The Three Most Wanted Page 9

  “Might save you from having to choose between your life and your conscience somewhere down the line.”

  “Yeah, but... perhaps some people standing up to them on the inside is what’s needed. ‘Cept they’ve got such a fatal way of dealing with opposition—inside or outside... I don’t know. I s’pose I’m glad we’ve got so long to think about it.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  She grinned, brightening. “This feels right, though—helping you guys. We’ll get you all the way to Rome, see if we don’t!”

  I grinned back, then asked, “So how did you and Juwan... you know?”

  She lit up even more. “He moved to our town from Paris when we were twelve. I thought he was the most handsome guy I’d ever seen the first time I set eyes on him. Didn’t tell anyone, of course. For several years I was kind of afraid to get to know him. I s’pose... you see why?”

  I nodded. Liking someone you knew you could never have—if you’d even the smallest scrap of self-preservation, you’d try to keep your distance.

  “Anyway, he hit it off really well with Piers, and they became best mates. I knew Piers too, so I hung out with Juwan now and then—tried really hard to think of him as a friend, y’know? When I was fifteen it started to get harder, somehow. I even decided I wasn’t going to be around him any more at all—but I s’pose it was too late. We saw more and more of each other, like neither of us could help it. And then one day when we were seventeen there was just this moment when I couldn’t bear it any more. And I kissed him. And he kissed me.” Her smile had gone rather dreamy at the memory.

  “And then he was like, are you sure, are you sure, for about three months. And even after that he absolutely insisted we keep it secret. He couldn’t bear how people would treat me. I wasn’t too thrilled at the thought of how they’d treat him either. Piers and Louis know—knew—and my best friend, but that’s it in the whole world, other than you and Bane and Jon now.”

  “Well, I’m happy for you. Though I just wish... the world was different.” It was bad enough the way some people treated Bane, his parents included, just because his skin was a little too dark for British C...

  She nodded silently, but after a few moments, she burst out, “If Juwan and I stay out of the Resistance, what sort of life will we have? Well, we know, don’t we!”

  I knew of such matches, even if I’d never actually seen one. Because they were unable to register with one another, when they turned thirty, the Stable Population Committee would match them with another unregistered person from their local area and demand they produce the regulation two children. They could split the kids with their assigned breeding partner, taking one each, so they’d end up with two to raise—neither the child of both of them. Wherever they went as a family, people would stare, mutter, perhaps even spit at them. The children would face a living hell at school—one black, one white, claiming to be siblings—an irresistible target for bullies... But...

  “The Resistance hate the EuroGov, but that doesn’t mean they’re not just as bigoted as some of the rest of the population. I wouldn’t assume you’ll have an easier time of it with them.”

  “But the whole thing about no Genetic Mixes was started by the EGD! It’s a major EuroGov policy! Before it started people registered with whoever they wanted, like they still do in Africa, and it did no harm at all. Surely the Resistance wouldn’t care!”

  “Bullies just want targets, and I think there are a lot of bullies in the Resistance. Why don’t you just go to Africa? You’ve passed Sorting. You’re free to travel.”

  “Because it’s not right!” Doms’s eyes were fierce, but they filled with tears as she went on, “Don’t you understand what we’d have to give up? My family would never speak to me again. And Juwan should inherit the family business one day, but they’d cut him off if they knew about us. And... it shouldn’t be like this!”

  “Won’t they do that anyway if you... live together... here? Sooner or later, if you want to raise children... you’ll have to go public.”

  “Juwan doesn’t even want children any more. Not after... Piers.”

  “If he stays here, they won’t give him a choice, will they?”

  “I don’t know.” Doms’ face went bleak. “I’m rather afraid... I’m afraid he thinks if we join the Resistance... by the time we’re thirty we’ll be compromised and living in a safe house anyway, so it won’t come up. Which... doesn’t seem like a terribly good solution to me.”

  “Heavens, no! Well, it’s none of my business, but for what it’s worth, I vote for Africa. You can live a long happy life as a normal family, without making a mess of your conscience.”

  “Not by killing, maybe,” said Doms. “But I’m not sure what it will do to my conscience to sally off to Africa and leave this wrong unfought.”

  I didn’t have an answer to that.

  Another day brought us all to Commercy, where we needed to resupply. The others hadn’t dared fill the food bags too full at Clermont in case someone remarked on it.

  “Not like we need to eat old food, anyway,” said Doms cheerfully as she put her sleeping bag in her pack. “We might as well enjoy fresh as often as we can.”

  “You always look fresh to me,” said Juwan, pulling her to him for a lengthy kiss.

  Louis stuffed the last of his sleeping bag into his own pack with unnecessary vigor. Not just their parents who wanted him and Doms together, was it?

  With murmurs of “Je t’aime,” Juwan and Doms broke apart again.

  “Any special requests?” asked Doms.

  “Yeah, don’t get caught,” said Bane.

  “Relax, no one is going to suspect us of anything.”

  “Our IDs are clean, and we won’t buy too much. It’ll be fine,” said Juwan. “See you in a couple of hours. Oh, here, you can borrow this again...”

  He gave his phone to Bane, they shouldered their packs and headed off.

  I relieved Bane of the phone and began to scan through the last few copies of FrenchDaily. Nothing...

  “Y’know, I really don’t think they’re going to print it,” said Bane.

  “They probably got their knuckles rapped by the EuroGov over the last one,” added Jon.

  I resisted the temptation to throw down the phone in disgust and simply handed it back to Bane.

  “It’s not going to help, anyway,” said Jon.

  “I know,” I sighed. “It’d just be nice if something undermined their crooked little trial.”

  Sometime after noon, I stuffed my bookReader back in my pocket and checked my watch. I couldn’t concentrate. “So how far is it to Commercy from here, Bane?” I tried to speak casually, but the others had been gone four hours, which was an hour longer than last time.

  Bane pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen, though he probably didn’t need to. He had the map up already: he was getting worried too. “Less than five kilometers.”

  “Where are they?”

  “It was a harder walk to Clermont,” Bane admitted.

  “So where are they?” Jon echoed me.

  “Perhaps they’re just more relaxed this time,” I suggested. “Taking their time more...”

  “Perhaps,” said Bane. Still frowning. After a moment he double-checked something on his phone—probably the time, because when he pulled out Juwan’s phone he went straight to the TV—he chose the local channel.

  A newsreader was talking. “And the top story—shocking events unfolded this morning in the town of Commercy in the French Department, resulting in two New Adults arrested...”

  “Oh no,” I breathed, gripping Bane’s arm and moving to get a better view of the screen.

  “...and a third held on suspicion of aiding and abetting the fugitive Margaret Verrall and her companions. None of the three have yet been named. The unfolding drama was captured on a shop CCTV camera.”

  Footage of a street took the newsreader’s place, though her voice continued. “We see the three backpackers shopping at street s
talls in Commercy a little before ten AM.”

  Doms, Juwan and Louis, clearly recognizable.

  “We see one go to another stall, then when his two companions aren’t looking, he approaches a nearby policeman.”

  Louis. Louis approaching the policeman. Speaking to him rapidly. Juwan and Doms suddenly missing him and turning…

  “He speaks to the policeman for only a moment before events take a shocking turn...”

  Juwan snatches something solid-looking from beside the stall, crosses the street in practically a single bound and brings it down with devastating force on Louis’s head. Louis falls in a heap like a dropped doll, and Juwan spins around and bolts… The policeman jerks a pistol from his holster and fires. Juwan falls....

  My fingers bit into Bane’s arm. “NonLee?”

  “Can’t see, shss, listen…”

  “The policeman drops the attacker with his nonLethal…”

  “Thank God!” I managed to relax my grip on Bane a little.

  “…and looks for the third New Adult, but she’s disappeared. We now fast forward to fifteen minutes later…”

  The footage sped up, showing two policemen running to and fro, doing first aid on Louis, then standing around the fallen bodies waiting… finally a police van and an ambulance arrived and the footage slowed to real time again as both bodies were lifted onto gurneys, and Louis was wheeled into the ambulance….

  BANG!

  An explosion rocked the vehicles on their wheels, people screamed and dived for cover, though there was no one near the spot from which the flash and the smoke were drifting. The policemen converged, nonLees in hands and a figure darted out behind them, grabbed Juwan’s gurney and started to push it frantically down the nearest alley. The policemen turned, saw her, their guns came up, she fell, the gurney rattled on a few paces and came to a halt. A third gurney was brought, and Doms was slid into the police van along with Juwan.

  “Oh, damn,” I whispered again, as the bulletin ended. “Oh damn, oh damn, oh damn...”

  “That sums it up,” said Jon, in a thin voice.

  “Is there any way we can help them?”

  Bane groaned and stuck his head in his hands. “Margo, no! It’s not possible. They’re gone! This happened hours ago—they’re already at some Facility: we don’t even know which one, and how many months planning did it take to get you lot out? Out of a Standard Facility, not a Detention Facility? With Resistance help. Please, be serious!”

  Jon frowned but didn’t disagree with Bane’s analysis.

  “The only thing we can possibly do for them,” Bane went on, “is get where we’re going and then see if we can arrange help. Professional help.”

  “You’ve got the wrong secret organization, Bane,” said Jon. “The Underground doesn’t keep trained extraction teams.”

  “Well, perhaps it should!”

  “You’ll have to start one.” Bane gave me such an intent look I added, bemused, “Joke.”

  “Was it?” he said thoughtfully. “Anyway, we need to leave, now...”

  Jon froze. Listening. Bane’s hand flew to the phone, killing the sound. I fell silent as well, not that I expected to hear something Jon had to listen so intently for.

  “Dogs,” said Jon. “Coming this way.”

  “Dogs? Walkers?” I asked.

  “Coming very fast if they are.”

  Bane was on his feet so fast I missed it. “Pack up.” He shoved the pile of old food onto the foil blanket on which we sat and bundled it up and into his pack almost before we’d moved off it. We’d put our sleeping bags away already, laudate Dominum—I chucked him the stove, shrugged into my precious coat and went to help Jon. Thermals, sachets, check, check.

  By the time we were done Bane had his jacket on and was fastening his rucksack. I zipped up the tent; paused as loud barking reached my ears. Several dogs. Approaching fast.

  Jon hauled out tent pegs frantically, but Bane sprang to his rucksack and snapped it shut as well. “Leave it, if...” More barking. Coming very fast. “We can come back for it, come on, let’s go, move...”

  Practically flinging the pack onto Jon’s back, he towed him to where I waited by the stream, then dragged us both down the bank. The water almost reached my knees and may have been cold—I didn’t notice, splashing after him with all speed.

  Jon sloshed along in silence as well, and we all clung to each other for balance as our feet slid and slipped on a stony stream bed slimy as oiled glass. The stream wound swiftly into the forest, and the campsite was soon out of sight—and more importantly, we from it. Before long Bane paused. A rocky outcrop plummeted down to the stream on the right.

  “Think we can see the campsite from there?” I said.

  “I should think. Let’s take a look.”

  We skidded and lurched our way up to the rock and climbed up onto the lowest ledge. We’d all read—or been read—the survival books, so right now rock made us think—shows no tracks, retains scent less than soil.

  “Jon, can you stay here with the packs?”

  No time to pretend he could do everything we could do and as quickly.

  Bane and I were starting to climb even as Jon nodded, and soon we peered over the top of the outcrop, panting.

  “Perfect,” breathed Bane. We could see the tents by the stream, most of the clearing unobscured by trees. He rested his phone on the rock, keeping one hand cupped over the top of it to avoid sun glint, and zoomed in. Still deserted. Had we had time to take the tent? The dogs might not even be coming there. Some people did run with their dogs, didn’t they?

  You wish, Margo. I do wish, Lord, I really do. But after that news bulletin I don’t really hope...

  Then my hand closed around Bane’s sleeve as three large dogs bounded into the clearing, noses to the ground, each towing a uniformed soldier behind them.

  We’d not had time for the tent.

  ***+***

  8

  COLD BUT SATISFIED

  “Damn,” hissed Bane.

  “What were you expecting? Chihuahuas?” My voice shook.

  “I know.” More rifle-carrying soldiers jogged into the clearing behind the nothing-like-Chihuahuas and their handlers. “Come on, let’s get away from here. A long way away from here.”

  I fumbled my way back down to Jon, feeling half-numb with shock and fear.

  “What is it?” asked Jon.

  “Soldiers.”

  “Worse, scent hounds,” said Bane tersely. “Juwan must’ve silenced Louis before he could give our location—my God, do we owe him for that! Come on, back into the stream.”

  Jon’s face paled slightly, but showed no surprise, so pausing only long enough to check all the rucksacks were fastened properly, we set off as fast as we could, which wasn’t very. The water was getting deeper. At least the packs were waterproof.

  “Note to self,” Bane muttered savagely after we’d gone some way. “Never trust someone whose first words are about your value, whose next are about how dangerous you are to their health, who looks like they’re about to throw up when dismantling is mentioned, who can muster no more enthusiasm than ‘I suppose so’ and who doesn’t answer when asked if they’re sure.”

  Greedy and scared. Not a good combination.

  “I hope Doms and Juwan have... have a chance,” I muttered.

  Bane was silent for a moment.

  “We can’t do anything.”

  It was almost unbearable to just travel on and leave them to whatever fate awaited them, but Bane was right. We’d three pocket knives and no backup or local knowledge whatsoever. Right now, we’d be lucky to get away ourselves.

  “I hope to goodness Louis realized they’d be in danger and was careful exactly what he said.”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised if he was trying to put it all on Juwan,” said Bane. “Like that will wash. Come on, less talking and more splish-sploshing, huh?”

  We splish-sploshed on until eventually the stream began to curve.

  “Wh
oa a minute,” said Bane, just as my feet slid in different directions for about the tenth time, plunging me up to my neck in icy water. I could feel how cold it was now despite the warm sun—either the adrenalin was wearing off or I was getting chilled. Probably both.

  Bane helped Jon haul me back onto my feet and pulled out his omniPhone. After consulting this for a few moments he jerked his head onwards. “Come on.”

  “But it’s turning to the southwest. We need to keep going southeast.” I’d looked at the map too.

  “No,” said Bane, grim again. “Not now.”

  “They knew we were heading for Zurich, didn’t they?” groaned Jon.

  “Yeah,” said Bane. “We’d be mad not to assume the EuroGov know that’s where we’re heading—or will do soon.”

  “So which way?”

  “Southwest for fifty kilometers to get us out of their likely search area, then southeast for the passes beyond Lausanne. Not actually too much further, since whichever way we go, we have to make a bit of a dog-leg over the Alps into Italy. Huh, speaking of dogs, come on...”

  The stream got deeper and deeper still and soon we were half-swimming. The current buffeted us, making it twice as hard to keep our footing, until we were all soaked from head to foot.

  “Wait a moment...” A fallen bough lay right by the bank. “Let’s be smart about this. We’ll get a lot further, a lot faster, if we go with the current, won’t we?”

  Bane saw what I was looking at. “Brilliant!”

  We got the log poised to fall, without touching the bank and leaving our scent—then edged Jon back so he wouldn’t get hit.

  Splash!

  Soaked yet again. Ah well. We fitted ourselves between branches, Bane on one side and Jon and I on the other to balance it, then took our feet off the ground, letting ourselves float.

  “Ah, that’s more like it,” sighed Jon, resting his head on his folded arms as the log drifted along, turning sedately in the water.

  “Tell me about it,” I murmured. Wading was decidedly hard work.