Shimmer: The Rephaim Book 3 (20 page)

‘Of course it’s not,’ Zak says. ‘I’m ready to raze that place flat but Rafa and Taya won’t be inside when it happens.’

I nod, but my hands are still shaking. I flex my fingers, try to force out the tension. Maria is giving me a filthy look and it takes me a moment to realise I’ve been swearing under my breath.

‘Oh. Sorry.’

Dani manages a small smile. ‘I’ve heard worse.’ Of course she has. She’s seen Rafa with demons.

I sit down again. My pulse is slowing but my chest burns from the burst of adrenaline.

‘What are you thinking, Mal?’ Zak asks.

Malachi drags his fingers through his hair. ‘I want to rip every limb from Bel’s putrid body and build a bonfire with them.’

‘Count me in.’ Zak holds out his fist. Malachi bumps it without hesitation. ‘What now?’

Everyone looks to me.

‘We’re going in.’

Daisy shifts position in the doorway. ‘You’re going to disobey Nathaniel?’

‘Yes.’

She clenches her jaw. I know how hard the idea is for her, no matter how high the stakes. She left me alone in a cage with a hellion because Daniel ordered her to. She’s not afraid of much, but bringing on the wrath of Nathaniel and the Five is high on the list.

‘Daisy,’ Jude says. ‘We can obey Nathaniel and hope Taya and Rafa are still in one piece by the time he hears from the Garrison—
if
he hears from them. Or we can go in now and wear the consequences. Worst-case scenario, we all end up dead. Best case, we get them back and hope that’s enough to placate Nathaniel. What’s that old saying? It’s easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.’

‘I’m in,’ Zak says.

‘Me too,’ Malachi says, and then to Daisy: ‘You saw Taya’s finger. You know that’s not where it will end. We don’t have time to wait.’

‘We should at least tell Nathaniel they’re still alive,’ Daisy says.

‘You can’t tell him Rafa’s willing to sacrifice himself and Taya to keep the rest of us safe.’ The thought of him making that decision…it’s like someone’s scraping out my heart with a butter knife.

‘I won’t.’

‘I mean it, Daisy.’

‘Seriously, I won’t. Just that they’re alive.’

Malachi rubs a knuckle along his jaw. ‘You know Nathaniel won’t do anything until he gets whatever sign he’s waiting on, no matter what you tell him.’

‘We still have to give him the chance. Maybe he’s found out something about the room from Virginia. Maybe that will count as a sign. And anyway, you still need to know how to get in and out if you don’t want to end up in there with them.’

‘Daisy’s right. How did you get in last time?’

‘We used a ram,’ Zak says. ‘But it took about twenty hits to disengage the lock. We won’t have that much time.’

Jude picks up his katana, absently checks the blade in the dull afternoon light. ‘Where was the keypad?’

‘I didn’t see it,’ Jason says. ‘Sophie shut the door when I was on my way over there.’ He rubs the back of his neck. ‘She wouldn’t tell me how to open it, and I didn’t push her because she was terrified. She was still on the far side of the room, so it had to have been done remotely.’

Jude nods. ‘The architect will know.’

‘Let’s say we find a way to get Taya and Rafa out,’ Malachi says. ‘How are we going to destroy the place afterwards?’

I notice he says ‘we’. Malachi’s signing on for more than a rescue attempt.

‘The Butlers have plenty of fire power,’ Zak says. ‘That rocket launcher would do some serious damage.’

‘Do you know how to use one?’

‘No. But we know a couple of lads who do.’

I shake my head. ‘You can’t go back to that camp. Zarael will have Gatekeepers sweeping through Pan Beach waiting for us to make a move.’

‘I know where the launcher is. All I need is to find out where the rockets are. Me and Ez will be in and out in less than five seconds.’

I check with Ez. She nods. And like that, my skin is warm again. Buzzing. We have a plan. ‘Mags, what time is it in Pan Beach?’

Maggie checks her watch. ‘Nearly two in the morning.’

‘At least it’s dark.’

Ez picks up an empty cup on the bedside table. ‘You must be hungry,’ she says to Dani. And then to Zak: ‘Give me a couple of minutes to organise something for Dani and Maria to eat.’

‘Someone else can do that,’ Zak says.

‘I realise that, but I’d like to.’

He nods, understanding. ‘I’ll meet you in the infirmary.’

Maria helps Dani up from the floor. ‘Come on, sweetie, go and wash your face.’ She waits until the water is running in the bathroom. ‘When is this going to be over for us?’

‘When Rafa and Taya are safe,’ I say.

Maria keeps her hand on the doorknob. ‘She won’t go until you tell her you don’t need her anymore. She doesn’t want to let you down after—’ The tap turns off and Maria stops.

‘It means a lot, you being here.’

‘That means nothing if she’s in danger.’

Jude pats Zak on the shoulder. ‘Right then. Let’s have a chat with our munitions experts.’

‘You’re not touching my weapons.’

‘You make it sound so dirty,’ Jude says.

Mick pulls on a pair of jeans one-handed. They’re not a great fit. Mick’s stocky, and these belong to someone with a slightly longer leg. He winces with each movement but refuses to let anyone help him.

Simon is hugging Maggie with one arm. She sniffs at the poultice between them, screws up her nose, kisses his cheek again. The circles under his eyes are darker, like slow-spreading bruises. A pencil and sketchbook lie abandoned on the bed; Maggie tries to see the drawing but Simon leans over and closes it. The rest of Mick’s guys are on their beds, watching us.

‘Do you know how hard it was to get my hands on that launcher?’ Mick says, panting as he struggles with the zipper.

‘I don’t want you to give it to me, Mick, I want to borrow it.’

‘To do what?’

Jude glances at Jones, who takes yet another quick look into the treatment room, nods that Brother Ferro is out of earshot. ‘Once we’ve got Rafa and Taya clear, we’re going to blow the shit out of that farmhouse.’

‘Not without me you’re not.’

Mick doesn’t have an issue with the blowing-up part, just with being excluded from the action. No surprises there, really. He bends to put on his boots and Rusty steadies him. The younger Butler is showered and wearing grass-stained jeans, traces of colour back in his bearded face. He fiddles with the bandage on his chest.

‘Nobody touches our stuff but us,’ he says.

‘Remember the demons who killed your mates?’ I say carefully. ‘There are maybe fifty of them at that farmhouse. Probably hellions too.’

‘Perfect,’ Mick says. ‘We’ll blast all those fuckers back to hell.’

‘Wake up, Mick,’ Simon says. ‘How many more guys you want to lose?’

‘Just because you left your balls back in town doesn’t mean we’re ready to bend over for these pricks,’ Mick says.

Zak steps closer, towers over Mick. ‘Who are you calling a prick?’

Mick glares up at him. He’s a like a pit bull; not much intimidates him. ‘Not you, sunshine, the cocksuckers who did this to us.’

‘We’ll get the hardware, then we’ll discuss who is and isn’t blowing up shit,’ Zak says.

Jude raises his eyebrows at him and Zak shrugs.

‘We might need a hand. Especially if it’s just us and not a whole army.’

Simon repositions himself on his bed. ‘Any news?’ He doesn’t ask anyone in particular but his eyes find me.

He doesn’t know. How could he?

‘Zarael delivered Taya’s finger half an hour ago,’ Malachi says, his voice flat.

‘Is she—’

‘She’s alive,’ I say quickly. ‘So is Rafa, and we plan on keeping it that way. That’s why we’re here.’

Simon focuses to my right, goes somewhere else for a moment, and then squeezes Maggie’s shoulder. ‘Can you ask Jason to take us home?’

‘Yeah,’ Mick says. ‘I’m over this greaseball food. Hasn’t anybody heard of a bloody T-bone in this country?’

‘Simon,’ Maggie says gently, ‘we can’t go home, not yet.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it’s not safe in Pan Beach for us.’ She gestures to Mick and Rusty, Woosha and Joffa, the other guys in the ward; to Simon and herself: the only people in Pan Beach who know about the Rephaim and the Gatekeepers.

‘What about the rest of the town? Who’s protecting them?’

‘Nobody else in town matters to them,’ Zak says.

‘What if that changes?’

‘Then we’ll deal with it. Right now, we’ve got enough on our hands.’

Maggie rubs Simon’s arm. ‘It’s okay.’

‘It’s not okay, Mags. It’s a frigging mess and we shouldn’t be in the middle of it.
You
shouldn’t be in the middle of it.’ His eyes flick to me, his meaning clear: this is my mess and I’m the only one who should be tangled in it. And I get it. He and Maggie have been friends since kindergarten. I’m just the backpacker who blew into town nine months ago and turned out to be more trouble than I’m worth.

‘So.’ Mick looks like he’s decided to lift the mood. ‘You want standard RPG rounds or armour-piercing?’

Zak and Jude glance at each other and say, simultaneously: ‘Armour-piercing.’

Mick hassles Simon for his pencil and a piece of paper. He scribbles out a mud map of the camp and where to find what Zak needs. Malachi offers to go with him.

‘You sure?’

‘No, but I can’t sit here doing nothing.’

They grab wrists and disappear.

I sit on a spare bed without making eye contact with Simon. Jude joins me. Maggie finally gets her hands on the sketchbook. She studies Simon’s drawing for a moment and then holds it around for us to see. It’s the stretch of sand north of Pan Beach, where the headland meets the water. Simon might be a dud at drawing crude maps but he has some skill when it comes to something with more texture.

‘That’s really good,’ I say.

Simon shrugs but takes the compliment.

‘Have you guys always lived in Pan Beach?’ Jude asks.

Maggie nods. ‘Simon, Rusty and I were in the same class all through school. Mick and his mates were two grades above us.’

‘You guys surf much?’

‘Nah, mate,’ Mick says, dropping into a metal chair by Rusty’s bed. ‘Not all of us are board jockeys. Place is crawling with ’em these days. Bloody surfers and backpackers and rich pricks with more money than brains. The Imperial’s the only place left in town that’s not full of wankers.’

‘I assume anyone who doesn’t drink at your pub is a wanker?’

‘Bang on.’

‘So it’s more of a philosophical choice to avoid the beach than any aversion to sand?’

Mick narrows his eyes. ‘You and your sister think you’re fucking clever, don’t you?’

I bump my knee against Jude’s. ‘Don’t rattle his cage too hard. He’s actually sharper than he looks.’

‘Fuck you,’ Mick says, but I think I catch a shadow of a smirk under his half-beard.

‘Maybe you should come down to Rick’s one weekend,’ Maggie says to Mick.

‘What, and drink that imported shit he keeps on tap?’

Simon gives a short laugh. ‘I think Rick’s happy with the current arrangements as well.’

I think about turquoise water rolling onto the beach, set after set. The palms along the boardwalk and how they shake when the breeze picks up. The stillness of the rainforest. The ancient fig trees that blot out the light. The smell of fish and chips and sunblock on the esplanade.

‘You’re coming back, aren’t you?’ Maggie asks me. ‘When this is all over, you’re coming home?’

I almost look to Jude but stop myself, afraid of what I might see. The brother I remember—the one from my fake life—wouldn’t hesitate to hang out in Pan Beach. But the real Jude, the one beside me, may not want to go back to a surfer lifestyle when this is over. He might want to try on his old life with the Outcasts for a while.

‘That’s the plan.’ I force a smile. It’s probably impossible—hell, I might not even be alive—but right now I need the promise of something real.

Maggie sees my doubt and opens her mouth to say something else, when Zak and Malachi materialise, almost on the exact spot where they left. Maggie and Simon flinch, bump shoulders. Zak has the launcher and Malachi carries a tube-like bag, straining at the handles. He puts it on the end of Simon’s bed and the mattress sags. ‘Man,’ Rusty says to Zak, ‘that teleporting thing…that’s fucking mind-blowing.’

Mick’s more interested in the bag than the fact the Rephaim can defy the laws of physics. ‘Let me see.’ He hobbles over, pops the studs at one end of the bag and pulls out a rocket. ‘These two are all I’ve got left, so we better make ’em count.’

‘Left?’ Simon says. ‘What did you do with the rest?’

The brothers grin at each other. ‘Had some fun up the mountain during the big thunderstorms before Christmas.’

‘Yeah.’ Woosha lifts himself up on his elbows in bed. ‘We nearly turned the western gully into a gravel quarry.’

The main doors to the infirmary open and close, footsteps echo on the lino floor. Mick shoves the rocket back in the bag and Zak hides the launcher behind his back.

It’s Ez. She looks from Zak to Mick, raises her eyebrows. ‘You went without me.’

Zak smiles, guilty. ‘Mal had my back.’

She turns to Malachi. ‘You want to be careful, I might start to like you again.’

‘Keep dreaming,’ he says.

Ez’s phone vibrates. ‘It’s Mya,’ she says. ‘She’s back.’

*

We meet her in the gym, along with the rest of the Outcasts. The dank cocktail of sweat, sawdust and centuries-old mortar still permeates the place. Mick and Rusty are with us, carrying their small arsenal between them. Mya is in the middle of the practice mats and waits for us to reach her and the others before she speaks. Maggie is back upstairs, safe with Maria and Dani. Jason’s ready to shift with them at the first sign of trouble.

‘I can get around the lock on the door.’ Mya pulls a small pair of pliers from her back pocket. ‘I know where the keypad is.’

‘We won’t have time,’ I say. ‘We need the code.’

‘Debra doesn’t know it.’

‘She’s lying.’

‘She says Louise was the only one who knew.’

‘Who’s Louise?’

‘Virginia’s other daughter—Sophie’s mother. They’d never locked the room before. They weren’t intending to use it anytime soon.’