. They squeeze her hands. ‘We are here, Evie. At last we are here. We told you, didn’t we? We told you we’d find it . . .’
And then one of the other men comes towards her and tries to take her. And her father tries to hold onto her. ‘What are you doing? This is our daughter. She is with us. We are together. We are—’
But the man is not listening; he does not see them, does not hear her mother’s cries. He takes Evie and marches away; she can still hear her parents’ frantic questions, asking where she is going, when they will see her next. She hears them shouting her name, telling her they will see her soon.
The man smiles at her. ‘Forget about them,’ he says. ‘They are not worth thinking about any more. Come with me . . .’
She is in a room. It is cold, it is dark. She feels strange arms around her; her throat hoarse from crying, she is silent now. She feels her head fall forward; feels her eyes closing. She wants to sleep, but she forces them open again. She cannot sleep now, she knows that – the man has told her, the man who smiles but with danger in his eyes. He has told her that her parents do not exist, that the people she travelled for so long with, the people whose hope and stories of salvation kept her strong when she felt weak, who gave her the motivation to keep walking when all she wanted to do was curl up, give up, are no longer here. That they have gone. That they have deserted her, just as they always intended to.
The people stare at her. She looks down at her feet; it is something that she has learnt to do. Only make eye contact when you know what is happening, when you know that you are safe. She has seen violence in her life; she has seen men killed in front of her, seen savages taking human bodies for meat. Her parents have tried to tell her that the world can be a beautiful place, but she is wiser than her years. She knows that it is not.
‘Delphine. Ralph. Would you like to meet her properly?’ A couple approach Evie.
‘Evangeline?’ The man is the first to speak. He crouches down to her level. ‘Evangeline, I am so glad you are here. I’m your father. This is your mother. We have been waiting for you.’
Evie is startled. She was prepared for many things, but not this. She breaks her rule; looks up. Their eyes lock.
‘My father,’ she says. ‘My father is . . .’ She trails off; she doesn’t know how to finish the sentence, doesn’t know where her father is.
‘I am your father, Evangeline,’ the man says gently but firmly. ‘The man you came with will be looked after. He needs our help, and you want us to help him, don’t you? You want us to help all the people you came with.’
Evie nods. The man offers her food and water; she takes it hungrily.
‘Is she diseased? Is there anything wrong with her?’ This time it is the woman speaking; her eyes are scrutinising her, making Evie feel self-conscious.
‘She is not diseased, Delphine. She is three years old. She is the daughter you have longed for, is she not?’ The first man stares at Evie. ‘You are the daughter that this lady has been longing for, aren’t you? You will be a good, loyal daughter, to her and to the City? Won’t you?’
Evie nods. She knows that her parents are gone. She knows.
‘I will be a good daughter,’ she says, her voice quiet, husky.
‘You will when you’ve had the New Baptism,’ the woman retorts.
‘She will have it in the morning,’ the first man reassures her calmly. ‘With the others.’
‘She’s perfect,’ says the man who calls himself her father. ‘Delphine, come on. There are people waiting. Let’s take her home. Let’s take her.’
The woman looks her up and down one more time, then nods. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘She’ll do.’
She holds out her hand and Evie takes it.
‘Your name is Evangeline?’ her new father asks her. Evie nods. ‘I think we’ll call you Evie,’ he says.
‘My parents call me Evie,’ she whispers.
The woman stops, grabs her shoulders. ‘We are your parents,’ she hisses. ‘You do not have other parents, do you understand? Only evil children talk about other parents. Only wicked, terrible children who are punished for their wickedness. We are your parents. Forget the people you came with, just as they have forgotten you. Do you understand? Do you?’
Evie nods. She does understand. Suddenly, as she wakes up, she understands everything.
They walked in silence, Linus at the front with Martha, then Raffy and Evie, and three other men. The damaged ones were being brought separately in a transporter by Angel and five other men who would meet Linus and the others a mile from the City.
The plan was simple enough. Let the damaged ones into the City via the East Gate, wait for the uproar to start, then sneak round to the West Gate where Lucas would be waiting. Then it would be straight to the government building where Linus and Raffy would get to work, changing the System back to what it was always meant to be. Meanwhile Evie and Martha would send out new System changes, making everyone an A, telling them in their letters that the labelling was a farce, that it was over, that a new dawn had begun. Lucas and Angel would take the Brother, make sure that he gave the order for the letters to go out, and make sure that his reign came to an end as soon as everyone knew the truth.