Deadlands (26 page)

‘Hold it!’ a voice said from behind us.

Three robed Resurrectionists were blocking one end of the alleyway.

‘Come on!’ Thabo said to me, eyes wide. We darted towards the other end, but as we did so a couple of shadowy figures moved to block that exit as well. All five would be on us in seconds.

‘We’re going to have to fight our way through them,’ Thabo said. ‘Stand back and get behind me.’

‘Thabo,’ I said, forgetting my exhaustion as I was hit with another blast of adrenalin. ‘You might actually want to get behind
me
.’

‘But –’

The three Resurrectionists at the other end were approaching fast. ‘See if you can stop the other two,’ I said, and he nodded.

The three came at once, holding wooden clubs aloft as they ran towards me.

I floored the first with an uppercut from my elbow, finished him off with a kick to his stomach and ducked as the second swiped with his club. I let it slam into my back, trying to absorb the pain, and then hooked my leg under his and tripped him onto his back. I slammed my foot into his crotch and he let out a hiss of agony.

Behind me, Thabo was tussling with the two guards, but apart from the third Resurrectionist facing me – a ginormous blonde woman with icy eyes – the way ahead was clear.

‘Hang on, Thabo!’ I said, lashing out with my right leg.

‘Nice try, girly,’ the woman said, jumping back with way more agility than I was expecting. ‘But that won’t work with me.’

‘Oh, really?’ I said.

She leapt towards me, club held aloft, but at the last second I dropped to my hands and knees and rolled my body into hers, sending her flying. Then, kicking the club out of her reach, I slammed my foot down on her hand. She screamed in rage, swung around and lashed out with her leg. The woman was fast and it was all I could do to jump out of the way. Stumbling over the guy I’d knocked out, I almost lost my balance, and by the time I recovered she was on me. I let her punch me in the face. I’d been punched by Saint before, and it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Letting my body go limp – feigning concussion – I dropped to a crouch and swept my leg out, hooking the back of her knee. This time she fell backwards, jarred her head on the ground, and was still.

‘Lele! Run!’

‘Thabo!’

He was being dragged away down the alley, and behind him I could make out the shadowy shapes of yet more Resurrectionists. More than I’d ever be able to defeat. I could still escape at the other end – that way was clear – and I had a split-second decision to make. Fight on for Thabo, or get the hell out of there before both exits were blocked.

I could hear the sound of more running feet, and the shrill shriek of whistles being blown.

There was no way I could fight them all off.

I had to run. I had no choice.

But I swore that I would help him another way.

I needed to come up with a plan.

And I had to hurry.

‘Leletia!’

The Mantis’s tea cup slipped from her grasp and splintered on the floor.

Dad came thudding through from his study. ‘Cleo, are you okay?’

He caught sight of me and a mixture of emotions flashed across his face – shock, relief and worry.

I pulled the curtains across the kitchen window.

‘Lele!’ Dad said. ‘You can’t be here! It’s too dangerous.’

‘I need your help, Dad. A friend of mine – he’s been taken by the Resurrectionists. I need to know where they’ve taken him.’

Dad and the Mantis glanced at each other.

‘Who is this friend?’ the Mantis asked.

‘He’s . . . Look, you don’t need to know that.’

‘Why was he detained?’

‘It doesn’t matter – what will they do to him?’ ‘It does matter,’ the Mantis said. ‘The punishment fits the crime.’

‘Look, he’s a member of the ANZ, okay?’

‘Leletia, you shouldn’t be involved in this,’ the Mantis said.

‘I am involved!’ I said, swallowing hard to stop the tears. ‘I have to help him. Please! Will they take him to the embassy first?’

‘Lele, you must break ties with this traitor.’

‘What? He’s not a traitor! A traitor to whom? A traitor to what? To the Resurrectionists? Come on, Cleo, I know you don’t believe in all that crap.’

She sighed. ‘Look, Lele, even if I wanted to help you, I can’t. I don’t have access to that sort of information.’

‘What happens to them, the people who are arrested?’

‘Well, usually they are taken to the embassy and questioned. But you will never get in there. Not even with an army.’

‘When is the next relocation scheduled?’

‘I do not know.’

‘Cut the crap, Cleo!’

‘The only person who would have information like that is Comrade Nkosi. He makes those decisions.’

‘I need to speak to him. Just tell me where he lives, Cleo,’ I said.

‘You can’t go to see him . . . You don’t understand. He’s . . .’

‘I know. He’s a bastard.’

‘Lele!’ Dad said. ‘Language!’

The Mantis and I shared a look that basically said ‘as if we need to worry about swearing right now’.

‘But I think you should know, Lele,’ the Mantis said, ‘if this friend is part of the ANZ, it is possible that he might be relocated immediately.’

‘What? No!’

‘There’s been a clampdown, Lele. The embassy has been forced to take a hard line against these dissidents.’

My hands had started shaking violently. Dad poured me a glass of water and handed it to me. I swallowed it down in one go.

‘Lele,’ Dad said. ‘You must let this go. It is all for the greater good, you will see.’

‘How can you say that, Dad! How can you support these people? Look what they’re doing to the city! To the kids with the Lottery. Dad, how can you be on the Guardians’ side after what they did to Jobe?’

‘That was years ago, Lele. And there’s no proof that the Guardians did anything to him –’

Now I didn’t bother trying to stop the tears. ‘No proof! But he changed, Dad.’

‘Yes, Lele. But you didn’t.’

‘What do you mean?’

He paused and ran his hands over his face. ‘They took you, too. And you didn’t change.’

‘No they didn’t,’ I said, my voice sounding hollow.

‘They did, Lele,’ he said. ‘The memory is trapped in there somewhere.’

I sat down on the chair behind me so hard that my jaw clicked. I wasn’t sure if I could handle another shock that evening without my skull splitting open. My mind was reeling. I had no early memories of the Guardians except for the few times I’d seen them at the edge of the Agriculturals, collecting the vegetables and livestock. I had a vague recollection of being in the soccer stadium, but that was it. Like I said, my memories of the War and its immediate aftermath were seriously sketchy.

‘You never told me this,’ the Mantis said to Dad.

‘And Gran never said anything about it either!’ I added.

He sighed. ‘She didn’t want to worry you.’

‘So, what are you saying?’ I asked. ‘That just because they didn’t do anything to me they didn’t screw up Jobe’s brain?’ I couldn’t think about the other implications of what he’d said right then. It was just too much.

The Mantis was watching me carefully. She stood up, opened one of the kitchen drawers and took out a piece of paper and a pen. ‘Lele, please,’ she said as she scrawled something on it and handed it to me. ‘I’m begging you not to do this. He’s a very dangerous man.’

‘I don’t have a choice. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you out of it.’

She nodded. ‘I cannot do more,’ she said. ‘It’s not just me and your father I have to consider now.’

‘What do you mean? Jobe’s in Mandela House.’

Dad and the Mantis shared another glance. ‘Lele, I’m pregnant,’ she said.

The Mantis’s directions were clear, and it wasn’t hard to find Comrade Nkosi’s home. It was two streets down from the embassy, a couple of blocks from Malema High. It was way smaller and scruffier than I was expecting – a two-storey house not much larger than Dad and the Mantis’s place. Comrade Nkosi clearly wasn’t stupid. He didn’t want to be accused of using his power for his own personal gain. At least one politician had learned from history.

I knew I was taking a hell of a chance, but what choice did I have?

As I stared up at the darkened windows I caught sight of the silhouette of a feathered dream catcher. Picking up a pebble from the road, I took aim, and lobbed it towards the window. It thunked against it, sounding far louder than I’d been expecting. I looked nervously up and down the street, but it didn’t appear to have disturbed anyone. I was about to try again, when the window cranked open and someone leaned out of it. A thick curtain of black hair was hanging over the figure’s face, but I was almost positive it had to be Zyed.

‘Zyed!’ I hissed.

He jerked his head up. ‘Who is that?’ he called.

‘Shhhh! Keep your voice down. It’s me! Lele!’

There was a pause while he took this in. ‘You’re supposed to be a Rotter by now,’ he said. I could see he hadn’t changed his attitude while I’d been away.

‘Yeah, well, I’m not.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I need your help.’

‘What?’

‘Come on, Zyed. Please! It’s a matter of life or death.’

Without responding he slipped back inside his room, shutting the window behind him.

‘Crap!’ I kicked the gate in frustration and was about to turn away when I heard the front door opening. Zyed approached me. He was wearing a simple grey tracksuit, his hair and clothes for once free of the feathers.

‘Did you tell your father I’m here?’ I asked.

‘No. He’s at the embassy. Working late as usual.’ He sounded bitter. ‘So, are you a believer all of a sudden?’ he asked, looking me up and down, taking in the robe.

I snorted. ‘What do you think?’

‘How did you get back into the enclave?’

‘That’s not important, Zyed. Look, I need your help.’

‘Why should I help you?’

‘Because it’s not actually
me
who’s in trouble. It’s Thabo.’

‘What about him?’

‘He’s being relocated.’

Zyed’s face slackened in shock. ‘Oh, no! Why?’

‘That doesn’t matter. I’m going to try to save him, but I need to know where they’re going to take him and when. Can you help me with that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Your dad would know, though, right?’

‘Sure. But he’s at the embassy.’

‘Could you get to him? Think of an excuse?’

‘I never visit him at work. That would make him instantly suspicious.’

‘Crap.’

‘But I could sneak into his office when he gets back, I guess. He always brings paperwork home. But he might be a while. Apparently there’s been some trouble in the poorer sectors.’

‘Tell me about it,’ I said. ‘If you could do that, I can wait.’ What choice did I have?

‘Where will I find you?’

I told him and then, rummaging under the robe, I pulled off the tie I was still using as a makeshift belt. My jeans slipped to my hips, but thankfully didn’t fall down. I passed it to him. ‘Here. It’s yours.’

‘What’s this?’

‘Let’s just say, if you help me out, there’ll be way more stuff like this coming your way.’

He glanced at me. ‘Okay, Farm Girl. You’ve got yourself a deal.’

I hunkered down in the alleyway where Thabo and I had sprayed slogans across the dumpsters all those weeks before, not caring about the stench of garbage and rotten food. It had to be heading towards midnight, and in the quiet of the sleeping city the Rotters’ moans sounded louder than usual. I desperately hoped that Thabo hadn’t already been taken out into the Deadlands, or that if he had, he’d found a way to escape somehow. I knew he was a fighter, a survivor, but he’d be no match for a pack of Rotters, or even worse – Hatchlings.

I don’t know how long I waited there, but it had to be an hour at least. I had plenty to think about – too much to think about and digest, really – but I wasn’t ready to deal with it. I allowed myself to doze for a few minutes at a time; the only way I could stop myself going insane with worry about Thabo, obsessing over what Dad had said, fretting that Zyed would turn me in or thinking about the Mall Rats’ betrayal. At least my body wasn’t too sore after the run-in with the Resurrectionists. My face was no longer tender from where I’d been punched and even my back had stopped aching, although the guy hadn’t held back when he’d whacked me.

But I was wide awake when I saw a figure slip into the alleyway.

‘Psssh! Lele!’ Zyed called.

I pulled myself up, stretching my stiff muscles.

Even in the poor light I could tell that the news wasn’t good.

‘Well?’ I said.

‘You’re too late,’ he replied.

‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s already been processed.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘That they’re going to relocate him immediately. If they haven’t already done so.’

I fought to control a surge of nausea. ‘Do you know where?’

Zyed shrugged. ‘The east gate most likely. That’s where most of them leave from.’

That was miles away – where Gran’s funeral had taken place.

‘I have to go,’ I said.

‘But what can you do to help him? He’ll be with the Guardians now.’

‘You don’t need to know that, Zyed,’ I said. ‘Thanks for this.’

‘Good luck,’ he said. ‘And tell Thabo . . .’ his voice trailed away.

‘I will, Zyed,’ I said, already moving off into the night.

Whatever my next move was, I knew couldn’t do it alone.

‘Hello?’

With the generator off, the kitchen and lounge were deathly quiet and almost completely dark. A paraffin lamp flickered on the kitchen counter, and I lit a couple of candles to banish the worst of the gloom. I couldn’t remember ever seeing the place so deserted.

‘Anyone here?’ I said, trying again.

‘Over here, Lele,’ a voice croaked.

Hester was lying on the couch, her small shape covered with a blanket. Even though I had seen her merely hours before, it was clear that she’d deteriorated further. The scar tissue on her face stood out starkly against the papery skin that stretched over her cheekbones.