Impersonator (Forager Impersonator - A Post Apocalyptic Trilogy Book 1) (23 page)

I was still awake in the early hours of the morning, alternating between heartache because I’d never see Ryan again, and disappointment because he let me down so badly. I kept going over our parting conversations, wondering how differently things could have turned out if I hadn’t told him I was a mutant. His reaction hurt me more than I cared to admit, and caused me to doubt my conviction that he was a man of honour and integrity.

I also wrestled with the things Sofia (and Ryan) told me about doing the right thing where Dan Smith was concerned. I debated with the topic from every possible angle, trying to justify doing nothing about it so the escape attempt could go ahead.

It was after three in the morning when I heard a voice whisper my name outside in the hallway, causing me to jolt in alarm. I relaxed when I realised it was Brandon.

I grabbed a coat off the back of the chair closest to my mattress and pulled it over my shoulders with great difficulty. That done, I popped the door open and stole silently into the hallway.

My brother was standing there, unshaven, eyes bloodshot, and wearing filthy clothes. He stank too. He had put on weight, though, so he must have been eating.

He noticed how I cradled my left arm. “Those guys hurt you again?”

I nodded and filled him in on what happened.

“Right, that’s it. I’m taking care of them. No one hurts my sister,” he snarled.

“No!” I squeaked. “Don’t aggravate the matter any further. The escape is this Wednesday. Once we’ve left town, who’s going to care? We’ll be free of them.”

“Wednesday – I thought it was Friday?”

“Change of plans.”

“Right.”

There was a pregnant pause, in which my anger got the better of me. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth the other day?”

“About what?”

“That you helped the others kill Dan!” I whispered.

He looked at his feet, and shuffled about nervously, but didn’t speak.

“I don’t know you anymore, Brandy. You’re a smuggler, into drugs and porn, and a murderer. What on earth happened to you?”

“How else could I have turned out? Living in a place like this saps the life out of you!”

“Oh come on, adversity doesn’t make someone turn out like that. You’ve got only yourself to blame for the choices you’ve made.”

“Really? I was like you before I started foraging, idealistic and with a head full of good intentions, but Con and the others corrupted me in no time flat. They introduced me to the thrill of smuggling stuff and getting loaded, getting high, and, ah, um, other stuff.” He spoke angrily, as though he was the victim.

“Ever heard of the word ‘no?’” I said. “Even better, did it occur to you to report them to the Custodians? I never figured you’d be so spineless!”

“If I reported them I would have ended up like Dan!” He glared at me, brows furrowed.

“The Dan you helped kill?”

That comment knocked the fight out of him.

“Why are you here tonight, anyway?” I asked.

“Because I don’t know what to do, Chelz. Ever since that day, I can’t get the image of Dan out of my mind. His trusting face as I manoeuvred him beneath the wall. He just stood there, smiling at me, trusting me, while I pretended to take a photo of him. Then the others pushed the wall over, and as it fell on top of him, he managed to meet my eyes one last time. His expression was one of stunned disbelief – he couldn’t accept I could have done such a thing to him.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks now. “Every time I close my eyes, that’s all I see.”

“So what do you think you should do now?” I asked, mindful of my friends’ advice.

“I know what I should do. I should hand myself into the Custodians and tell them what happened. And do it before Wednesday so the Custodians can arrest the other three goons before they escape.”

“But Brandy, if you do that...”

“You think I don’t know that? It’s the death penalty for murder and drug dealing.” He looked up now, eyes wide. “I don’t want to die, Chelz.”

My heart shattered. “I don’t want you to either, but...” My voice trailed off.

“Just say it.”

“But you had a hand in Dan’s murder, and as much as I hate myself for saying this, you have to face up to the consequences of your actions. And like you, I don’t want Con, Matt and Jack to waltz out those gates on Wednesday night and get away with blue murder.”

Brandon nodded, shoulders slumped as though carrying the weight of the world. “Just give me a bit longer to think it through, okay?”

I nodded, a tear slipping down my cheek as I contemplated the horror and loneliness of life without him.

He wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, and with a forlorn smile, made his exit.

* * *

Knowing the breakout was set for Wednesday instead of Friday sent me into a fluster. There was one thing I had been planning to do, but kept putting it off, leaving it until the last minute. Now suddenly, that last minute was here.

I wanted to visit my father before I left. I knew this would probably be the last time I saw him. On one hand, I didn’t want to see him because I was still mad at him, but on the other, I knew I’d regret it forever if I didn’t.

I decided to visit him on Tuesday afternoon and get it over and done with. I asked mother and sister to come, but they refused, as expected. That was annoying because it meant I had to visit him masquerading as Brandon, rather than be myself. The requirement for a chaperone was so infuriating!

I arrived at the prison-factory half an hour later. The factory was as bleak and depressing as I imagined, with pre-fab grey concrete walls and a corrugated tin roof. It was big too, with a barbed wire topped cyclone wire fence surrounding the property. The Custodians at the gate glanced at Brandon’s ID card and let me through.

I had to wait an hour in the foyer in an uncomfortable plastic bucket seat until they called my name. A Custodian took me to the prison visiting room, a large room with worn blue carpet, low ceiling, and clusters of bucket seats.

Several prisoners were present – all men of course – since this was a male only prison-factory. Parents, wives, and children were visiting all of the prisoners in the room. All except for one man, who sat alone with his head bowed, hands clasped tightly, and knees bouncing up and down.

I sat in the bucket seat across from him, but couldn’t find my voice. This man was my hero when I was a child, but also the one responsible for all the disasters that had overtaken our family recently.

It soon became apparent he wouldn’t raise his head or look at me.

“Hello, Father.” I spoke with my brother’s voice.

“Brandon?” He didn’t raise his eyes.

“Chelsea,” I whispered.

He looked up at that, clearly astonished. I felt a pull at my heartstrings. He had lost weight, and what little light had been in his eyes previously was gone.

“You came alone?” He seemed to collapse into himself, like a folding deck chair closing.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

It was a couple of minutes before he was able to look at me again. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Because I wanted to see you and this was the only way.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered.”

Whatever compassion I felt for him suddenly evaporated under an unexpected surge of anger. “Shouldn’t have...do you have any idea of what you have put us through?”

“Put you through?” A spark of confusion flashed across his face.

“We lost the apartment, furniture, clothes, the works, because you didn’t pay the rent!”

“What? But – why didn’t Brandon pitch in and pay it?”

“He still hasn’t come home. And you stole all his money anyway, remember?” I spoke too loudly and one of the Custodians on duty looked over in our direction. I made a mental note to keep it down.

“Not all of it. And I was going to pay back what I took.”

“When? After you paid off the thirty-thousand gambling debt?”

He looked up, eyes wide with panic.

“Yeah – we know all about that.”

“How?”

“What do you think Deacon and Wells did after the magistrate threw you in here?”

“They shouldn’t have done anything. It’s my gambling debt; it’s got nothing to do with the rest of you.” He stumbled over his words as he spoke.

“They beat you up, didn’t they, Father? The day the Custodians arrested you,” I said.

He just looked at me.

“They threatened you the day before, and when you didn’t come through with more money, they beat the daylights out of you.”

He shifted uncomfortably on his chair, but still wouldn’t speak.

“So you rang the Custodians. You’re the one who gave them the ‘anonymous’ tip off, and then hid Brandon’s drugs under your bed to implicate yourself. You put yourself in prison.”

“I had to...I didn’t have any choice.”

“What are you talking about? We always have choices.”

He didn’t speak, just stared forlornly at the floor.

“I wish you’d let us know what was going on so we could have worked something out together. I wish you’d thought things through instead of leaving us – leaving me – at the mercy of Deacon and his stupid sidekick.” I pointed to my chest and the sling.

My father’s face paled. “They did that?”

“And more.”

“Daughter, I...I don’t know what to say. I had no idea they’d go after you if I was locked away. I thought it would put an end to their schemes if I was beyond their reach.”

“Well, you thought wrong, didn’t you?”

“They’re just chasing you for money, right?” he asked, even more alarmed.

“Yeah, ‘just’ thirty-thousand dollars.”

For a moment, he looked mightily relieved, but then his eyes alighted upon my sling, and his expression fell. “I’m so sorry, Daughter, I really am.”

“Really? Then prove it. Tell the Custodians you set yourself up and demand they release you from prison.” A thought suddenly occurred to me. If he was released from prison before tomorrow night, our whole family could quit the town. We’d be free of the debt collectors and could rebuild our family when we got to Ballarat.

“All the Custodians care about is results, and they’ve got one.”

“I can’t accept that, Father. And from your past experience with them, you know that some stand up for the truth,” I said.

“There’s still the matter of the drugs, Chelsea. If I do as you suggest, they’ll arrest Brandon for possession. I won’t do that to him.”

He was just making excuses, and I knew it. “You’re afraid of seeing Deacon and Wells again, I get it. What if I told you they won’t be a factor for much longer. Would you do as I suggest then?”

“How is that possible?”

“I can’t tell you. You just have to trust me.”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t.”

“What about when you’ve served your time?” I snapped.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind. “I’ll probably fix it so I stay in here.”

My mouth dropped open. “You’re never going to get out? What about Mother?”

“What about her? Hasn’t even bothered to visit me.”

“She’s waiting for you to get out!”

He snorted.

“Fine! Hide under a rock for the rest of your life! Goodbye!” I stood angrily to my feet, knocking my seat back, and stormed from the room. His refusal to cooperate or make even the slightest effort to be there for us made me so mad!

I signed out of prison and headed home, muttering under my breath. Yet as I walked, my rage began to fade when I realised how big a mess I made of the visit. Instead of a touching farewell, or even convincing him to try to get out of prison so he could come with us, I lost my temper and blamed him for everything. Now I would have to carry this as the last memory of my father for the rest of my life.

After a night of tossing and turning, Wednesday arrived at last. I got out of bed at the crack of dawn, excitement coursing through me in anticipation of escaping tonight. I could scarcely believe that after all these years, today was the day.

Filling my pockets with money from Brandon’s secret stash, I popped out to the market and bought as much dried fruit and unleavened bread as I reckoned we could carry. I also bought two backpacks for Karen and Sofia. Back at the apartment, Karen, Sofia and I packed the bags, filling them with water bottles, the fruit and bread, and other necessities including sanitary pads and rolls of toilet paper.

* * *

My mother, sister, Sofia, and I stepped outside the first floor cafeteria after a nourishing dinner of stale bread, overripe fruit and past their sell-by date doughnuts when we bumped into the last person I wanted to see.

Ryan stood outside the door, still in his work clothes.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“I need to talk to you,” Ryan said, searching my eyes.

“We have nothing to talk about.” I pushed my way past him.

He grabbed my right elbow. “Please.”

I looked to my mother. I knew she still wasn’t happy I’d spent three nights at his home, even though she now grudgingly accepted it had been necessary. “Mother?”

“It is unbecoming for you to talk to him,” she said.

“I work with him every day during the week, remember?” I whispered.

Mother frowned. “Well, you’re not talking to him without a chaperone, and you can count me out.”

“I know I’m not old enough to be a chaperone, but I can go with them, if that’s okay with you, Mrs. Thomas? We are inside the shelter, our collective home, after all. It’s not like we’re in public,” Sofia suggested.

“This is very important, Mrs. Thomas,” Ryan said.

“Oh, very well,” Mother replied. She turned to my sister. “Come, Youngest Daughter.”

Karen followed my mother down the corridor, glancing back wistfully, no doubt wishing she could have played the part of chaperone rather than Sofia.

I looked up at Ryan. “Well?”

He glanced at Sofia and then me.

“Why don’t we go up to the roof, and then I’ll leave you two to talk in private,” Sofia suggested. Didn’t miss much, that girl.

Several minutes later, Ryan and I stood alone on the roof. Sofia had escorted us to the fifth floor, but came no further. I barely noticed the view today, though. I couldn’t stop wondering what he wanted to say.

A brisk, cold wind blew loose strands of hair across my face. I tried to pull my shawl closer about my shoulders, but with one arm in a sling, it wasn’t easy. Noticing my predicament, Ryan helped pull it into place. He stood so close I could smell him, a subtle mix of sweat and cologne.

“Is there a reason you’ve dragged me up here or are you going to just stand there staring at me?”  I asked.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Chelsea.”

“Seriously? That’s what you wanted to say?”

“And I want to apologise for freaking out when you told me about your...abilities. It just took me by surprise. But you know what? It didn’t take me long to realise you were wrong. I do know you. Your secret changes nothing. You’re still the most amazing person I know. And I still can’t bear the thought of not having you in my life.” He spoke with such passion that his words stirred my soul, reaching through the barriers I had erected around my heart.

“Ryan–” I began.

“I spoke to my father–”

“I already told you there can be no future between us!”

“And I told you we can work through every obstacle we encounter together.” He reached out to take my hand in his. “My father is not opposed to our union. He is willing to talk to your father.”

“He’s in prison.”

“He can have visitors, can’t he?”

The touch of his fingers on mine sent tingles up my arm, and for the barest fraction of a moment I considered accepting his suggestion and staying here with him, but the terrifying image of Wells shooting the spring-loaded gun at Ryan shattered the vision immediately. Then a new thought came unbidden to my mind. There was another option. One that would work for me, and for him too, I believed.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What if I told you there was another option. Another way we could be together.”

“I don’t follow.”

I knew Con told me not to tell him, but Con was a slimy, insidious, paranoid criminal of the nth degree. And he could nick off!

“What if I told you a group of us are going to break out of Newhome and go to Ballarat?”

“You serious?” The incredulous look on his face was worth framing.

“Yes.”

“And just how do you plan on getting out?”

“Through the town gates, of course.”

“The gates are guarded by two squads of Custodians!”

“We’ve worked out a way to get past them.”

“You’re going to kill them?” he asked, alarmed.

“Of course not – that would be murder! It will be by trickery, not violence,” I assured him.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say.” He ran his hand through his hair.

“Why don’t you come with me?” I spoke carefully, my voiced filled with hope. “It would be a brand new beginning. No debt collectors beating me up or trying to kill you, no stigma over our heads because I have a criminal for a father.”

“When is this breakout?”

“Tonight.”

He shook his head slowly. “Chelsea, this is not the solution. You can’t spend your life running away from your troubles. You have to face them and overcome them.”

“To be honest, Ryan, I have been planning to escape the town ever since I was five,” I said.

“What – why?”

“I live every day here in fear of my life. I have such an awesome ability, but if I use it, I’ll be executed simply to keep the human race ‘pure’ – whatever that means. Hasn’t it occurred to them that I may be the next stage of human evolution rather than mutated by nuclear radiation? Who ever heard of radiation causing mutations like this? Extra toes and fingers, cleft palates, and cancers, but not this.”

“Is that where you think your ability comes from?” he asked.

“It’s a better explanation than radiation,” I said.

He nodded. “I guess it is. Not something I’ve ever thought about, to be honest. But what if you’re wrong? What if they don’t kill mutants like you?”

“Just lock me up and study me like a lab rat instead? Sorry, not willing to risk ending up like that. Besides, that’s not the only reason I want to leave. I can’t stand living in an oppressive society like this. I want to be free to go where I want, do what I want, to take hold of my own life,” I said.

“If you feel so strongly about these issues, why don’t you try to do something about them?” He looked at me intently.

“And get thrown in prison like those guys who did the stop-work protest?”

“They went about it the wrong way. They used blackmail instead of dialogue. Instead of working from behind the scenes.”

“Man, you sure live in a fantasy world, Ryan. This town is a police state, can’t you see that?”

“I’ll admit it’s not perfect, but consider this. The Founders, and the Chancellor and councillors since them, have outlawed multiculturalism in their attempt to create a society without division. They even encouraged the different nationalities here to intermarry so we would become one people. Yet for the past century, the people resisted this attempt to rob them of their unique national characteristics by refusing to let their children marry outside their own race. So in spite of the Founders and Chancellor’s efforts, we still have Anglo-Saxon Aussies, Yugoslavians, Chinese, Malaysians, Vietnamese, Koreans, Sudanese, Greeks, Italians, Indians, Turkish – need I go on? Melbourne’s pre-Apocalypse multinational identity has been preserved.”

“What’s your point?” I asked.

“If the people can resist the Chancellor’s efforts in this area, they can beat him in other areas too. They just need to find the right strategies and get the right people behind them.”

“I still don’t see what that’s got to with me. Or you, for that matter.”

“This town has so much potential, Chelsea, can’t you see that? Instead of running away, why don’t you become a visionary committed to changing the town into the sort of place you would like to raise your children in.”

“Sorry, Ryan. I’ve had enough of this place.”

“Chelsea, I don’t know who’s behind this escape attempt, but it’s fraught with danger. Firstly, the Custodians at the gate won’t be the pushovers you think they are. Secondly, even if you do get past them, the ruins are infested with Skel and Ballarat is too far away. In ideal conditions, it would probably take a couple of days to get there, but if anyone gets sick, injured, or their shoes fall apart, it’s going to take a lot longer. Many of you won’t make it at all. You’ve got to see this is just wishful thinking! Please don’t go!”

“Honestly, Ryan, I’m surprised at you. Considering I’m your only friend, and how you feel about me, I figured you would have jumped at the chance to come with me. You’d be a real asset on the journey too,” I paused and looked directly into his eyes. “Besides, I want you to come.”

He dropped my hand and stepped back. “Sorry, Chelsea, I care for you, I really do. But my family is here, and I care about this town and its people. Please stay here. Please stay with me.”

Disappointed by his refusal to come, I felt a deep sorrow weigh heavily on my heart. Still, I tried to be understanding. His family meant a great deal to him and I was asking him to abandon them on a moment’s notice. And he wasn’t rejecting me, for he was asking me to stay here with him.

“Who is in charge of this breakout? Is it Con?” he asked.

“I don’t want to say.”

“Fair enough, but if he is the leader, I want you to consider this. If Con, Matt and Jack are responsible for Dan Smith’s death, they need to be brought to justice. They mustn’t be allowed to leave tonight and get away scot-free.”

“You think I don’t know that?” His words weighed heavily on my conscience.

“The clock’s ticking.”

With an angry flick of my head because he was right and I knew it, I rushed down the stairs. Just like the last time, he did not come after me. I guessed this was truly the last time I would see him.

Sofia was waiting for me. She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Things didn’t go well?”

“Don’t ask.” I grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go back to your place. He won’t think to look for me there.”

We popped down to Sofia’s room. Now that I knew her mother had passed away, she no longer kept me out. The room was Spartan but she had laid out her few items of furniture in a way that gave the room a homely atmosphere.

I helped her prepare for the breakout, mending some of the clothes she was going to bring. Because of her burns, she was not good with sewing needles and thread.

Finally, sometime after midnight, we hurried upstairs to my apartment.

However, as soon as we reached my room, I knew something was wrong – the door was hanging wide open. Fearing the worst, I rushed inside, and was shocked to find the room empty. There was no sign of my mother or sister.

Panicking, I bolted out of the room with Sofia in tow, going as fast as my dress would allow, pausing only when the elevator pinged and the doors ground open.

I found myself face to face with my mother, who was red faced and flustered. “Where have you been, Daughter! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“With Sofia, why – what’s wrong? Where’s Karen?”

“They took her!” she shouted in my face.

“They?”

“Those horrible men, the debt collectors!”