Noughts and Crosses (39 page)

I took off my sandals and headed for the moonlit water. I couldn’t remember when I’d felt more at peace with myself. I’d finally got a lot of things straight in my head.
Like Dad. For him, his political career came first, last and every number in between. Dad was never going to have any time for me and my sister and my mother. The only reason we’d been around at all was because a ‘stable’ family was a necessary, compulsory adjunct for a politician. And that was OK. That was the life Dad had chosen for himself and my days of pining about it were over.

I shifted my heels, then toes, to stop my feet from sinking into the wet sand. I kicked up the water lapping over my feet and ankles, watching it fly up and out in an arc of silvery droplets. Laughing, I did it again and again, alternating kicking feet, delighting in my childish game. And then I thought of my mother, and the game stopped.

Mother. I’d always be a disappointment to her. That was never going to change. I was simply not enough. Not ladylike enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough. Not enough. And that was OK too. Her life was her major disappointment, her mistakes carved into every premature line in her face, but I wasn’t going to let her use my life as her second chance. I had plans. In September I’d be eighteen years old and I had my whole life and the whole world in front of me. A world full of choices and decisions and opportunities – and they were all mine for the taking.

And as for Callum and me? Well, I didn’t want the moon. I was prepared to settle for friendship between us. It would never be the way it was years ago and it’d never be the way I wanted it to be, but maybe we could find something new to take the place of what we had before. Maybe.

I glanced at my watch, wondering where Callum had
got to. I turned, almost as if thinking about Callum would conjure him up. I gasped. Callum was standing right behind me, his appearance so sudden that he might’ve been a ghost, able to appear and disappear at will. And he looked so different. He’d shot up like a beanstalk. He was lean now, rather than skinny. He’d definitely sprouted muscles! And his dark cords and leather jacket made him look . . . mysterious somehow. His hair was longer too, almost shoulder-length. It suited him. Everything about him seemed different. Callum the boy had disappeared and in his place . . . I smiled, chiding myself. It was as if I’d expected time to stand still for him. I’m glad it hadn’t though! Had I changed as much? I guess I must’ve.

‘Good sneaking!’ I congratulated him with a wry smile.

Slipping on my sandals, I stepped forward, my arms outstretched for a hug. I expected a similar jovial reply in greeting, but he didn’t even smile. And even in this light, I could tell something was wrong. My arms dropped to my sides.

‘Callum?’

Callum stepped forward and kissed me. A brief, icy-cold kiss on the lips. He stepped away from me, his eyes filled with regret. And then I saw them behind him. Four of them. Four noughts. Walking towards us. Towards me. A quick glance at Callum. Shock on my face. Confirmation, resignation on his. And I didn’t wait to see any more. I turned and ran. Ran along the shore. Away from them. Away from Callum. Ran for my life. I could hear them yelling behind me. Not the words. I didn’t try to decipher the words.

Run, Sephy. Don’t stop . . .

No sounds of footsteps on the sand. Just shouts and curses and laboured breathing. No lights to guide my way. Even the moonlight was fading as a cloud hid the moon’s face from me. Salty, damp air caught in the back of my throat. Run.
Run
.
RUN
.

Don’t look back . . . They’ll catch you if you do . . . Don’t look . . .

And most of all, don’t think. Don’t think about
him
. Don’t think about anything.
JUST RUN
.

And then I realized my mistake. I was kilometres from anywhere. And I was running away from the cliff steps, not towards them. And I had four noughts after me . . . Five.

Head for the sea . . .

I turned on my heels and sprinted towards the darkness. Before my third step, I was grabbed by the waist and swung around. I kicked back with my heels and swung my head back at the same time.

‘Oof!’

He dropped me and I hit the ground running.

‘Bloody dagger bitch!’

I ran straight into a crucifying punch to my stomach that had me instantly doubled over and retching onto the sand.

‘That’s for my sister,’ a voice above me said. At least I think it did. My stomach was on fire and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball. Arms clamped around my waist from behind and lifted me up, tightening until I could hardly breathe. The man who held me shook me hard then banged me down onto my feet. Without giving me a chance to catch my scattered breath, he immediately began to drag me backwards, his hands under my arms.
My bare heels dragged over sharp rocks and stones. I raised my arms to try and slide out of the man’s grasp. But he was ready for that one. My arms slid down his but he grabbed my hands before I could free myself and now I was being pulled backwards by my hands. My legs and my back were being punctured by the rocks and stones. The man holding me jumped up onto a boulder, almost pulling my arms out of their sockets as he dragged me after him. My whole body was pain now. Closing my eyes, I whimpered.

Don’t pass out! Open your eyes . . .

I opened my eyes to see the moon almost directly above me and just for one split second my body no longer hurt. Then a dark bag was shoved over my head and the world turned to blackest ink.

‘We did it!’ Jude was jubilant. ‘We ruddy
DID
it!’

Pete and Morgan danced an impromptu jig around each other. Yes, we had done it. We had Persephone Hadley, Kamal Hadley’s daughter. And she wouldn’t see the light of day again if Kamal didn’t agree to our demands. As simple as that. We’d bundled the unconscious Sephy into the boot of our car and now we had her stashed away where no-one would ever find her – or
us. We were in the middle of nowhere – the perfect location. Weren’t we clever?

‘I’m proud of you, little brother.’ Jude slapped me on the back.

I spun, grabbed his jacket and shoved him against the wall, all in one movement.

‘Don’t you ever doubt my loyalty again. D’you understand me?’ I hissed, my face only centimetres away from Jude’s.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Morgan step forward, only to be pulled back by Pete. I didn’t care. I’d take on all of them to get to Jude if I had to. My brother and I watched each other for silent moments.

‘D’you understand?’ I repeated, slamming him against the wall again.

‘I understand,’ Jude said.

I released him at once. We regarded each other.

‘So the mouse can roar, can he?’ Jude smiled.

I took a step forward, my fists clenched.

‘Peace, brother. Peace.’ Jude held up his hands, laughing at the expression on my face.

I clenched my fists even harder at that. Never before had I wanted to hurt him as much as I did now. I wanted to
destroy
him. Hatred churned inside me, feeding on itself and growing bigger.

‘You did a good job,’ Jude told me softly.

I turned away from the approbation on his face. Morgan, Pete and even Leila had the same look of praise and admiration all over their stupid faces too.

‘What’s our next move?’ Pete asked Jude, all past resentments forgotten.

‘We deliver the ransom note with proof we have her to the girl’s father,’ Jude replied.

‘What kind of proof?’ I asked more sharply than I intended.

‘What would you suggest, little brother?’

Another test. ‘I’ll sort that out. I’ll cut off some of her hair and film her holding today’s paper.’

‘Maybe we need something more convincing than just her hair?’ Jude suggested.

Another test.

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘You tell me, little brother.’

I made my mind go blank. It wasn’t Sephy in there. It was just some Cross female who we needed to get what we wanted. It wasn’t Sephy . . .

‘Something of hers that’s bloodstained might be more effective,’ I suggested.

‘Good idea.’ Jude nodded. ‘What would you suggest?’

‘Leave it to me. I’ll sort that out too.’ I took the camcorder down from the shelf and put a fresh disc inside it. A strange silence filled the room. I looked up to find all eyes upon me.

‘Yes?’ I said through gritted teeth.

Everyone made a big display of going about their business at that. I took some scissors and a sharp knife out of the drawer and, tucking today’s paper under my arm, I headed for Sephy’s prison cell. I walked along the short corridor of our three-room brick cabin. It wasn’t much. The kitchen was disgusting, with years of neglected grease and grime over practically every surface. Jude had suggested that someone clean it, looking pointedly at Leila
as he said so. In response, she’d let her fingers do the talking. Apart from the kitchen there was the living room, full of rolled-up sleeping bags, a small oak table and all the equipment we might need in a hurry: tins of food, weapons, a few explosives, a small TV, a radio, that sort of thing. The third room had been turned into a cell. Not by us. That was just what this place was used for, a place to hold a prisoner or two and their wardens.

Ever since the information had filtered down over two weeks ago now that Sephy could be on her way home, Jude and Pete had been plotting and planning for this moment. They’d got permission from the General himself to go ahead. And the General’s second-in-command was due to come and see us the day after it happened. So much scheming and calculating to bring us to this moment. We were pretty safe in this cabin; it was known to a select few on a need to know basis only. But we weren’t going to take any chances. Two of us would be on guard at all times, one out front and one out back. And as the cabin was in a clearing in some woods, anyone coming towards us would find themselves without cover of any kind before they reached us.

Everything was taken care of.

And we’d succeeded. We had Sephy.
NO!
Not Sephy . . . Just a Cross girl – who deserved everything she got, who’d get us everything we needed. I paused outside the cell door. I could do this. I had to do this.

Be what you have to be, Callum, not what you are . . .

I repeated that phrase over and over in my head, the way I used to do when I first joined the
L.M
. The way I
had to whenever there was something . . . distasteful that needed to be done.

Be what you have to be, Callum, not what you are
.

I unlocked the cell door and went inside.

At the sound of the door being unlocked, I struggled to sit up. My bed was just a wire spring base with a mattress as thin as a carrier bag. I groaned and winced, wrapping my arms around my painful stomach. It ached like nothing I’d ever felt before. My whole body hurt, from my heels to my nape. Had they tried to strangle me? My throat certainly hurt as if someone had done exactly that. The door opened. I moved my hands away from my abdomen. I wasn’t going to show any of my captors how badly hurt I was.