Impersonator (Forager Impersonator - A Post Apocalyptic Trilogy Book 1) (17 page)

We turned and saw a somewhat incensed Ryan running towards us. Straightening up a little, I met his gaze and frantically shook my head. I didn’t want him to get hurt too – I’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

“Take your hands off him!” Ryan barked when he reached us.

“This doesn’t concern you, boy,” Deacon said. He let go of me and turned to confront Ryan. They were about the same height, but Wells towered above them both.

“You touch my friend, it concerns me. Now nick off.” Ryan wasn’t cowed in the slightest, but he had no idea of the danger he was in.

Deacon gave an almost imperceptible nod and stepped back. Wells immediately leaped into action, striding forward and swinging a punch at Ryan’s head that would fell a tree.

Ryan sidestepped and effortlessly redirected the blow past him. After that, he snapped a right jab into Wells jaw, and followed with a left cross. The big man staggered back, blinking rapidly as he tried to maintain his balance.

“You punk!” Deacon snarled. He came in next, fists swinging.

Ryan stepped in closer, letting a punch glance off his jaw that made his teeth rattle. Undaunted, he slammed a left hook to the side of Deacon’s face followed by an uppercut that snapped his head back. The older man went down, shaking his head. He seemed genuinely surprised that Ryan bested him, but not as much as me, perhaps. I thought they would’ve pummelled Ryan into a bruised and bloody pulp. Where on earth did he learn to fight like that!

Deacon regained his feet and Ryan moved towards him with fists raised, but I jumped forward, grabbing his arm and tugging him backwards. “Stop – please!”

Ryan looked at me in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Deacon glanced at Wells, and when he saw he was still unsteady on his feet, he turned back to me. “You’ll pay for this.” With that, he placed a hand on his towering sidekick and the two of them disappeared amongst the apartment blocks.

My heart missed a beat when I saw the envelope with my wage lying on the sidewalk. Deacon hadn’t even bothered to pick it up. I was so dead! The beating they gave me as a message to Brandon was going to seem like a friendly pat on the back compared to what they’d do next time I saw them. Worse, they’d probably attack both “Brandon’ and “me,” meaning I’d get a double thrashing.

Ryan grabbed me by the shoulders and swung me around to face him. “What’s wrong with you? Why weren’t you fighting back? Why did you stop me?”

“What’s wrong with me? Do you know what you’ve just done?” I was scared, angry, and shaking.

“What I’ve done? Why did you just stand there and let them rob you?”

“They weren’t robbing me! Why couldn’t you have just butted out?” I spat. “Didn’t you notice me shaking my head, telling you not to get involved?”

I batted his hands away from my shoulders and paced up and down, fretting, wondering if I should grab the money and race after them. Maybe if I got on my knees and apologised they’d let me off easy? Yeah, right.

Ryan took hold of my elbow. “If they weren’t robbing you, what were they doing? I saw you handing over your wage!”

I tried to shake off his hand, but his grip was like a vice. “Ryan, you’ve made everything a hundred times worse!”

“Made what worse? Come on, Brandon, talk to me.” His face suddenly lit up. “The injuries you had on Wednesday – they did that to you?”

“Just drop it!”

“Answer me, blast it!”

“Okay, yes. It was them. And now thanks to you, the next time I see them they’ll put me in hospital!”

“You owe them money, right?” He looked mildly sympathetic.

Reluctantly, I nodded.

“Because they supplied you with drugs?”

“Oh, for goodness sake, lay off about the drugs!” I shouted, forgetting to keep my voice an octave lower. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice.

“If not drugs, then what?”

“My father racked up a ton of debt, okay? Debts they lumped on me when he was locked up.”

“Leaning on people because they owe money is illegal, Brandon. Go to the Custodians and those two will be behind bars quick smart. I’ll even testify on your behalf.”

“They’ve made it clear that if I do that, their associates will get revenge against my mother and sister – sisters. So I’m trapped, Ryan.”

“How much do you owe? Maybe I can help?” That concerned look framed his face again, compassion pouring from his eyes. How I wished we could share a genuine friendship, not one marred by my deception. He was such a nice guy.

I sighed. “Look, thanks, but it’s gonna take my entire life to pay it off.”

He let go of my elbow. “There’s got to be a way out of this fix.”

I plucked my money off the ground and stuffed it in my pocket. “If there is, I sure can’t see it. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to get home and make sure those guys aren’t paying my mother and sisters a visit.”

“I’ll come with you–”

“No! You’ve done enough!” I stuck my hands up, and then bolted, running as fast as I could manage. If those guys were headed for the homeless shelter, I had to get there before them. If they put me in hospital, so be it, but I couldn’t let them hurt Karen or Mother.

Life sucked.

* * *

I got home in relatively short order and was relieved to find that Deacon and Wells had not popped over. I filled my mother and sister in on what happened. Needless to say, Mother was not happy. I gave her the packet of money to give to Deacon should they turn up when I wasn’t here for some reason, and then we waited.

An hour passed and there was still no sign of them. I was so troubled in mind and soul, dreading my next confrontation with them.

Tired of my endless fretting and pacing, Mother eventually told me to shower and shed my Brandon persona.

I had just put up my hair when I heard booted feet approach our quarters. I could tell by the gait it wasn’t Deacon and Wells. Worse – it was Ryan.

“Shoot!” I exclaimed, eyes darting frantically from my mother to my sister.

Karen rose unsurely to her feet. “What is it?”

“Someone’s coming,” I replied. I couldn’t tell them I knew who it was.

“Is it them?” Mother fished the money from her pocket, hands trembling.

The footsteps paused and there was a gentle knock at the door.

I glanced back at her. “No, I don’t think so.”

I knew I risked blowing my dual-identity if Ryan saw me, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to meet him as myself at last. The very thought sent butterflies flitting through my stomach. What if I didn’t make a positive impression on him? What if he ignored me, seeking only to speak to ‘Brandon.’

He knocked again.

“Shall I get it?” Mother asked, coming forward.

“No, I’ve got it.” Heart racing, I opened the door halfway, and with head held high, stared at him sternly.

Ryan’s eyes lit up with surprise. At first I thought he’d made me, but after glancing at my purple birthmark and momentarily meeting my gaze, he quickly looked down, looking uncomfortable.

I couldn’t believe it – he was shy!

Because of me.

Even better, he didn’t realise who I was. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. With my damp hair put up in a bun, wearing an ankle length brown dress with long sleeves, and without a baseball hat shading my face, I probably looked nothing like my alter ego.

“Can I help you?” I asked, taking care to use my normal voice.

“Sorry to disturb you, Miss. I’m Ryan Hill, one of Brandon’s workmates. He lives here, right? I was hoping to speak with him.” He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Sorry, he’s not in at the moment.” I stared at him, trying to hide my amusement at this insight into another aspect of his character. His normal confident self evaporated around girls. Who would have guessed?

“Do you know where he is? I’d really like to catch up with him?” He noticed me staring, and puzzled, returned my unwavering gaze.

“Sorry, he didn’t say.”

He nodded thoughtfully, and raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t happen to be his twin sister, Chelsea, would you?”

“That’s right.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I frowned. “Good things or bad things?”

“He talks very highly of you.” He risked a hesitant smile.

“Lucky for him.” I laughed.

“Hey, I brought something for you – for your family.” He ducked out of view and then popped back with four wooden dining room chairs stacked together.

My hands flew to my mouth in surprise. They were our chairs, the broken one’s I pointed out to him in the Recycling Works two nights ago. Except they weren’t broken anymore.

I opened the door wider. “Brandon said the chairs were all busted up!”

Ryan blushed a dark shade of red. “Yeah. I, ah, fixed them. You know, in my own time.”

For a moment, I feared he would ask to bring them inside and see the humiliating depths of our fall from grace. But to my amazement, he picked up the chairs one at a time and passed them to me.

I carried the first chair inside, to the wonder of my mother and sister. Karen accompanied me back to the door to help carry in the others.

“This is my sister, Karen,” I said.

His eyes lit up at the sight of my beautiful sister. “Oh, ah, nice to meet you, Karen,” he said. He smiled bashfully and then looked away before he could be accused of staring.

Karen accepted the chair he offered and retreated inside as fast as she could while still maintaining decorum.

“How did you get the chairs here?” I asked after we finished carrying them inside. Our room looked so much better already. Now we all had somewhere to sit.

“Borrowed a trolley.”

I laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “Thank you for your kindness. It’s something we’ve seen very little of these past weeks. I wish there was some way we could repay you.”

His eyes widened at my boldness in initiating physical contact, even though it was innocent. “Oh no, it’s the least I can do. Brandon’s a mate, and besides, I owe him for saving my life.”

“He did what?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That he saved me – our whole team, actually – from a Skel ambush,” he said.

I pursed my lips. “No, he didn’t. Looks like I’ll be having a word with that young man when he gets home.”

Ryan looked taken aback. “I haven’t gone and gotten him in trouble, have I?”

“No more than he deserves.” I smiled again.

Ryan laughed. “You’re pretty funny, you know that?”

“You making fun of me, Ryan Hill?”

“Of course not!” He seemed taken aback by the suggestion. “It’s just that you’re not like other girls I’ve met.”

“You meet a lot of girls?” I fixed him with an accusatory stare.

“No! That’s not what I meant. You’re just more self-assured and upbeat than I’m used to.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I think.” I was fighting to stop myself from laughing.

The door abruptly swung wider and my mother appeared, her face an iron mask. “Thank you bringing over our chairs, young man. We are in your debt. When Brandon returns, I will let him know you were looking for him.”

That said, my mother pulled me back from the door and shut it in Ryan’s face.

“Mother, that was rude!” I protested after I heard Ryan’s footsteps recede towards the elevator.

“You were embarrassing yourself, Eldest Daughter – practically flirting with him!”

“How dare you accuse me of being immodest!” I was so tired of her attacking my person and character.

“I was standing right here!”

“He’s pretty cute, actually,” Karen said. She had a dreamy look in her eyes.

“Oh, don’t be so naive. All males are the same – utterly useless.” Mother was glaring at both of us now. 

“Is he in Brandon’s foraging team?” Karen asked.

“He is, though he and Brandon haven’t actually met.”

“What are you talking about? He was asking after him,” Mother said.

“He joined the foraging team the same day I did. So it’s me he met, not Brandon.”

That rattled her cage. “You mean to say you’re working with that young man every day? I’m really not happy with you masquerading as your brother, Daughter. More now than ever. How long before they discover who you really are?”

“They won’t.”

“All it will take is one small slip up.”

The sanitary pad falling out of my backpack sprang immediately to mind. “I’m being careful.”

“Make sure you’re never alone with him – or any of them, for that matter.” She stared at me, trying to ascertain whether that had ever been the case.

“Don’t worry, Mother, there’s five of us in the team.”

She turned away, muttering to herself, and sat in the battered homeless shelter chair, rather than in the one Ryan delivered. She was so infuriating!

* * *

I couldn’t sleep that night, just tossed and turned as an endless parade of horrific scenarios ran through my mind. What would happen should Deacon front-up tomorrow?

I skipped breakfast when morning came, moping about until it was nearly midday. When it became apparent the debt collectors’ were not going to pay us a visit, I donned my Brandon disguise and hit the town in an attempt to walk off the palpable anxiety that was threatening to send me into hysteria.

As I wandered through poorly maintained streets set between ten-story apartment blocks, I realised I simply couldn’t face another beating like the last one. I had put on a brave face for my mother and sister, but I was quaking with terror now. I couldn’t even handle the thought of Wells stomping on my legs again with his massive boots, and I knew that what they did next time would be far worse. And all thanks to Ryan. I knew he meant well, but I was going to pay for it with broken bones if not worse. My life had descended into an endless living nightmare, and I couldn’t live like this anymore.

I walked aimlessly down the road leading to the town’s eastern gates, thinking of the foragers from Ballarat and the freedoms they enjoyed. No Custodians, freedom to come and go as they pleased, no town walls, and equality for women.

Seething with resentment, I stared at the twelve-foot high gates, the five Custodians standing guard before them, and the guard tower on the wall beside it.

Then, as though a light had been switched on, I knew what I had to do to escape Newhome with my family. A bold, daring plan formed in my mind even as I stood there. A plan that would work, I was sure of it. I wouldn’t be able to do it alone, though. It required numbers, preparation, and careful planning.

I had to see Con and convince him to take the idea onboard. It was my only hope. I pivoted about and hastened to the Foragers’ Club, figuring Con and the others would be there, since it was Saturday. As I went, I continued formulating the plan, throwing up every possible obstacle I could think of, and seeking a solution to overcome it.

* * *

“You wanna run that by me again?” Con said, his beady eyes almost bulging out of his head. He had been playing pool with Matt and a couple of guys I didn’t know. When they finished, I dragged him and Matt over to a table in the corner where no one could overhear us.

“Let’s escape this dump – us foragers and our families – and go to Ballarat,” I repeated. “You do know about Ballarat, right? No Custodians, no wall, no oppressive society.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Con stared at me as though I was off my rocker. “And of course I know about Ballarat!”

“Well?”

“How exactly do you suggest we do that? Go up to the Custodians and politely ask if we can leave?” Matt asked.

“We meet near the eastern gates in the early morning hours, overpower the guards on watch and in the tower, open the gates, and run.”

“That’s a fantastic idea, Brandon. I wonder why no one else ever thought of it?” Con’s voice dripped with cynicism. “Maybe because of the curfew and Custodian night patrols that would make it impossible for anyone to get near the gates at night? Maybe because the Custodians at the gate have high-powered assault rifles?” He pushed his chair back, about to leave.

“We stage a distraction on the other side of town. That’ll draw off the patrols. We deal with the guards at the gate with trickery. Put foragers on both sides of the gate, and send in a hysterical girl with fake blood all over her. While the guards are trying to deal with the girl, the foragers jump them.”

“And the guard tower?” Matt asked.

“Those guards are watching the ruins, right? We rush them at the same time. Maybe even throw in a homemade flash bomb or something.” I watched their reactions intently, hope etched on my face. They had to go for this, they just had to.

“You’ve been reading too many novels in the ruins,” Con growled.

“I don’t know – Brandon could be onto something here,” Matt said. He furrowed his brow in thought.

“You can’t be serious?”

“Think about it. If can we pull this off, we’ll be free. No more sneaking around, looking over our shoulders, afraid we’re gonna get busted at any moment. No more trying to amass enough money to buy our way into North End,” he replied.

“Still easier said than done. What kind of distraction could be staged on the other side of town?” He looked at me.

“We set an empty building on fire.” I said.

“Great if you want to drag the fire fighters out of bed. Not if you want to distract the Custodian patrols,” he said.

“Set fire to several buildings, then. Surely every Custodian and his dog’ll go running, suspecting foul play,” Matt said.

“So you think it’s doable?” Con asked.

“It would have to be executed perfectly.” Matt nodded.

The scepticism was slowly fading from Con’s face. “Indeed. We would also have to plan for the walk to Ballarat. Everyone would need good shoes or boots, backpacks filled with a couple of day’s worth of water and food, blankets, and some medical supplies. We’d also need guns in case Skel attack us on the way.”

“Don’t like our chances of smuggling guns in here,” Matt said.

“You don’t need to. Make a secret stash of guns, blankets, bottles of water and blankets, in the ruins just outside town,” I said.

“Good thinking, kid!” Matt thumped the table excitedly. “So the first thing we do after breaking out is go to that cache and load up. That would also make it much easier to move quickly through the town on the way to the gates before the breakout.”

“How long would it take to get to Ballarat, by the way?” I asked.

“As I said, a couple of days,” Con replied. He was eyeing me thoughtfully, no doubt contemplating a better future for the first time in his life.

“So, are we gonna do this?” I couldn’t keep the hope from my face. I had half expected them to ridicule the idea and laugh in my face.

“Not so hasty, Brandon. First, I have to run it by the foragers we can trust to keep the lid on it. We need to get the majority of them on board if this is to have any chance of succeeding.”

“The ones we can trust?” I asked.

“The ones who work at the lab, duh. Too many do-gooders amongst the others – one of 'em could even turn us in,” he replied. “Oh, and before I even consider getting this ball rolling, I have one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t breathe a word of this to Ryan.”

I felt like I’d just been punched in the gut. The fact was, I hadn’t consciously thought about asking him, as my thoughts were focused on getting myself and my family away from the debt collectors. But now that Con mentioned him, I realised that deep down I was hoping Ryan would come too. Because if he came, there would be no rules or regulations preventing us from spending time together.

“Promise me, Brandon, or this doesn’t happen.” Con’s beady eyes bore right through me.

“Okay, fine!” I was irritated, and I let it show, but he had boxed me into a corner. My family came first – I simply had to get them away from this place and Father’s legacy.

“Good.” Con leaned closer. “Because if you let it slip and Ryan finds out, you’ll give us no choice but to take matters into our own hands again. But if we do, the Custodian are sure to sit up and take notice this time.”

“I won’t tell him.”

Con grunted in satisfaction, and then he and Matt went off to run the idea past some of the other foragers present. As I watched them go, I wondered what he meant when he said they would have ‘to take matters into our own hands again.’ What had they done in the past? Why would it draw the Custodians attention if they did it again?