The Fearless (27 page)

Mara
.

As she unlocks my cage, I realize what’s been nagging at me. Her resemblance to Myo is unmistakable. She could be his twin.

You were caught, weren’t you?
I hear myself asking him, and his muttered reply:
Aye
.

That’s why he was able to see where he was going, even when it was pitch-dark.

And what about his strength, and his speed?

What about his eye?

Of course he was here before, you idiot
, I tell myself.
He was Altered. He’s FEARLESS.

And this girl, Mara – the girl who kidnapped Jori – is the sister he told me about back at the bunker.
That’s
why he was on Hope.

He was with her and the man all along.

I kissed him
, I think, going cold all over with revulsion.
I
kissed
him
.

The Fearless who injected Cy reaches into my cage, grabs my hair and pulls my head forward. I don’t even have time to scream before he jabs the syringe into the base of my neck.

For a fraction of a second, I feel nothing at all. Then warmth spreads up into my skull, and a heavy, woozy, pleasant feeling overcomes me. My vision starts to recede, closing in at the edges. I gasp, trying to fight it, but it’s as if every cell in my body is shutting down.

As the door clangs shut, I slump against the cage bars, and pass out.

When I wake up again, my headache is a hundred – a thousand – times worse than the one I had before, the light from the lanterns stabbing into the backs of my eyes. When I try to move, my stomach clenches, and I double over, retching into a corner of the cage, even though I have nothing to bring up except bile and strings of saliva.

‘The first time’s a killer,’ someone says as I spit, trying to clear the rancid taste out of my mouth – an older girl in a cage nearby. Her face sags downwards on one side, her mouth drooping. I wonder if it’s some sort of nerve damage caused by the serum.

‘Close your eyes and take deep breaths,’ the girl says as another band of pain squeezes around my skull. ‘It’ll pass in a bit.’

I try to do as she says. All I can think is,
I need more serum
. Anything to take this headache away.

When the nausea has eased a little, I open my eyes again and heave myself upright, avoiding the stinking puddle in the corner of the cage. I look across at Jori. He’s sitting up too, his face wet with tears. ‘Jor,’ I croak, reaching out through the cage bars towards him. My brother stretches out his hand too. In the next cage, Cy is lying on his side, his knees drawn up, his eyes flickering underneath his closed eyelids. I can’t tell if he’s asleep or unconscious.

A while later, Mara returns, bringing cups of water and some sort of greyish bread which she shoves through the cage bars. I don’t want it, but the girl with the drooping face says softly, ‘If you don’t eat, you’ll Alter much faster.’ Even though I’m not remotely hungry, I cram the bread into my mouth and wash it down with the brackish-tasting water, encouraging Jori to do the same.

The smell of cooking meat drifts into the cage room from somewhere close by. The Fearless must be preparing a meal. My nausea returns with a vengeance as I imagine what that meat might be. They all look fairly well fed, even the ones who are badly affected by the serum, and - well, where
do
they get their food if it’s not . . .

No.
No
. I don’t want to think about it. To distract myself, I watch Mara shuffling from cage to cage. She’s still wearing the keys. I wish I could get hold of them.

Cy coughs. He’s awake, sitting up with his arms, which are still tied at the wrists, hugged around his knees.

‘Did you know?’ I ask him. ‘About Myo, I mean?’

He jerks his head round. His gaze is blank and staring, the spider-web tattoo across the top of his skull standing out in stark relief against his pale skin. He mumbles something, then launches himself at me, crashing into the side of his cage so hard it rocks against mine. I scramble back as he shoves his fingers through the bars, trying to reach for me even though his wrists are bound. He begins to laugh, a screeching cackle that fills my veins with ice. What’s happening? Has he Altered already? No – he can’t have – his eyes are still blue. And he’s only had a few doses of the serum.

The one-eyed woman strides into the room with a Fearless man who’s as fat as she is. They drag Cy out of his cage, and the man holds him while the one-eyed woman does something to his face – I can’t see what, because they’re facing away from me. Cy howls and bucks in the man’s arms.

‘A clever trick,’ the woman says, flicking something away. ‘Put him back. Another twenty-four hours, he’ll be ready.’

The man bundles Cy back into his cage.

Another twenty-four hours, he’ll be ready.

I huddle against the side of my cage, trying to put as much distance between myself and Cy as possible. When he turns to look at me, I already know what I’m going to see.

One eye is silver, and the other is a muddy grey.

He’s almost Altered.
Already
.

‘He was wearing lenses,’ the woman with the drooping face says. ‘I saw them take them out.’

So he must have already been Fearless
, I think.

Just like Myo, who wore that eyepatch to hide his silver eye.

What else did Myo lie about? And how did he manage to act so
normal
? It was totally believable. I fell for it hook, line and sinker. I bet they couldn’t believe how gullible I was.

I lie down on my side, curling into a tight ball. What will it feel like when I Alter? Will I be aware of it? How long have I got left? How long has Jori got?

So you’re just going to give up?
a little voice in my head says.
You came all this way just to GIVE UP?

I try to ignore it, but it keeps on nagging at me. With an angry sigh, I sit up again. What the hell can I do? The one-eyed Fearless woman took my knife. And the cage bars might be rusty, but they’re strong.

I gaze at the chunks of stone and concrete strewn across the floor, wondering if I could use a piece to smash the lock. No, it would make too much noise. But nearby – near enough for me to reach – is a metal chair leg with a jagged end. I prod the damp-softened wood at the edges of the cage floor. Could I use the sharp end of the chair leg to gouge it out and get the bottom of the cage loose?

They’ll see you
, the little voice in my head says.

No they won’t
, I tell it.
Not if I’m careful. I can lie on top of what I’m doing to hide it.

Cy’s rocking back and forth, muttering. So are some of the others – they must be nearly Altered too. I reach through the bars for the chair leg, and see Jori watching me. I raise a finger to my lips. Jori’s eyes widen.

The chair leg is further away than it looks, and at first I think I’m not going to be able to get it after all. With a grunt of frustration, I shove my shoulder right up against the bars, and finally manage to snag it with my fingertips.

The cage floor is even more rotten than I thought; it takes me less than an hour to dig a narrow trench almost six inches long. My hands get blistered and sore, but I carry on digging, forgetting the pain in my head as the trench, which I disguise by stuffing the pieces I dig out back into it, slowly lengthens. Jori watches, his face solemn.

‘They’re coming,’ the woman with the drooping face says. I look round and see, with a jolt of horror, that one of her eyes has started to go cloudy. Even though I can’t hear anything, another memory pops into my head: the way Gina heard the ragged man’s laughter from across the city. Enhanced hearing; enhanced night vision – why did it take me so long to realize what they were?

I push the chair leg up my sleeve and lie on my side so the curve of my body hides the gouge in the plywood. A few moments later, Mara, the one-eyed woman and the two men enter the cage room.

With every ounce of self-control I possess, I force myself to lie still as Mara unlocks my cage and steps back to let one of the men inject me again. There’s that instant of bliss, and I just have time to think
please don’t let them find out what I’m doing
before I lose consciousness.

When I wake up again, my head feels like it’s on fire, but I’m still in my cage, and the chair leg is still up my sleeve. I wait until the Fearless have brought round the food – more bread and water – then start digging again. I have to get out of here before Jori Alters.

And then I have to get us both as far away from the Torturehouse, Myo, Mara, and the rest of the Fearless as I can.

Two days later

‘For God’s sake, Myo. You’re making me nervous,’ Ben growls from the bed in the corner as I pace across to the window.

I ignore him. The window has no glass, and the damp, chilly air blasts against my face. For the last two days, Ben, Gina and I have been holed up on the tenth floor of an old apartment block. Half a mile away, the Torturehouse is just visible through the rain, which started last night, washing away the snow.

‘How’s your leg?’ Gina asks Ben, going over to the bed.

‘Sore, but it’s healing OK.’ He glances at me. ‘I guess being part-Fearless has
some
advantages.’

‘Let me see.’ Gina’s been applying antiseptic cream and changing his bandages twice a day. ‘You’re right. It looks fine. No infection. Another day or two and you should be able to walk on it without opening it up again.’

‘Good,’ Ben says. ‘I can’t wait to get out of here.’

I carry on staring out of the window. Even though I already know that we’re not going back there, Ben’s words are like a punch in the gut. Every night since Cass was captured, I’ve dreamed of her, and when I wake up and she’s not there, it’s like I’ve lost her all over again.

I think about the first time I ended up at the Torturehouse. The Invasion happened when Mara and I were ten. We were back in the children’s home in Glasgow after our latest set of foster parents decided they didn’t want us any more, and I hated it. So did Mara. But there was nowhere else for us to go.

The night of the Invasion, we were woken up by the fire alarms. I staggered out of my room and found Mara as we were being herded down the stairs. Most of the kids were in their pyjamas. I thought it was a drill, but when we got out into the car park, there was a bus waiting. Everyone was loaded onto it and told that something bad had happened and we were being taken somewhere safe. Most of the kids started crying. So did some of the staff. I huddled next to Mara, wondering what was going on.

We got caught in traffic as everyone tried to leave the city, and on the outskirts of Glasgow the bus was surrounded by men and women with guns and silver eyes. They boarded, and shot the driver. Mara and I managed to escape through an emergency exit window at the back. After a few days holed up in an abandoned office block, we were found by Ben, a student who’d been doing veterinary medicine at Glasgow University. He took us under his wing, and with a small group of other survivors that included Gina and Cy, we fled to England. For almost a year, Ben and the other adults fought the Fearless, but one night, the warehouse we were living in was ambushed. There were so many Fearless that we were overwhelmed, and everyone who didn’t die or manage to escape was taken to Sheffield, to the Torturehouse.

That’s when my memories get weird and broken. I remember Ben being at the Torturehouse with us, but not how he got us out of the cages. I remember him carrying me through the station, but not the journey to Staffordshire. The first thing I recall clearly is waking up at the bunker, weeks after we were rescued. After that, I had to come to terms with what had happened – that I was half-Fearless, and my sister was full Fearless, and that she’d be like that for ever, even if we did manage to keep her off the serum. I was terrified that Ben would throw her out, but he agreed to let her stay.

A sound jerks me back to reality. Engines. I lean forward, my elbows on the window-sill as I scan the horizon, trying to work out where it’s coming from. Between us and the Torturehouse there’s a road bridge littered with old cars and the burned-out shell of a helicopter, the word POLICE still visible along the tail.

‘What’s wrong?’ Gina says behind me.

Then I see them: two black specks – no, three – no,
seven
– coming over the bridge.

Jeeps, and a covered lorry.

‘Magpies!’ I say.

‘What?’ Gina says, and comes over to look. ‘Are you sure?’ Then she sees them. ‘Oh,
shit
.’

I glance at Ben. He’s looking at me through narrowed eyes. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he says.

‘Screw you.’ I walk over to the corner where the guns are leaning against the wall.

‘I mean it, Myo.’ Ben sits up and swings his legs round off the bed.

‘So do I.’ Picking up a rifle, I grab a box of ammo and tip the contents into my pocket.

Ben tries to stand up and gives a hiss of pain. ‘Gina, stop him!’ he cries. Gina makes a grab for me, but I’m too quick. I flee through the apartment. Ten flights of stairs later I burst out onto the street, and with the gun strapped across my chest and the shells clinking against my leg, I sprint up the road towards the bridge.

With no other way of knowing how long I’ve been here, I measure time in injections of the Fearless serum. It takes two more for me to dig the cage floor out all the way around the edge.

Cy and the woman with the drooping face have been taken away. Jori’s still hanging in there, but he seems weak and dispirited. I don’t feel so good either. My head aches permanently, and I’m shaky and irritable. I tell myself it’s from the stress and bad food and lack of sleep, but deep down, I know it’s because my body’s starting to need – to crave – the serum, and because the serum is starting to sink its claws into my brain.

I make the last cut through the wood not long after coming round from the third injection. Glancing around to check for Fearless, I take a few deep breaths, and put my palms flat against the top of the cage and push upwards, straining against the weight of the metal. The bars lift neatly away from the floor.
Done it
. I feel an instant of dizzying elation, then a wave of fear.