The Disappearances (2 page)

‘Of course I’m excited,’ she said, forcing another smile, a light-hearted expression. She was excited, after all. Every time Raffy so much as mentioned the wedding she got jolts all around her body. Excitement, fear; they were the same thing. Sort of.

She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘It’s going to be quite something.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Raffy breathed, rolling off the bed then grinning at her. ‘Married. Seriously. Did you ever think this would happen when we were in the City? Did you?’

Evie opened her mouth to explain that she meant being formally accepted into the Settlement, but she closed it again. She should have meant marrying him. There was something wrong with her. Something terribly wrong and she had to protect Raffy from it, even if she couldn’t protect herself.

They had been here for about a year. After they had left the City for the last time, destroyed the System that had so blighted their lives, they had gone back to Base Camp where Linus and his friends lived, but within days, Linus had told them that they had to find their own place to live, that Base Camp was only a tempor-ary place, that they had to find somewhere that would be a real home. And at first, Evie had refused to countenance the idea, had railed against Linus, told him that they had to stay together, that she’d found a new family and wasn’t going to lose it. But Linus had just smiled at her, those twinkly eyes of his disarming her as he told her about the Settlement, a place he’d never been to but heard great things about, a community of good people where they could live, could flourish.

And eventually Evie had agreed, not because she wanted to go to the Settlement, but because she realised that for Linus, it was over; the battle had been won. It was he who needed to move on; he who needed everyone to leave. Linus was not like anyone she’d ever known. Wise, infuriating, tough, secretive, he had been one of the founders of the City, had built the System from scratch as a benevolent force to meet people’s needs and ensure that everyone was happy. Except the System had been corrupted, the Brother had taken control and, fearful for his life, Linus had left to establish a base from which he communicated secretly with the City, waiting for the right time to disable the System once and for all, to kill off the monster that he had inadvertently created.

Now that was done, Linus had no need for Base Camp any more, and Evie recognised that she and Raffy had to leave, because soon everyone would be gone and they would be left behind with nothing.

And so they had come to the Settlement, with a message from Linus to Benjamin, its leader, a man Linus had met briefly in the early days of the City, a man, he told Evie and Raffy, who had good eyes, which was apparently enough for him to judge the entire Settlement.

But he’d been right, as he usually was.

The Settlement was a cooperative that had been established by Benjamin twenty years before. It had started as a small camp, according to Stern, Benjamin’s second in command, who had shown them around on the day they arrived. He told them that it had grown over the years and was now a sprawling landmass full of houses and farms and people who worked not because a system required it but because they wanted to, because they needed to, because that was what living here required.

Because life was harder here than in the City, Stern had told them, food would not materialise unless they farmed it; buildings would not be erected unless they themselves built the foundations. Here there were no computers, no government jobs and no shops; there was a market for bartering, and there were long days full of hard work.

He’d looked at them then, thoughtfully, as though waiting for them to say something. But they hadn’t; they’d both remained silent, because they had just seen Benjamin walk past, Benjamin whose name was always uttered in revered tones, Benjamin, whose presence could be felt even before he entered a room.

Within the Settlement, Benjamin was like a god; his story one of myth and legend, a fighter who refused to let the Horrors keep him down, who continued to fight, to strive, to motivate, to lead, who set up the Settlement to reward those who had assisted him, who expected the best in people and because of his belief in them, usually got it. No one knew where Benjamin had come from or what his life had been like before the Horrors. There were rumours, of course: he had been a soldier, a priest, an athlete, a politician. But Benjamin never spoke about the past. He and Stern had survived the Horrors together and had determined to build something in the ruins, to offer hope, to offer a future.

And that’s exactly what the Settlement had offered Evie and Raffy. Stern had been right when he said that there were long days of hard work in the Settlement, but life wasn’t harder here than the City, not to Evie, anyway. It was like a paradise to her; so far from the City with its rules and restrictions that she could hardly believe it was on the same planet.

And it was all because of Benjamin.

‘Ah, we finally meet.’

Evie still felt the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen when she remembered meeting Benjamin for the first time. Stern had appeared in front of them, a week after they had first arrived at the Settlement, and asked them to follow him. And as he had led them towards Benjamin’s private quarters, she had felt her heartbeat quicken, had seen Raffy’s posture grow taller, seen his eyes widen just slightly; he, too, had known what was happening, who they were being taken to. Raffy had tried to play down the whole evaluation thing, telling Evie that they were evaluating the Settlement just as much as the Settlement was evaluating them, but as he padded silently behind Stern, she knew that this meeting mattered to him just as much as it did to her. Something had changed in Raffy since they’d got here; for once he seemed genuinely to want to please, to be accepted.

‘So,’ Benjamin had said as they were brought into his room, Evie’s eyes darting round and taking in the low seating, the lack of objects, the simplicity of the space. ‘How do you like this Settlement of ours?’

Evie stared up at him. He was tall, a mountain of a man. And broad; his frame was twice the size of Raffy’s, and even though it was covered in long hessian robes, it was clear from the way he moved that he was strong, muscular, a man not to be challenged lightly. But his eyes were kind, his face genuine. Immediately Evie knew that she would do everything she could to make him like her, to like them both, to make sure that he let them stay here.

They both nodded fervently.

Benjamin smiled. ‘You know, when we started to build this place, I was angry. Very angry at what had happened, at the destruction, the devastation that the Horrors had created. But I knew that anger is itself a destructive force, that I had to let it go if we were going to build a truly good place to live.’

He looked at Raffy, then at Evie; they both blanched. It was as if Benjamin was looking deep inside them and seeing the anger within, the frustration, the resentment.

Evie opened her mouth to reassure Benjamin that they, too, were ready to let their anger go, but to her surprise, Raffy got there first. ‘Anger serves a purpose when there is something to direct it on,’ he said, stepping forwards. ‘Now we are both ready to let go of our anger. We want to be happy. We want to be here.’

As he spoke, Evie’s mouth fell open because she had never heard him sound so earnest; there was no undertone of sarcasm, no knowing look. He felt her gaze; turned towards her. And she’d felt a surge of happiness, because for the first time in her life she saw Raffy looking like he had found his path. He didn’t look tortured; he wasn’t angry, nor sullen. Instead his face was full of determination and focus, and it was infectious.

Benjamin smiled again. ‘I’m glad to hear it. You see, what we’re doing here is building a new life, a new future. The past is another place. Your past, my past, everyone’s past. Our pasts cannot be changed. But we do not have to dwell on them either. We can learn from what has happened and we can move on, look to the future. Out of the worst pain can come strength; out of suffering can come resolve, out of desperation can come love and community. And that is what we have here. A community. A place owned by those within it, ruled by them, organised by them. A place where everyone has a role, where everyone contributes. Does that sound like a place you’d like to live?’

‘Yes,’ Raffy said immediately. Evie nodded too.

‘Good,’ Benjamin said. ‘So let me tell you a little bit about the Settlement. You see, many years ago, there was nothing much here. But there was the river to the north and hills around us for protection; I knew it would be a good place for a new start. There was just a few of us at first, about ten families. We built the first houses, and ploughed the first fields about thirty years ago. We wanted to build a safe community, a peaceful one where no one would go hungry, where no one would be afraid. But more than that, I wanted to build a settlement where people could reach their potential, where they could learn, and discover new things, where no one would be held back. Where children would be the responsibility of everyone, not just their parents. Where everyone would be encouraged to find their purpose, to find fulfilment. Life is nothing if we are not fulfilled, if we don’t feel valued, wouldn’t you agree?

Evie nodded, but again it was Raffy who spoke, who said a resounding ‘yes’. And as Benjamin continued to talk, Evie had watched in wonderment as Raffy transformed in front of her, his cynicism replaced by wide-eyed adoration. He had listened to Benjamin talk, transfixed by his story, by his hopes for the Settlement, for its people. He had listened in silence, not looking down, not shuffling from foot to foot as he usually did, but eyes wide, looking intently into Benjamin’s. Like a hound, Evie had found herself thinking. Like the farm dogs that followed their masters around the City, never leaving their side, waiting patiently at their feet for the smallest scrap of food.

‘So,’ Benjamin had said eventually, after he had told them about the Settlement’s foundations, about its egalitarian nature, its back-to-basics philosophy, about his own determination to ensure that everyone could be fed, clothed and cared for, their bodies and minds nourished, ‘what is it that you think you can contribute to our community? What is it that you two will bring to the Settlement?’

Evie had looked up at Benjamin worriedly; even though this was not the City, even though she was no longer ruled by the System, by Labels, by a mother who constantly criticised her and berated her, she still found it hard to shake her fear of those in charge. ‘We will work hard,’ she managed to say. ‘We have skills. I can sew. And we’re determined.’

‘I’m please to hear it,’ Benjamin had said gently, then turned to Raffy. ‘And how about you, young man?’

Evie had held her breath at that point; if she had a residual fear of those in power, Raffy had only loathing and resentment; whenever he had been asked a question like that in the City, his answer, always insolent, had often landed him with some punishment or other. But instead, Raffy stepped forwards.

‘What will we bring?’ he asked, looking Benjamin right in the eye. ‘We’ll bring ourselves. Completely. Wholeheartedly.’ And Evie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, because she’d never heard him sound so sure of anything.

Benjamin had laughed. But not unkindly. ‘That’s all I can ask,’ he’d said, his eyes twinkling. ‘In which case I am happy that you are joining us. As a matter of fact, I am always delighted when young people join our Settlement, because we need youth here; we need your energy, your ideas. But we also need the next generation. Do you two intend to get married and have children?’

Evie had looked over at Raffy, not sure what to say, but he showed no such reticence. ‘Yes,’ he’d said immediately. ‘Yes, we do.’

And if there had been an opportunity for Evie to step in, to say that nothing had actually been decided yet, then she hadn’t seen it; couldn’t see it now, either. Because to contradict Raffy would have been to say that he wasn’t telling the truth – hardly a good start for two people looking for acceptance.

And anyway, she was in love with Raffy. Had always been in love with Raffy. She wanted to marry him.

Didn’t she?

She opened her eyes again; back in their bedroom, Raffy was still staring at her, just like he always did, dark curls framing his face. He grinned. ‘Just wait till everyone sees us on our wedding day,’ he said, his eyes lighting up. ‘Just wait till everyone sees once and for all that you’re mine.’

Evie exhaled slowly. She couldn’t let this one go, however hard she tried. ‘Raffy,’ she said, in a tone of voice she seemed to use a lot lately, a tone that was considered, careful. ‘Raffy, I wish you wouldn’t keep talking about me like that. Like I’m a possession––’

‘I know,’ he said quickly, his brown eyes wide and warm like a dog’s. ‘I’m sorry. But I can’t help it. I want to belong to you; I want you to be mine. Want everyone to know it.’

He looked so earnest, Evie found herself melting. ‘And they will,’ she promised. ‘We will totally belong to each other.’

Raffy smiled. ‘And then no one else will ever look at you again,’ he said, lightly. ‘No one will ever look at you and think they’ve got a chance.’

Evie stared at him, all the warmth suddenly gone. ‘No one looks at me,’ she said, her voice strained now. ‘No one, Raffy. It’s all in your head.’

Raffy stared at her incredulously. ‘You have no idea how beautiful you are,’ he said, sitting on the bed and watching her as she got dressed. ‘You don’t know what men are like.’

Evie didn’t reply; she walked instead towards the small bathroom they shared with four other couples, who they often ate with, talked and laughed with. At least Evie did. Mainly with the girls. If she spoke to their partners when Raffy wasn’t there and he found out, he would fly into a rage. It sometimes felt like Evie had left the City where the System monitored her every move, only to find that Raffy had taken over the job himself, watching her, monitoring her, checking up on who she had spoken to, who might have caught her eye inadvertently.

But while his jealousy was debilitating, frustrating, restrictive, Evie knew that it wasn’t his fault. It was hers. Because a year ago, on a day when her world had come crumbling down around her feet, on the day that she and Raffy had gone on the run, she’d kissed Lucas, Raffy’s brother. She’d told Raffy about the kiss; had hoped that he might forgive her, perhaps even understand. But he hadn’t. And ever since then, he hadn’t allowed her out of his sight.