The Fandom(93)

I see my opportunity. My muscles swell with rage, tight and curled and ready to explode. I leap towards Howard Stoneback, barrelling into his shoulder and catching him off guard. He falls to the ground, firing several futile shots into the sky. I hurl my fists at his chest, his face, anywhere I can reach, the rage pulsing through me, pushing out screams and sobs. But Gems are strong, and Howard quickly flips me away. I skid across the pavement, my fists still whirring before me like they don’t know how to stop.

I can still hear Ash’s voice, gurgling and weak. ‘Violet, no.’

Howard points his gun at me, disbelief unsettling his faultless brow. I know I will die now. My eyes flicker shut, and I wait for the bullets to pierce my belly, arms, neck.

Four shots in quick succession. Four thuds.

I open my eyes to see Howard and the squaddies littering the ground like scraps of paper. Those blond corkscrews dipped in red, and that perverse leer finally gone. Strong hands grasp my arms, hauling me to my feet and clutching me to a muscular chest. Matthew.

‘Are you injured?’ he asks.

I don’t reply. I can barely breathe, let alone speak.

Matthew hoists Nate over one shoulder and carries him to the Humvee.

Saskia dashes over to me. ‘Violet, I’m so sorry, Nate got away from us back at the Meat House.’

Again, I don’t reply.

‘We need to get out of here.’ She helps Ash up. ‘We only came back for the Humvee seeing as the Gems trashed our rides. Lucky for you we did.’

Matthew lays Nate in my arms. The weight of his body wakes me from my stupor. I support his fair head in the nook of my elbow, cradling him as though he’s newly born, and climb into the back of the car. I notice the slight movement of his chest, the blood fizzing from the corner of his lips as he tries to breathe.

Saskia and Matthew climb in the front of the Humvee.

Saskia turns to Matthew. ‘There’s obviously a mole in our midst. We torch the church before the Gems find it.’ She pops her face around the back of the headrest. For a second, I think a splash of Nate’s blood has reached her forehead, then I remember it’s just her birthmark. ‘Thorn’s gone. Dead or captured, so it’s up to us now,’ she says.

The thought that this news would sadden Nate crosses my mind, but I feel very little when I think of Thorn being dead. At least he can’t harm Katie now. I feel the movement of the Humvee as Ash manages to hoist his body beside mine. He helps me apply pressure to Nate’s side. The blood feels warm, oozing between my fingers.

‘I need something to stem the flow.’ My voice comes out a string of breathy words.

‘It’s a stomach wound,’ Saskia says. She doesn’t tell me Nate is dying, but I hear it, heavy in every word.

I look into Nate’s face, so pale it almost disappears beneath the starlight. His golden eyelashes quiver, his breath catches in his throat. And that’s when I first notice them, faint and distant, the rhythmic pips from my dream.

We burst from the garage, tyres screeching. Matthew cuts the lights, so I’m not sure how he can tell which way to drive, but he powers down the alley regardless. Pip . . . pip . . . pip. I trace Nate’s features with a finger. The pain ages him by at least twenty years, carving great trenches into his skin. I wonder if his face offers a porthole into the future he will never have. Nate as a man – perhaps with children of his own, my nieces and nephews. Tears fall down my cheeks and splash against his forehead.

This is all my fault. Alice must have told the Gems about the bolthole. How could I have been so stupid? My inability to doubt her led the soldiers straight to us – straight to my little brother. The guilt feels like a black hole, sucking everything from me. Hope, joy, love; dragged into a pit of nothingness.

Pip . . . pip . . . pip.

‘Violet,’ Nate whispers. Blood dribbles from the corner of his mouth, scarlet against the white of his cheek. ‘Tell Mum and Dad I love them.’

‘Tell them yourself.’

His eyelids flicker as he loses focus, and I notice the pips begin to slow, like a clock losing time.

‘Are you afraid?’ he asks.

‘Of what?’

‘Of hanging.’

I let out a loud sob, tears pouring into his face. ‘No,’ I lie. ‘Of course not. It’s just a story. We can’t really die in a story – Baba told me. When you wake up, you’ll be home with Mum and Dad.’

‘And real food, and football, and a nice soft pillow.’

‘Yeah.’ A moan grows in my stomach, threatening to rip me apart.

Pip . . . . . . pip . . . . . . pip.

I begin to feel strangely removed. I step outside my body and watch his features slowly settle. I grow increasingly aware of the space above me. An infinite sky – black and heavy and loaded with stars. And below, I see myself. Face warped, back curved, fingers plaited through strands of golden hair. I can almost see my love, a shimmering force field encircling our bodies, binding us together in a giant bubble. I could reach out and touch it if I wanted, but I’m afraid it may disappear.

Pip . . . . . . pip . . . . . . I wait for the final pip. I know what they are, what they mean, of course I do. Tinny and hollow and terrifying – echoing around a hospital room. I wipe my eyes and watch as our bodies move as one, swaying as the Humvee corners the endless side streets. Nate’s face now looks completely relaxed . . . . . . pip . . . . . . And finally, his chest is still.