Renegade (22 page)

‘Samuel looks like he missed me,’ I say, nodding towards the other boy.

Imp rolls onto his front. ‘No way, he and our dad both said you were a traitor. I stole his shoes and hid them so he couldn’t go out.’

‘Did you give them back?’

A wicked grin. ‘Eventually.’

I haul myself into a sitting position and put an arm around Imp. He doesn’t even shake it off. ‘Can you do me a favour, mate?’

‘What?’

‘Can you go and play with Colt, Eli and Felix for a while? I need to talk to a few people.’

His face falls. ‘Talking’s boring.’

I pull him towards me and point towards our parents. ‘
You
know it’s boring –
I
know it’s boring – but look at all these boring people. Boring
people don’t know that talking is boring, that’s why they’re boring.’

I see his eyes rolling slightly, trying to work it out, before he smiles and nods. ‘So boring people are boring because they don’t realise that talking is boring?’

‘Right. And they talk a lot.’

He continues nodding slowly, as if I have explained the meaning of life to him. ‘So you have to go and be boring for a bit?’

‘Exactly.’

‘But you’ll come and play later?’

‘Obviously.’

‘And I’ll get my present?’

‘Of course. You’ll just have to keep it quiet from your brothers so they don’t get jealous.’

He nods, thinking it is a fair exchange, and then leaps to his feet. ‘Okay, see you later.’ In a blink, he is gone. His little legs whirl manically, seemingly unable to keep up with
the rest of his body as he charges off towards the far end of the clearing where the others are playing.

For a few seconds, I fall back onto the ground and close my eyes. It is as if everything has been worth it just for the few minutes I’ve been able to spend with Imp.

At the same time I have learned something worrying. At the very least, Opie’s father and one of his brothers don’t just think I’m a traitor, they’ve been saying it out
loud. Evan Cotton has always been a huge royalist and a massive supporter of the system we have. He lived through the civil war that brought the King to power and is certain this is a better way. I
have never been that close to Samuel. He is two years younger than Opie and even though we have never fallen out, we’ve never had much of a connection. Eli and Colt are both ten and have
grown up playing together, while Felix is a little older but still young enough to join in with their games. Opie, the eldest, and Imp, the youngest, have both been drawn to me – and that
leaves Samuel as the only one who has never been much of a part of our two interconnected families. I can only suppose he is following his father’s opinions.

I want to be able to rest here all day, listening to the sounds of the children running and playing – and perhaps even join in myself, jumping and climbing, fighting and arguing.

Then I remember why I am here. I haul myself to my feet and walk to where everyone else is congregating. As I get closer, I see there are two separate shelters. The first is the pyramid-shaped
pile of cars with a large gap underneath, but behind it two more cars are resting against the structure, creating a lean-to and another wide space for people to sleep under.

Around the rest of the area are many more broken vehicles that look as if they were dropped from high above one after the other. There is no order or structure, which is exactly why it works. As
I step across the ground, I see there are patches of green shoots in various spots. I cannot help but feel that, with so many places to rest and hide, we could make this a community of our own.

Mum is talking to Jela in front of the tepee but my eyes are drawn to the lean-to at the back. Opie is arguing with his father, their voices raised, although the breeze is sending their words in
the opposite direction. Evan jabs a finger into Opie’s chest which is slapped away angrily. Opie is a few inches taller than his father and, just for a second as his shoulders arch back, I
think he is going to hit him. Instead, another finger shoots out, which Opie grabs, before pushing his dad away and storming off through a gap in the cars.

I stride towards my mother, who now has Pietra’s attention, as well as Jela’s. She is showing them around the campsite, the three of them talking as if they are old friends. I hear
Jela say something about ‘where I come from’, before my mum tells her that it sounds very nice.

Realising it is awkward, I interrupt their conversation. ‘Is it just our family and Opie’s living here?’ I ask.

My mum seems a little put out by my manners, her eyebrows drawing downwards in disapproval. She answers anyway. ‘Yes.’

‘We all need a talk, just the adults, plus me and my friends. I need to go and find Opie.’

She nods as the other two girls look at me, confused. ‘Okay, I’ll make sure everyone is here before you get back.’

‘Thanks.’

I turn and head away from the shelter towards a spot where Imrin and Faith are standing and watching. ‘Can you do something for me?’ I ask the pair of them.

Both seem a little annoyed that I have ignored them until now, but neither refuses. I nod towards Opie’s father. ‘Imrin, I need you to go and talk to Evan and keep him occupied.
We’re having a meeting in a few minutes and I need him calm. Don’t talk about me and don’t talk about anything to do with our escape.’

‘What am I supposed to talk about?’

‘I don’t know – what do men usually chat about? Make something up but, whatever you do, keep him calm.’ I nod towards Opie’s mother, who is now talking to her
husband. ‘That’s his wife, Iris,’ I say to Faith. ‘Get her on her own and tell her everything you can think of about what we’ve been through.’ I peer closely at
the cut, which is almost healed on the side of Faith’s face. ‘Tell her about the Kingsman who did that – how much bigger than you he was and what bullies they are.’

Faith nods and doesn’t ask the obvious question, although Imrin can’t resist. ‘Why?’

‘I need you to trust me. I know these people.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I’ve got to go and find someone.’

Imrin’s pupils suddenly seem enormous, huge dark pools of endless black that let me see his innermost thoughts. From the moment Opie called my name, Imrin knew there was something there. I
can see him asking me exactly what is going on. Is Opie just an old friend, or is he something else?

Before he can ask anything out loud, I repeat myself – ‘I’ve got to go’ – and then turn like the coward I am, dashing past the shelters in the direction in which
Opie headed.

At first, the piles of metal are well-spaced, providing a maze easy enough to negotiate. I hurry along the pathways calling Opie’s name but the passages quickly narrow until I realise that
the labyrinth is so dense, he could have gone anywhere. I retrace my steps towards the centre when I spot Opie sitting in a corner between two washing machines, watching me with a hint of a smile
on his face.

As I approach, I slap the machine with my hand and sit between his legs. ‘My mum would love one of these,’ I say. ‘She was always going on about what it was like when she was a
kid and everyone had something easy to wash their clothes with.’

‘I saw you run past,’ Opie admits.

‘Why didn’t you call after me?’

A tingle zigzags down my spine as his fingers close around my hips in a way they haven’t done in ages. ‘It was nice watching you.’

‘We’ve got to go back so I can tell everyone why we’re here.’

‘Why
are
you here?’

‘A few reasons – I’ll tell everyone together.’

‘Not for me then?’

He sounds aggrieved and I know I have brought this on myself. ‘We’ll talk later, just not now.’

‘Who’s the other kid?’

I feel another tingle but for different reasons. ‘Who do you mean?’

‘The lad with the brown skin.’

‘His name is Imrin.’

‘Who’s he?’

I have rarely heard Opie’s voice like this. Usually, I lead our conversations and get to say what happens. Now it feels as if I am being interrogated.

‘He’s someone I escaped with. I’ll tell you about it if you come with me.’

I try to pull myself up but Opie grips my hips and pulls me towards him. In days gone by we would roll around and play-fight but I’m not strong enough any more. My arms feel like twigs to
his tree trunks.

‘Do you remember being kids?’ Opie says.

He has always been about the present and the future. I cannot ever remember him speaking about our pasts before.

‘What about it?’

‘Have I ever told you how much I hated you?’ He laughs gently but it is the first I know of it.

‘You hated me?’

‘You were always such a bully. When we were really young, we would do things together but then I became this big, lumbering kid and you did everything you could to make things worse.
You’d hide my things and call me names. I was miserable.’

Everything he says is true but I’ve never heard him speak like this. When we started hanging around as friends and doing everything together, it was as if everything before had never
happened. I remember it as jokes, he remembers me being mean.

‘I was just a kid,’ I say, not knowing how else to defend myself. Suddenly, it feels as if I am the big strong one and Opie has the spindly, tiny frame. I push myself onto his lap
and turn so I can cradle his head. ‘Why are you thinking about this now?’

He shakes his head. ‘When I said I knew I’d see you again, that wasn’t true. We both thought you’d be off doing something else after the Reckoning – but you were
always going to be somewhere nearby. And then, with you being chosen for the Offering, I didn’t know what to think. No one has ever come back. I thought you were gone. It took ages for it to
sink in. I’d go out to the woods and sit under our tree by myself.’

I gulp.
Don’t cry
.

‘I’d walk to the edge of the gully and look at all that junk, thinking about those times where you’d send me out there looking for little bits and pieces that you needed to
help mend some thing or another. This one time I was there on my own and it started to rain. Nothing serious, not like last night, just a little sprinkle. I thought of you and the way I’d
head for cover but you’d walk slowly with your arms out, enjoying every drop.’

His voice cracks and his fingers tense around me. I am blinking so quickly that I give up and close my eyes instead.
Not now
.

‘Just as I was coming to terms with it all, our screen switched on that night and it was you and something to do with the King. We couldn’t tell what was going on but you were at the
centre of it and it was so brilliant to see your face again. But your mum got that message telling her to get away. She came round with Colt but didn’t know if it was serious. I knew it would
be so we ran. They didn’t know where to go but I remembered the time we came here. I sent Imp off to tell the drunk guy in case you came back and we never stopped. We all got the alerts on
our thinkwatches saying you tried to kill the King and that we must hand ourselves in. My dad was ready to do it but we kept him here somehow. We don’t have a screen so no one knows
what’s going on. I guess I just thought that after seeing the message about the King, they would catch you and that would be that. I always hoped you’d come back.’

‘I’m here now.’ My voice doesn’t sound like my own. It is raw and croaky and my nose is blocked.

‘The reason I was thinking about when we were young was because I never got to tell you that, even with all you did to me, there was still that bit of me deep down that just knew . .
.’

I know I should stand and lead him back to the others. Whatever I do I shouldn’t hold him tighter. I shouldn’t breathe in the smell of his neck and I definitely shouldn’t ask
the question . . .

‘Knew what?’

‘That I’ve loved you since the day I saw you.’

And that’s it. He was my first kiss. He’s my first love. The first boy to tell me he loves me. As my arms tighten around his neck I know without doubt that I shouldn’t have
asked.

I can tell straight away that Faith and Imrin have done the job I needed them to. Opie’s parents are next to each other as we sit in a circle around the edge of the
tepee. There are a handful of makeshift chairs that have been created from various pieces of scrap metal, but most of us are on the ground. Opie’s mother is angling away from her husband,
with obvious tension between them.

I am next to my mum at the opposite end, with Jela by me and Hart on the other side of my mother. Hart seems pale and has been guzzling water all morning but insists he is fine. Pietra is by
Imrin, with Opie on the other side of him. Imrin and Opie haven’t said a word to each other, both looking awkwardly towards me. Faith is by Opie’s mother, Iris, in a piece of perfect
placement engineered entirely by her. Samuel has been sent outside to keep watch over the rest of the children, much to his annoyance.

‘I know you haven’t got a screen, so there has been a lot of confusion about what’s happened since the Offering,’ I say. ‘It’s true that I am wanted for
attempting to kill the King and it’s true that all of you are in huge danger, not only for hiding away from the authorities but because I’m here too.’

I pause to let it sink in. Evan Cotton says something under his breath but his wife instantly leaps to my defence. ‘Will you just sit down and shut up,’ Iris bellows, leaving him to
look suitably chastened, exactly as I wanted. Faith catches my eye from across the room but neither of us needs to say anything.

After that, I run through everything that happened from the moment the train left Martindale to us walking into the camp that morning. Unlike with Hart’s parents, I don’t skip over
details. Opie’s mother’s hand shoots down to rest on Faith’s shoulders in sympathy at various points, as she sends dagger-like glares at her husband in between.

Evan is unconvinced. ‘If all of that is true, then why wouldn’t you hand yourself in? It’s obviously a mistake that they think you tried to kill the King – you escaped
because you were unhappy being away from home. Anyone could understand that.’