Half Lost (22 page)

I hold my arms out, saying, “I won't kill you.” I wait for him to stop. “Your friends aren't dead. Just stunned.”

A set of keys flies at my face but slides on past.

I tell him again, “I won't kill you. But I might hurt you if you keep throwing things at me.” And I send a small lightning bolt to his feet to remind him what I can do.

He puts his hands up in defeat. The room goes quiet again. He's shaking.

“What's your name?”

“Sean.”

“OK, Sean. Well, I'm serious about not killing you. If you do as I say, you won't get hurt at all.”

He doesn't reply, but then bends over and is sick. I take his handcuffs and put them on him and push him out and
down the corridor to the front door. Through the peephole I see Celia and Gabriel are already in the small holding room.

I tell Sean, “We've got to let my friends in. I need the password.”

He shakes his head.

“If you don't tell me, I'll kill your friends one by one. You understand that?”

The Tower

Sean is surprisingly cooperative. He only needed to be threatened once before telling me the password and that the keys were on his belt. Celia and Gabriel quickly enter and I tell Celia, “This is Sean. He's been very helpful.”

Sean says, “You'll all be killed. Or caught. And then you'll end up in here permanently.”

And then he surprises me by trying to headbutt me, which feels like a soft kiss on the end of my nose and his head is thrown back. That freaks him out and he kicks me, which obviously hurts him a lot and me not at all, though he still can't work it out. I think he might calm down but he just gets madder and it's a waste of time so I hit him and he falls unconscious.

I tell Celia, “The Hunters are dead but the guards are stunned. I think they'll be waking up soon.” And I show her where they are.

“Find a cell to put them in,” Celia says.

I go along the corridor to the first cell and look in the peephole. Of course it's occupied and when I see inside I begin to think we should kill the guards after all.

The only things in the cell are a thin mattress, blanket, toilet, and a prisoner. The prisoner is a woman, very thin
and very pale. Her eyes are those of a White Witch. She's wearing bright yellow overalls.

I go along the corridor looking for an empty cell, but each one is occupied and they're all the same: small and bare with a mattress, toilet, blanket, one prisoner in yellow overalls. It's grim. At the last cell the prisoner is sitting but looking at me. He smiles in a strange way when I open the peephole. He's old and thin but I recognize him straight- away. I don't even need to say hello, at least not out loud.

I use Mercury's pin to open the cell door and go in and kneel in front of him. He's sitting on the mattress, his back leaned against the wall, a blanket wrapped round him. His bare feet are pale, almost blue-white. He's painfully thin, but then he was never fat. He blinks slowly and stares at me. “Have I gone to heaven, gorgeous boy?”

I shake my head.

“Well, then, this is certainly an unexpectedly pleasant surprise.” Bob's voice is still as strong as ever, which is promising. I only met him once, for a short time, when he helped me on my search for Mercury. I hoped he'd escaped from Soul and the Hunters, but obviously not. Now I'm closer to him I see he's got purple bruises on one side of his neck that seem to stretch down to his shoulder.

“Are you OK?” I ask, and feel stupid because he really isn't.

“Old and tired, and a bit battered. But feeling a lot better for seeing you.” He tries to get up but has little strength and can't manage it.

“Don't try to move. Stay where you are. You're better here for now. I've dealt with the guards.”

“I take it you haven't done all that just to help me.”

“We're attacking the Council building.”

“Jolly good.”

“We need to empty a cell to put the guards in so I'm going to bring another prisoner in here. There'll be some medical help soon. But you have to stay here for now.”

I race back down the corridor and, with Gabriel's help, move the female prisoner from the first cell, along with her mattress and blanket, to Bob's cell. Then we drag all the guards into the first cell. They're heavy, fat. They disgust me. Some of them, including Sean, are waking up. And I just want to get them in and shut the door on them before I get too angry.

I go to the guardroom and look for food, finding some biscuits, a banana, and a bottle of water. I take them back to Bob and tell him, “You'll have to share it with your new cellmate.”

Celia says, “Time to go, Nathan. We can help the prisoners best by succeeding in our mission.”

Bob looks at Celia and says, “The Council meeting is happening. The Hunters on the last shift were whinging about the organization of it: there are a lot of Hunters in the building and not enough bathroom facilities apparently.”

I tell Celia, “Bob's Gift is that he can read minds.”

“Is there anything else you know that might help us?” Celia asks. “Anything about Soul, Wallend, or Jessica?”

“Not much, and nothing good, I'm afraid. The guards are too lowly to have even seen them. They fear them, though. The Hunters respect Jessica,” Bob says, and adds, “Wallend is a bit of a mystery. They all wonder what he's up to but no one seems to know. He's given the Hunters the power to go invisible, which they like. Now he's developing something called blue. A potion, but I don't know much about it.”

He pauses and then says, “If you don't mind me asking, are you serious about this attack? There don't seem to be many of you.”

I laugh. “Reinforcements are coming. But I better get going.”

“There's someone else here who may know more. Though I'm not sure how eager he will be to help.”

“Who?” Celia asks.

“Most prisoners I know from their fear. They spend a lot of time thinking about the past and what they shouldn't say. The guards think about the future. But someone else plans escape, plans revenge, plans a future, plans, plans, plans. Clay's mind is hardly ever at rest. He's on the top floor, I think. It's rather nice to know that the man who caused me to be here is now sharing the same fate.”

And I'm up and out of the door and down the corridor to the internal metal staircase and taking the steps two at a time until I'm at the top. Celia is close behind me, shouting at me to stop, that Clay won't tell me anyway. I keep moving quickly along, checking the cells, trying
not to think about the state of the prisoners I see.

Looking through the peephole to the last cell, I find it's as small and grim as all the others, but the prisoner here is sitting in a lotus position and is chained to the wall by both wrists. I can't help but smile.

I tell Celia, “It's him.”

She replies, “We don't have time for this.”

I open the door with Mercury's pin. I want him to see me standing over him.

His eyes are different. They still have lots of silver in them, so much that the blue is almost lost, but his right eye is deformed by a mass of scars that run down his face, and as he blinks I see that his eyelid doesn't properly cover his eye. Clay looks at us and says nothing and I keep the silence as long as possible. For fun I take out the Fairborn.

I say to Celia, “I'm not going to use it, just reminding him that I have it, that I took it from him and that because he lost it he's here in this cell.”

Clay says, “Celia, what an unexpected surprise.” And he stands now. He does it smoothly and slowly, but I detect a stiffness and although he's still big and muscular he's not looking at all like his old self. He's not tall but wide, and his neck is still big, but it's obvious that he's lost a lot of weight. “What brings you here”—and for the first time he looks at me as he says—“with
that
?”

He steps forward, stopping before the chains linking his arms to the wall go tight. And there's an energy to him still.

I say, “You suit the chains, Clay.”

His eyes are icy, but I can see emotion in there, lots of it. Lots of hate. And I'm not sure if it's all for me. “Has Jessica been to visit you here? I imagine she likes to see her men in chains.”

He ignores me and turns to Celia, asking, “Is there any particular reason for your visit?”

I want to ask Clay about Geneva, about how he knew where the apartment was that had the cut through to Mercury's cottage. Did Annalise tell him? Was she working for him? Was she a spy? Did she betray us?

Celia says, “No. Just checking on you. Time to go, Nathan.” And she starts to swing the door shut.

“I need to know something first.” And I grab the door and hold it open. “I want some information.”

Clay sneers at me.

“The night we stole the Fairborn from you. I was shot and injured but I made my way back to an apartment. There was a cut on the roof that led through to Mercury's cottage in the Swiss mountains. Do you remember it?”

He stares at me unblinking.

“
Do you reme
mber it?
” I repeat. “I got back to the apartment and the place was swarming with Hunters. You drove up. I saw you. I left and then came across Jessica.”

“And cut her pretty face.”

“Nathan,” Celia says, “we haven't got time for this.”

“You remember the apartment?” I ask.

“I've lost twenty kilos, not my memory,” Clay snaps.

“How did you find it, the apartment?”

He doesn't reply.

“Did Annalise tell you? Was she your spy?”

Clay smiles now. “Ah, Annalise.” He moves back to the far wall of the cell and slides down it to sit and look at me. “Where is she now, I wonder? Back with her Uncle Soul, some of the guards say.”

“Was she working for you all along?”

“Questions, questions, questions . . .”

“But not answers,” I say.

“And no time for them anyway,” Celia interjects.

“Let me out of here and I'll tell you,” Clay says, staring at me.

“Tell me and I won't kill you.”

“Well, you'll never know if you kill me.”

“Nathan, there's no time for this. You have to go,” Celia says.

Clay smiles at me and says, “Better do as you're told and run along. I'm sure I'll still be here later.”

“You'll be here forever,” I reply and swing the door shut.

When this is over I want Clay swimming in truth potions. I want Bob to dig through his brain and find out everything he knows, though in honesty I'm not sure what difference it makes anymore what Annalise did or didn't do. She shot my father and that's all that matters.

Thumbs

I go to the cut that leads to the Council building, Celia following close behind barking at me, “I need you to follow my orders. When I say go, you have to go.”

“I'm going now. OK?”

Further down the corridor I see Greatorex, Adele, and a couple of the other trainees arriving. Gabriel is waiting for me at the cut in a Hunter uniform.

I turn to Celia and tell her, “I could have killed Clay. I didn't. You told me to go. I went.”

“Eventually.”

We glare at each other.

Gabriel says, “Did I miss something?”

Celia looks at me and says, “Nothing important.”

It was important to me. I say to Celia, “Annalise may be a prisoner here in the Tower. Do you want me to go and look for her?”

“No. I want you to do the mission as we planned.”

“OK. I'm going to do the mission as planned. Are you ready, Gabriel?”

He says yes and I say to Celia, “See how good I am at following orders.”

I know I haven't got time to look for Annalise and I'm
fairly sure she isn't here in the Tower anyway from what Clay said, and if she is Celia will ensure she stays put.

Celia says, “You both know what to do.” And, looking hard at me, she says firmly, “Do it. Stay focused and we can win this.”

Gabriel's job is to wait in the Council building, disguised as a Hunter until the fighting starts, then send a text message to Celia, and the Alliance fighters will come through the cut. I know Gabriel will be the first to join the battle. I wish he'd hang back, be last and not take any risks, but there's no point in even suggesting that. The main way to keep him safe is the way to keep everyone safe: get Soul.

Gabriel changes his appearance to a crop-haired Hunter, and I recoil. He looks almost like Kieran. He says, “I've taken the ID of one of the Hunters that were working here. Is it no good?”

“Too good, I think.” And I grasp his hand, take a breath, become invisible, and slide into the cut.

The darkness of the cut lasts only a second. Then I'm thrown out into more cold darkness, stumbling to my knees on a stone floor, Gabriel pulling me up. We hardly made a sound, but we hold still, listening.

We're in a dark room but light seeps through the cracks around the door. There are voices on the other side, two of them, but then it goes silent. I think they've left but I wait ten seconds to make sure before using Mercury's pin to pick the lock. We make our way through the corridors and I quickly get my bearings.

We're in the southwest corner of the basement. The cells are to the west, but I have to go east to the stairs that come up into the main foyer. We don't see anyone until we get to the top. Then there are Hunters. Lots of them.

Gabriel pulls me back and whispers, “You think they're here because of the meeting or because they know we're coming?”

“Does it matter?”

“At least I don't stand out so much when there's so many of them.” And I know Gabriel will try to mingle with the Hunters, find out what's happening. “You'd better go.”

I can only hope his natural ability to fit in anywhere works even here.

I walk slowly and carefully past the Hunters, making sure I don't touch any of them, and I'm in the huge foyer of the Council building. It's not
full
of Hunters but there must be over twenty of them standing to either side of the main door and there's a small, slim man behind an enquiries desk.

I take the stairs three at a time, and on the first-floor landing there are more Hunters again: ten of them. I carry on up, slowly now, to the top floor. There are four Hunters on the second landing and I see two more patrolling the third- and fourth-floor corridors, but the top floor is quiet and empty.

It's different from how I'd imagined it from practicing in the mock-up. The wooden floor has a strip of red carpet leading down the middle but overall it's light, airy, and warm. I'd imagined it to be dark and gray. I go right and to
the first door, as I rehearsed in the forest. The room is furnished and doesn't appear to be in use. I work my way along the corridor, checking each room, and every one is similar and similarly unused.

I hope for better luck the other way and turn back to try the corridor that heads left from the top of the stairs into the area that Celia hadn't managed to re-create in the mock-up.

I listen at the first door but there are no sounds except the hiss of phones. That hiss fills the building: there're lots of people with phones, and lots of computers and electrical equipment. I try the handle and it opens. The room beyond is a large book-lined study. There's an old leather briefcase by the side of a wooden desk and a coat thrown over the back of a leather armchair. No one is in here but there's a door to another room. I go to that and listen again. I can hear music. Classical music.

I'm fairly sure that whoever owns the coat is in the room with the music and there has to be a good chance that the owner is Wallend. But I want to get close to him without raising the alarm and I want to find out how many other people there are on this floor.

I go out and try the next door along the corridor. This opens to a smaller office, with a desk and chair, shelves and a small sofa, and some personal things: papers, a laptop, and a handbag. This office also has a door leading to another room, and from it I can hear the classical music again. I think this door leads to the same place as the door in Wallend's office.

I carry on with my check of the corridor, speeding up now. The next door is locked but Mercury's pin opens it easily and I find another unused office. There's one door left to check. There are no sounds coming from behind it. I use Mercury's pin and enter.

This is not an unused office.

There are three gurneys, each with a gray cloth over them, and their shape indicates that a body lies beneath each one.

I go to the first and pull the sheet back. It's a woman. Brown hair, eyes open, staring, no glints in them. Her skin is pale. She has a tattoo on her neck:
W 1.0
. As I pull the sheet further back, I see that her chest is open. There is no blood—that has all been taken out and, as far as I can see, so has her heart. I look at her hands to see if she has similar tattoos to me. Her little finger has a single tattoo on the side of it:
W 1.0
.

I go to the next body. This is also a woman, black-skinned but mutilated the same way as the first.

The last body is different. It's a girl. She can't be more than eleven or twelve. She has a tattoo on her neck and finger as well, and her chest is also open.

The room itself is cold. Very cold. The walls are lined with shelves and bottles that seem to contain parts taken out of these victims. There's drawers of surgical equipment.

There is also a door to another room. I go and listen. Nothing. No music.

I try the knob and am surprised that it's not locked. I go in.

The room is vast and contains rows of metal shelves,
each protected by a glass door. And on each shelf, bottles. And in each bottle . . . parts of bodies. I slide a glass door back and pick one up to check. In the bottle is something fleshy and dark. I think it might be a liver. It has
W 1.0
tattooed on it.

I go to the door at the far end of the room and, yes, at this door I can hear the classical music. I'm sure Wallend and his assistant are inside but there may be guards too. And I know the chances of me getting into this room without Wallend noticing something are slim, so my options are limited. I need to move quickly. But I don't want to raise the alarm if I can avoid it.

I retrace my steps to Wallend's office, making sure the doors are locked behind me. I don't want anyone to run and escape this way. Back in Wallend's office I go to the door in the far wall and listen for the music but a man's talking now, though he's not in the room; he's on the radio introducing some Beethoven.

I take hold of the doorknob, concentrate again to ensure I stay invisible, and slowly and gently open the door far enough to slip inside the room.

Beethoven starts, nice and slow. I close the door quietly.

The room is bright. Skylights line the ceiling. At the far end of the room are two figures sitting at a bench. They are bent over, working. A man and a young woman. The man has his back to me. He's narrow, thin, wearing a white lab coat, and although I can't see his head because he's bent over I know it's him: Wallend.

The woman looks toward me and the door. She must have noticed a movement. She says something to Wallend and he turns as I approach him and he looks right through me.

The room is a laboratory, full of equipment and jars and tubes and stuff that I've no idea about. I daren't use electricity in here. I take the Fairborn and see that Wallend and the girl are not bent over a desk but a body laid out on a bench. The body of a man and on his neck is a tattoo in large letters:
B 1.0
. His chest is cut open, his heart exposed.

I go to Wallend's assistant and neither me nor the Fairborn hesitate. Her blood flows over my hand and the assistant's body slips silently to the floor. I allow myself to become visible.

Wallend stares at me. He has a scalpel in his hand. I hold up the Fairborn and say, “Care to try your luck?”

Wallend steps back between the tables and turns, and I go round fast to follow him and I'm on him in three strides. I grab his arm and pull hard but he squirms round behind a desk. My hand slides down to his wrist and I slam his hand onto the wooden desktop and pin it to the surface with the Fairborn. Wallend's shaking, not resisting, and I use the scalpel to fix his other hand in place. He still hasn't said a word: no scream of pain, no cry for help.

Beethoven is playing, a nice tune—very soothing, gentle, not that funereal stuff.

I say to Wallend, “I have to tell you that I'll probably kill you whether you help me or not. But the longer you live the bigger the chances are that you'll carry on living.
When the rest of the Alliance gets here they'll want you alive. Want to put you on trial and stuff like that.”

He doesn't say anything, just shakes.

“I really can't be bothered with all that, though. I mean, as far as I'm concerned, you're guilty of murder. Lots of it.”

Now he speaks. “And you're not?”

“We're talking about you today. You're guilty. The question is: can you stop me from executing you?”

“Wh-what?”

“I need you to show me how the Hunters go invisible.”

He shakes his head.

I take another scalpel from the end of the bench and go to Wallend. I chop his right thumb off. Now Wallend screams.

“Painful, isn't it?” I say. “How's your healing?”

He's shaking again, worse now. Blood running across the desktop.

“You're not good at healing. What
are
you good at, Wallend? Just chopping people up?”

He looks at me, terrified, then turns away and is sick on the floor.

“You ever get sick when you're cutting up other people, Wallend?”

He doesn't reply, just shakes, which I think is a no.

“So, where are the witch's bottles that you use to make the Hunters invisible? That's how you do it, isn't it? With bottles?”

He nods.

“So?” I ask. “Or are you going to let me take the other thumb?” I smile at him.

He stares. “They'll kill you. Slowly, if I have anything—”

I take his other thumb off and he makes a strange choking cry.

“You want to move to ears and nose next?” I ask. “Or eyes?”

“In the next room! In the next room!”

And I glance over to where he's looking, to another small metal door between the benches.

I pull the Fairborn out of Wallend's hand and then the scalpel, and push him to the door. He's weak and quivering but he goes.

“Open it.” I could use Mercury's pin but I need to see if he'll do what I say.

“I can't. My hands . . .” he says, holding them out and staring as if what's happened to them is only now registering.

I open the door. Wallend begins to collapse—it's definitely only hitting him now that he isn't ever going to be able to turn a doorknob again. I push him through into the next room and he crumples into a heap on the floor. And I just stand and stare.