New Reality 2: Justice (23 page)

"Well, they have no money, so why are they spending their cash on bowling?"

"If a business is run by people from the estate, like the Bowlplex is, then they don't charge other people from the estate to use it."

"How do they make money then?"

"A lot of those places don't pay rent. They take over buildings in undesirable areas. If they're occupied, at least they look nicer for us on the other side of the road. The people that work there only get paid if legitimate customers show up. That's why it's so dark in there. They don't want to pay for things like electricity."

"So that's why you tipped the woman?"

"No, I would have done that anyway. I can afford to eat and a lot of them can't. I want to try and share that privilege whenever I can."

The ‘good hardworking’ citizens on the other side of the road went about their day. Not a single one of them looked over. "GG?"

"Yep?"

"What does it stand for?"

"What?"

"GG."

"Gina. Well, actually, Georgina, but I hate that even more than I hate Gina."

"I like Gina. It makes you sound–"

"Less like a horse?"

Marie laughed. "I wasn't going to say
that
…" She then reached over and lifted GG's blonde ponytail before letting it drop back down again. "But now that you mention it…"

While she was being mocked, GG had been watching the road. She then grabbed Marie's arm and led her across.

Suddenly the people on the other side noticed the pair and directed hard stares at them. They must have thought GG and Marie were from the estate. Marie stared back but bit her tongue. 'What are you looking at?' probably wouldn't have gone down too well at that point. Apparently, her look was enough, because the hostility soon vanished.
Fucking arseholes
.

As the two women walked, taking their time in a world where everyone else seemed to be racing towards a heart attack, Marie said, "Why aren't you in a relationship, Gina?"

"I dunno; the right person has never come along, I suppose."

"But you must have hundreds of men waiting to date you. There must be someone that's right for you?"

"Not really."

It was strange to see GG put barriers up. She was normally so open with her feelings. "Has there ever been anyone?"

"Yes, once." Gina's tone was flat.

"The guy who got you pregnant?"

"Urgh.
No.
He was a
total
mistake… a
horrible
mistake. It was someone else. Someone I met at school. Over the years we became the best of friends."

"So what happened?"

"My feelings weren't reciprocated. It broke my heart. I've not let anyone else in since."

"But you're one of the most open people I've met."

"It's easier when you don't have to open to someone in that way. I can give you my heart when I don't expect anything in return. It's the wanting to be loved back that makes us weak."

***

An air of sadness hung about the pair and they walked in silence.
 

The atmosphere was finally broken when one of the huge advertising boards on the side of the road was taken over by a newsflash.

"This is Hank Manifesto for
Nirvana TV
, bringing you, the citizens of Nirvana, all of the news as it happens."

Gina groaned.

The cars and every pedestrian slowed to a halt. In Nirvana, the newsflash was like a call to prayer; everything else needed to be abandoned until after the event.

When there was a tug on Marie's sleeve, she looked in the direction Gina was pointing. On the other side of the road, walking with the aid of a stick was an old lady.
 

Marie whispered beneath her breath. "Why hasn't she stopped?"

When one of the other people from the estate grabbed the woman's arm and pointed up at the screen, the lady shook her head and continued walking.

Marie's stomach tightened. "What's she doing?"

"Rebelling, by the look of things," GG said.

A policeman's whistle sent a shrill peep through the air. Five officers ran across the road and the leading officer blew his whistle again. "You, woman, stop and watch the screen now!"

It was like the man wasn't there. The old woman completely disregarded him and she continued walking.

The next blow of the whistle was so loud, it hurt Marie's ears; God knows what it did to the people standing right next to it.
 

"I said
stop!
" The officer stood a metre in front of her with his hand raised, but the woman paid him no heed.

The old girl knew what she was doing, that was for sure. After what must have been a lifetime of living as a second-class citizen, maybe she was taking some power back.
Good luck to her
. Marie couldn't shake the sinking feeling of dread.
How could this end any other way but badly?
 

The officer leaned close to her and blew his whistle again. "Stop!"

A serene smile lit up her wrinkled face as if the police were amusing to her. She continued walking, weaving through the five officers as if they were no more than an obstruction on the path.
 

Red-faced and tightly wound, the officer looked around.
 

Someone laughed. It was another woman from the estate.
 

When the officer stepped towards her, someone else laughed.
 

Then someone else.

Before long, most of the people on the other side of the road were laughing and jeering at the officers. One by one, they made a fist with their hands, bumped their chest twice and held it in the air.
 

Hank Manifesto's voice barely registered as Marie watched the display. "I thought you said that meant thank you?"

"Okay," GG said, "
maybe
I lied."
 

Marie looked at GG, waiting for an explanation.

"It means change."

Hairs stood up on the back of Marie's arms. The revolution had to come sooner or later. That was what happened with societies; they failed.
 

With a flapping mouth, the officer spun full circle but no words came out. It was hard not to smile at him losing control.
 

When he raised his baton and stared at the old woman, dread ran through Marie. "No way. She's like ninety. What the fuck's he playing at?"

Before the officer could act, the people from the estate closed in around him.

At first, he looked at his men, and then the people on the other side of the road. He then threw his arms up in the air. "Are you going to allow this?"

No one on Marie's side of the road responded. Why would they? They weren't there to enforce the law.

Although the officer waved his baton, the people from the estate closed in tighter, every one of them holding their clenched fist high.
 

After pushing a few people away from him, the officer appealed to Marie's side of the road again. "Can you see what this is? This is a revolt. If you stand by and watch this happen, it won't be long before these plebeians are taking your
jobs
, your
houses
, your
lives.
"

Still no one moved.
 

Gina leaned close to Marie. "They spend the entire time trying to make us fearful of those from the estate, and now they ask for help fighting them?" She shook her head. "They're on another fucking planet."
 

The circle of people from the estate tightened to the point where Marie lost sight of the officers. The tension in the air was palpable, and Hank Manifesto was no more than a background noise on the huge screen.

An eerie stillness swept over everyone. Above it rose the gentle tick of the old woman's walking stick tapping the pavement—a quiet but resolute sound of rebellion.

A baton then appeared above the crowd and Marie nearly vomited in anticipation of the—
 

Crack!

The old woman's cane clattered to the pavement.

With her hand clamped over her mouth, Marie watched the old lady fall.

Suddenly the leading officer was easy to see again as even his colleagues moved away from him. No one was backing him up after what he'd just done.
 

Surrounded by silent accusation, he jabbed his finger at those staring at him. "This is all
your
fault. You laugh at us. You question our authority." He kicked the old woman in the face and her neck snapped back. The man was frantic as he swept his hair from his eyes. "Well, here it is. This is what happens when you
challenge the law."

The people from the estate closed in again. The sounds of dissent rose from what started as a gentle murmur and grew progressively louder. Some of them were staring at the officer with their fists clenched tightly and looked ready to strike.
 

"They're going to kill him," Marie said.

But before things could escalate, the officers elbowed their way free of the crowd and crossed the road at a trot. Not a single one of them looked back.

"Fucking cowards, the
lot
of them," Marie said.

A man next to Marie stared at her.
 

"What?" she said. "They
are.
She's an old woman."

The man backed away; just being in the vicinity of someone as outspoken as her was risky.
 

The old woman lay lifeless on the pavement, her mouth open in a silent scream and a pool of blood clogging her grey hair.

The broadcast had finished, how long ago Marie wasn't sure, but once the officers were back on the other side of the road, the traffic started moving again.
 

As the officers strode towards them, Marie copied those around her and dropped her gaze while the pounding of thick boots stomped past. The regimented march carried the stench of stale sweat with it. They stank of fear. They'd lost face.

When they were out of earshot, Marie said, "It's getting worse. Tensions are running higher than ever."

Gina stared at the dead woman on the other side of the road. "The people aren't taking it anymore. Change is coming. Change is definitely coming."

Chapter Thirty-Five

Home at last!
As she stood before the door to her flat, Marie rubbed her sticky face and paused for a moment. The day had been intense—the old woman, the people from the estate. Gina was right; change was coming. But she had to snap out of it and leave the evening's events behind her. It wouldn't do any good to tell Frankie about them.
 

A deep breath and she pressed her thumb against the print scanner on her door. The second the door popped open, she forced a smile. It felt awkward, but she pushed through it and threw the door wide as she stepped into the flat. "Hi, darling, I'm home."

The flat was still.
 

The lights were off.
 

Clap! Clap!

The flat lit up, each room illuminating one by one, moving away from Marie. It was silent.
 

"Frankie?"

The
whoosh
of the vacuum cleaner starting up made Marie jump. With a hand to her chest, she watched the small disc come to life as it glided across the hard floor. Once it hit the skirting board, it bounced off in a different direction. "Fucking thing."

The bedroom door at the end of the hallway was closed.
Was he asleep already?
"Frankie?"

Still she heard nothing; maybe he was sleeping.

Marie slipped her shoes off, her hot and clammy feet taking some comfort from the cool floor as she walked down the hallway. The gentle padding of her footsteps was the only sound in the place.

The bedroom door creaked when she pushed it open. The bed was still made.
Where the hell was he?

The front room was also empty.
 

She clapped her hands and the television came to life. The program—a show about antiques—although utter garbage, was better than the silence. The last thing she needed was silence. Anything that derailed her chaotic train of thought was a good thing at the moment.

It was obvious Frankie wasn't there. It's not like he'd be hiding somewhere, waiting to jump out on her. That didn't stop her checking the kitchen though. "Frankie?"
 

It was empty like the other rooms.
 

For a second, Marie watched the phone on the kitchen work surface. "Fuck it." She picked it up and called Frankie's cell phone. Every phone conversation in Nirvana was monitored, but she had to know where he was.

It went straight to voicemail.
 

Once she'd hung up, she placed the phone back in its cradle and rubbed her bump. "Well, it looks like it's just you and me, baby. Maybe we should cook some dinner for when Daddy comes home?"

There was a slight shift in her stomach.

"You agree? Right, oven!"

The light came on in the oven and the fan whirred to life.

"Can I have two chicken Kiev’s, roast potatoes, and roasted parsnips?"

A series of ones and zeros flashed across the oven's screen. Marie then turned to the coffee machine. "You could learn a thing or two from the oven's compliance, you know?"

"This again?" the posh English-accented machine replied. "It's rather unflattering when you insult me. It's
so
uncouth."

Who programmed the coffee machine to be such an arsehole?
"This is
exactly
what I mean. The oven wouldn't answer back."

If the coffee machine were capable of it, it would have sighed at that moment—although if it were capable of that, Marie would have taken a hammer to its black plastic casing months ago. There was only so much she could take from the precocious little shit. Instead, it asked, "Would you like coffee?"

Why did she even start a conversation with it? How many times did she have to tell the stupid thing that she was off coffee?
After staring at the large kitchen window, Marie looked back at the coffee machine.
How hard would she have to launch it to drive it through the window?
The fall would surely destroy the stupid thing.