Soul Fire (31 page)

‘I don’t know, Meggie. I’ll try to warn you before . . . something happens, but it might not be possible.’

She nods. ‘I understand. This is hard for you too. Harder, even, because you’re the one responsible . . .’ her voice breaks, and this time she lets me wrap my arms around her,
burying my head in her golden hair.

What the hell?

I’m somewhere else. Not the Beach, not with Meggie. And even though my eyes are closed, I can
see
.

Black gloves. A blue-white flash of light . . . no, not light. Something else.

I open my eyes again. Meggie’s backing away. The image disappears.

‘What’s wrong, Florrie?’

‘I saw something when we touched. Like a photograph.’

My sister frowns. ‘
What
did you see?’

What the hell was it? I know one thing: it scared me.

‘Ali? Ali!’

Another voice, a man’s, is calling out behind me. I blink, look up from the laptop and see Lewis over by the shop, tapping his watch. ‘We need to get to the gate,’ he shouts
over at me. ‘They’ve already called boarding time.’

‘Meggie. I’ll be back soon. Tell Danny I . . . love him,’ I whisper, even though I blush because I’m having to send the message second-hand. ‘I’ll work it
out. I’ll work all of it out. Give me time.’

And I close the Beach down, log out of my email, pull my headphones out. I’m about to close the laptop lid when I realise the images of Meggie that Lewis was unencrypting have now
opened.

The first shows an extreme close up of her eyes. They’re a sludgier, darker blue-grey than I remember, but that’s probably the Beach playing tricks by making them look a prettier
baby-blue than they ever were in real life.

The eyes in the photo don’t show fear, but they do show wariness. Something was wrong, and she knew it.

‘ALICE! Come on, we’ll miss the plane,’ Lewis calls.

I close that window, but a second photo appears behind it. It’s another shot of her face, but less close up than the first one.

No. It’s not possible!

Those eyes. That girl in the picture. It’s not Meggie at all.

It’s me
.

By the time we get to the gate, almost everyone else is on board. Ade and Cara are way ahead in the queue and Sahara must be on board already. I climb the steps to the plane,
the sun merciless on my back. It makes the tiny burns from last night smart again.

I stumble on the steps. My legs aren’t working properly. Lewis takes my hand and helps me into the cabin.

‘Almost home,’ he says.

The killer has been following me
.

The plane’s almost full. Lewis is directed into the first free seat by an impatient flight attendant. Ade’s in the aisle near the front. Cara’s right behind him. I keep walking
along the aisle, hanging on to the tops of the seats because I feel unsteady.

‘Alice! I’ve saved you a place!’

Sahara is waving from the centre emergency exit row. She pats the aisle seat. ‘I’ll buy you a Danish pastry, too. I’ve saved just enough euros for a treat on the way
home.’

I stare at her. It has to be her. Where did she take that picture of me? And why?

She’s reaching out for me, her long fingers grasping at the already stale cabin air.

There’s something about the shape of her hand.

I blink, and I see the image I saw when I hugged my sister. Those gloves again. Leather. Driving gloves.
Or the kind you’d wear on a motorbike
.

And I realise the flash of light wasn’t light at all. It was pale, white fabric. A pillowcase.

‘Alice. You’re holding up the flight now. Come on, sit down. We’ll soon be home. It’ll all be over.’

I stumble into the seat, bashing my leg against the arm rest. I can’t seem to do up my seatbelt and Sahara leans over to do it for me, like a mother helping her child.

The flash was the pillow coming down onto my sister’s face
. Probably the last thing she ever saw.

‘That’s better,’ Sahara trills. ‘The captain said earlier there might be a few bumps on the way back, due to turbulence. But now you’re all safely strapped
in.’

Meggie.

Tim.

Zoe.

When will it stop? Am I the end of the line?

I turn to face Sahara, and she’s smiling – and so close in these budget airline seats. She’s been desperate to get close to me ever since we lost Meggie, and now she’s
managed it. Even if it does seem to be by eliminating everyone else close to me. ‘Thanks, Sahara. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

She beams back at me and I try not to shudder. I know this is more dangerous than anything I’ve done before, but it’s the only way.

To catch the predator, I must become the prey.

When I first heard Meggie sing, it almost made me believe in heaven.

’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

And grace my fears reliev’d;

How precious did that grace appear

The hour I first believ’d!’

She made the words of that old hymn so convincing, yet now, somehow, the lyric only works if I substitute Alice for grace . . . I believe in Alice, and the idea of a world
without her terrifies me.

As time passes, I realise being unmasked is not the most frightening outcome. What scares me most is anonymity. A time when no one cares about the things I’ve done, when
even Alice has moments when she forgets.

The pace is increasing. I know what I have to do to make Alice believe, and I know the time cannot come too soon. She seems almost as impatient as I am.

Also by Kate Harrison

Acknowledgements

Soul Fire
has been edge-of-the-seat stuff – not just for Alice, but for me too.

First and foremost, I have to thank Jenny and especially Amber for helping me to navigate through a challenging maze of deadly secrets, red-hot fire runs and dark gothic alleyways. You’re
so much better at seeing the (flaming torch) light at the end of the tunnel. I am in awe.

Thanks so much to Nina – top girl and top Twitter guru too – for organising such brilliant publicity for the first book – and to Louise for coming with me to the fab Eternal
Twilight.

The team at Orion make up a constellation of superstars. It’s been amazing to have Lisa and Fiona championing the book so strongly from the start, Pandora making the audio version so
terrific, and Jen, Kate, Louise and Mark doing such a great job to raise awareness online and in the ‘real’ world.

I’d like to say a special thank-you to the amazing bloggers who work so hard to get books talked about: Amanda from Floor to Ceiling Books, Carly at Writing from the Tub, Emma at Book
Angel’s Booktopia, Jenny at Wondrous Reads, Karen at Reading Teenage Fiction, Liz, Mark and Sarah at My Favourite Books, Rhiana at Heaven, Hell (now Cosy Books), SJH at A Dream of Books and
Viv at Serendipity Reviews. Apologies if I’ve left anyone off, and tell me for next time!

Hello to so many people who’ve let me know via Twitter who
they
think killed Meggie. Some of you might just be right . . .

Philippa at LAW is a true book babe, endlessly supportive
and
so smart, and Holly makes everything feel fantastically effortless.

My writing friends are such excellent company that I daren’t single anyone out. Mwah, darlings, you’re all
wonderful
. But it’s been great to discover the adventures to
be had in the children’s book world with SCBWI and SAS folks . . . as always, the Board is always a highlight of my day.

The Barça gang helped me survive the ordeal by fire that is the Correfoc – cheers, amigos. Special thanks to Matt and Tina for inspiring us to experience Catalan living in the first
place.

A distracted writer isn’t always the easiest mate, sister, daughter or girlfriend. So lots of love to Geri and Jenny, Toni, Mum and Dad and Rich for accepting my vagueness.

Last but definitely not least, thanks to
you
for coming on the journey with me to Soul Beach. I’d love to know what you think – you can get in touch with me via my website, www.kate-harrison.com or I’m @katewritesbooks on Twitter.

Kate xx

Brighton, 2012

Copyright

AN INDIGO EBOOK

First published in Great Britain in 2012 by Indigo.
This eBook first published in 2012 by Indigo.
Copyright © Kate Harrison 2012

The right of Kate Harrison to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patents act 1988.

All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in
writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed
on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978 1 78062 146 3

Indigo
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper St Martin’s Lane
London WC2H 9EA

An Hachette UK company

www.orionbooks.co.uk