Dystopia: YA Paranormal Adventure Romance (16 page)

Chapter 20

Wednesday 18 September 6:17pm

Sasha Hunter

The city lights of London spread out in the distance as we drive away from Cane Hill. We descend through a dense forest, following the winding country road which snakes downhill. Zara insisted on taking the wheel, even though Aaron had offered. I feel so sorry for her and the awful situation with her mum. It was brave of her to bring us to see her in the hope she might give us an insight. I can't help but feel guilty for making a move on Aaron in the back of Zara's car while she was visiting her mentally ill mother. What was I thinking? I suddenly feel like a stupid little girl with a hopeless crush. Zara has been nothing but supportive and protective; it's no wonder I don't have any friends.

"We need to find a place to bed down for the night," says Zara. "Somewhere that's not on Blake's radar."

Aaron scratches at the stubble on the side of his face.

"Well, we can't go back to HQ and we can't risk going to Sasha's house either."

"What about a hotel?" I suggest.

"Not an option," says Zara. "We don't have enough cash, and I don't want to use our credit cards which are registered to The Agency."

The idea of The Agency is fine, until you become the one they are tracking.

"Do you guys know anyone who can put us up for the night?"

My question is left hanging in the air. It's suddenly very apparent that none of us have any close friends or family we can call on in these types of situations. It's reassuring to know that I'm not the only one who is a loner, although this doesn't exactly solve our problem. Aaron is the first to make a suggestion.

"It's not ideal, but we could go to my mum's place. I've not been to see her in a while, but she's pretty laid back. Actually, she's usually half-comatose. I moved out a few years ago, so I'm pretty sure Blake wouldn't have her address on record."

"Sounds like our only option," says Zara. "Let's do it."

"Glad you're so excited," replies Aaron with humorous sarcasm. "Head to East London, she lives in Canning Town."

I feel a pang of hurt at the thought that we're
now going to see Aaron's mother. Am I the only one without a mum? I quickly eradicate the self-pity and curse myself for being so absorbed with my own problems. It's not like Zara and Aaron have perfect domestic situations.

When I reach behind the back seat for my bag, I see something through the rear window. It's a black car and it's rapidly closing the distance between us. As it gets closer, I'm able to make out the model: Mercedes 4x4, accident damaged.

"Don't look now, but I think we're being followed!"

Aaron turns around sharply from the passenger seat.

"It's Ludvig."

"How can you tell?" I ask,
squinting my eyes and barely making out anything more than the silhouette shape of the driver.

"I can feel him," replies Aaron. "He's alone, and he's on a mission. How the hell has he found us out here?"

Zara curses and stomps her foot down. Rover lurches forward reluctantly like an old dog slow to react to its master's command.

"Blake must have put a tracker on Rover.
Ludvig has waited until we're in a secluded place to make his move. Clever."

"So what do we do now?" I ask, not feeling the same admiration for our enemy.

"It means we'll have to ditch the car." Zara pats the dashboard. "This could be our last adventure old boy."

"It will be if you don't get us out of here!" shouts Aaron.

Zara reacts by pulling the car off the road and into the forest. I hang onto the back seat and crane my neck to look out of the rear window. The Mercedes easily manoeuvres through the trees, following our tyre tracks. It's a mismatch: a modern, top-of-the-range 4x4 against a thirty year old car. I only hope Zara's skill as a driver can bridge the gap.

"He's on us," I yell as
Ludvig's headlights invade Rover's cabin.

The forest becomes dense; the gaps between the thick trees smaller. Headlights flash left to right as the car veers from one direction to the other. A small animal scampers across our path.

"Hold on," says Zara, with no intention of slowing down.

The speed seems to increase rapidly. It's not because Rover has found a new lease of life; it's because we've started to hurtle downhill. Aaron grins at Zara like he's somehow enjoying this.

"I take it you know that this situation works out OK?"

"
No idea," says Zara, gripping the wheel so tightly that the skin stretches across her knuckles.

Aaron turns to me and winks. I can see the glint of excitement in his eyes. In this way, he's exactly the opposite of me; he thrives on the thrill of the chase whereas I go weak with fear. Aaron and I are so utterly different.

"I think we've lost him," he says, scanning the forest behind us.

Without warning, a fireball explodes twenty metres in front of the car. Zara reacts immediately by yanking on the wheel and swerving around the flames. Rover loses a wing mirror as we brush the trunk of a tree. That was too close. Two more fireballs land in our path as though launched by some hidden medieval catapult. Each fireball is the size of a football and packs tremendous power upon impact. Zara pulls a hard right sending Rover onto two wheels. It's like a
roller coaster ride from hell and there's no getting off.

"What'
s doing that?" I ask. "Some kind of rocket launcher?"

Despite the pressure of the situation, Zara is calm and her answer is dead-pan.

"Not quite. Ludvig is a Pyromorph; he can throw fire all on his own. I've always had my suspicions."

I'm about to ask what a
Pyromorph is when the back of the car explodes into flames. The impact feels like we've hit a land mine. Somehow Zara retains control, keeping Rover steady enough to stay upright and avoid smashing head-on into a tree. The back window has shattered, leaving no protection from the wild flames. My ears are left ringing and I'm unable to make out Aaron as he turns and shouts something to me. The heat blast inside the burning car is horrific, but far worse than that is the smoke, which threatens to suffocate me at any moment. The air is replaced by a thick, acrid cloud. I pull my scarf up over my nose and it offers a thin layer of protection.

In a matter of seconds, my throat and nose are burning. A coughing fit begins soon after and my lungs
begin to feel as if they are melting from the inside out. A hot sensation scorches my chest, like I've inhaled poison. Discomfort turns to distress and each strained breath comes with a searing pain. The smoke presses around my face like a pillow, trying to suffocate me. Now I'm hyperventilating and losing control of my breathing.

Zara and Aaron exchange
words, but all I can hear is the high pitched ringing in my ears. When I look beyond them, through the smoke and out of the car's front window, I immediately understand their plan. The forest descends into a lake, and Zara plans to send Rover straight into it. I can no longer breathe and can barely see, but I feel Aaron grip me as he climbs onto the back seat. He unclicks my seatbelt and leans across to open my passenger door. I can't hear and everything is moving in slow motion. Zara shouts and although it's a dull and distant sound, I recognise the urgency.

Aaron yells
something, then pushes me from the burning car.

I hit the soft forest floor and roll until my back slams into the thick trunk of a tree. Adrenaline keeps the pain at
bay, but not the dizziness. At least I can breathe again. I open my eyes in time to see Rover crashing into the dark waters of the lake. The black Mercedes flies by then flashes its brake lights to stop just before the edge of the bank. The rear end of Rover slowly sinks into the water, still burning furiously.

Everything happened so
fast, but I'm sure Zara and Aaron had no time to get out before the car hit the lake. Ludvig steps out of the Mercedes and watches as the last of Rover submerges. I lie still and hope he didn't see me bail from the car; I'm sure that was Zara and Aaron's plan. If it was, it didn't work. He turns and paces directly torward me. I can't move, even though I desperately want to. The last thing I see before I pass out is his large hands reaching down for me, glowing like hot coals.

+ + +

Darkness. Total and all consuming. I have to blink hard to convince myself that my eyes are open as there is no difference in my vision either way. I'm lying on a cold, hard surface. When I try to lift myself up onto my elbows I bump my head. Stretching my arms out is also impossible; I barely have six inches of space on either side of my shoulders. My palms strike another hard surface above my head. When I shuffle lower, my feet hit a similarly solid wall. Panic starts to rise through my aching body. I can't be sure of anything in this total blackness, but it's fair to assume that I'm trapped in a very small space.

Am I in a car boot? In the dead
silence, I'm aware of my breathing becoming rapid and snatched and I clench my hands by way of self-control. I pad my pockets: the small knife and the hangman game are on one side and my mobile is on the other. I pull my mobile out to use it as a light, just as I did in the Tyburn tunnel. And that's when the space reveals its identity: a coffin.

I scream and thrash my arms and legs uselessly. The scream is not for help, because nobody can possibly save me. I scream because that's
what my body tells me to do in this moment of extreme crisis. It's an involuntary reaction, and doesn't help one bit except as an outlet for my terror. I tell myself to calm down and try to regulate my breaths; in through the nose, out through the mouth. Yelling only leads to further panic, which will increase my heart rate and quicken my breathing. By now, I know how terror works: I let it control me for a few seconds, and then force myself to think.

Assess the situation. It's a coffin, of that there's little doubt. The wood seems fairly thick and the lid won't budge at all. When I'm not moving or gasping I'm struck by the complete silence. The ringing in my ears has gone and I have no idea how long I was out for. I check my mobile for a signal.
Nothing. Worse still, the battery has less than five percent left. But that's not my biggest concern. I've probably got around thirty minutes worth of oxygen in here, but I know my asthma will explode before I run out.

Think, Sasha: what happened? How did I get here, wherever "here" is? I can remember the car chase and the fireballs. The memory feels hazy, like a dream. Zara d
escribed Ludvig as a Pyromorph ─ he was the one who set Rover on fire. Then Aaron threw me from the car just before they hit the lake. After that I can't remember a thing. Did Zara and Aaron escape, or did Ludvig finish them off, just as Blake had threatened to do at Tyburn? Was it Ludvig who buried me in this coffin? I'll probably never know.

I pull the hangman game from my pocket and examine it under the light of my mobile, hoping for some kind of clue. The message is stark and final:

My fingers fold the yellowed paper, and my throat tightens like I'm having an allergic reaction from touching it. I stuff it away and rub my hands on my jeans, taking hard swallows of air until the feeling subsides. It isn't my nature to go down without a fight, even when things seem insurmountable. I shift as something digs into my side; it's the knife, nestled in my back pocket. I pull it out and wedge it into the gap around the lid. Using it as a lever, I work it up and down to try and prise the coffin open. After what feels like an eternity, I make the smallest of gaps, but as soon as I do grains of earth begin to pour inside. I accept the awful truth that I've been buried alive.

I allow myself one minute of weakness to cry. I've never been one to cry in front of other people, always saving my tears for moments of private weakness.
Trapped inside the coffin, I couldn't imagine a more private space, or a more fitting reason to cry. The idea of being buried alive is so repellent that I thrust it from my mind. I might not completely have a handle on who or what I am, but I know enough not to let inconsequential things ─ like life-threatening situations ─ stop me.

"Be strong, Sasha," I tell myself out loud. "You didn't come this far for it to end like this."