ILLUSIONS AND LIES: Chapter 5

The doctors weren’t about to release a couple of kids who a few hours ago had been in a critical state, so Abigail said we would have to take them without the hospital knowing. Under the pretence of taking them to the garden for some fresh air, we shuffled Bailey and Sarah into wheelchairs. Abigail told the nurse they were to be transferred out of ICU on their return, on account of their improved conditions. I didn’t really get why she bothered, but I guessed it was to contribute to our ruse.

Richard pushed Bailey’s chair while I pushed Sarah’s. As we made our way along the halls and down the elevator, I couldn’t help feeling as though we were being watched by every pair of eyes we passed, like I was doing something devious and criminal. If you want to be technical about it, we were. I resented the feeling though. I had an overwhelming urge to say “I didn’t realise this was a prison” to the next person who cast a glare in our direction. But I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut and followed Abigail down the corridor.

When we got to the floor my room was on, Abigail told us to head out to the garden and wait for her there. As she walked toward my room, we turned for the exit.

In the garden Sarah asked me to pick a flower for her.

“Why don’t you see if you can hop up and pick one for yourself, Sarah?” I shot Richard a curious look. “She needs to get back on her feet, Bailey too. She’ll be fine,” he said.

Bailey took Richard’s cue and got out of his wheelchair. He walked over and wrapped his arms around my neck. He whispered, “I love you, Mummy,” and kissed my cheek.

“I love you too, Bailey. How about we help your sister pick some flowers?” Bailey took my hand, and I took Sarah’s. “Come on my princess. Let’s pick some flowers together.”

She stood, hesitating for a moment, waiting for the pain to present itself. When it didn’t, Sarah grinned up at me and tugged my arm ferociously.

“I wan da pink ones,” she shrieked, dragging me forward.

We picked a flower each, and Sarah insisted Richard wear a pink one behind his ear, he obliged graciously, when Abigail emerged carrying my handbag.

“You’ll need your purse. Let’s go.” She walked past us without slowing.

I swept Sarah into my arms and told Richard to grab Bailey, and we followed her out to the parking lot. I almost had to run to keep up, Abigail’s legs being a foot longer than mine. And she was powerwalking.

“Richard, we’ll take your car,” Abigail said. “They’ll be looking for mine.”

“And Richard’s bright yellow Monaro will be really inconspicuous!” It wasn’t really the time for sarcasm, I know, but I couldn’t stop the thought from escaping my lips.

“Not helping, Charlie,” Richard said, as he pulled his keys from his pocket and pressed the button. “Pile in.”

Any other time it would have bothered me that Abigail helped herself to the front seat, and it did bother me a little that day too. However, I was not about to start acting like a jealous teenager under these circumstances, even if I was thinking like one.

Once we were on the road, Abigail opened Richard’s glove-box and pulled out a UHF radio. She flicked the switch and turned the dial to the channel she wanted. The only sound was static.

“What are you listening for?” I asked, peering between the seats into the front.

“The people who are looking for us communicate on a secure channel. We have access to their channel.”

“You’re hoping to hear how close they are?”

She nodded.

“We’re out of the hospital now. Tell me what’s going on.”

“First things first. Richard has to go to your house and get some clothes for you and the kids, and anything else you need.” Abigail handed me a piece of paper and a pen from the glove-box. “Here, write down anything you want Richard to pick up. Stick to the essentials, though. He won’t have much time.”

“Why can’t I do it myself?”

“Because they’ll be expecting you. They track us by the use of our powers. Their equipment monitors energy signals, the same way meteorology equipment monitors the precipitation in the air to predict weather patterns. That’s why I knew they would be coming for you –when you were in the ambulance you used your power to heal your children. It’s like you sent up a flare.”

“But if I used my powers, why didn’t Bailey and Sarah fully recover immediately?”

“Because you didn’t know you had the power to heal them. It was your desire to save them that triggered your power. And your ignorance of it meant your powers were not being used at full strength, and you’re lucky they weren’t.”

“How is that lucky? My kids could have died.”

“If you had been using your full power, you would have died. You were drawing from yourself. Remember what I said?”

I nodded. “Okay, but if they can monitor our use of power, how can Richard be safer than us? He has powers too.”

“He didn’t use his powers.”

“Haven’t used them for four years. Not since I met you, Charlie,” Richard interjected.

By now we were two blocks from my street. I had written a short list of items for Richard to gather from my house. Richard pulled the car over.

“End of the line. Everybody out.”

I climbed out, ambivalently, Bailey and Sarah following. I closed the door and handed Richard the list through the window. He clasped my hand and pulled me toward him.

“Don’t look so worried, Charlie. I’ll be back in flash.” He pointed at his cheek. “Now lay one on me and go wait with Abigail like a good little girl.”

I slapped his cheek playfully. He frowned.

“Isn’t that what you wanted, me to lay one on you?”

He put a warm hand on each of my cheeks and pulled my face through the window. He kissed me, deeply and passionately.

“That’s what I wanted,” he said, as he released me. “See ya in a tic.” And he was gone, screeching tyres as he took off.  

I wandered over to the patch of grass where Abigail sat with my children. Edging between Bailey and Sarah, I wrapped an arm around each of them and pulled them tight against me. I took a moment to enjoy the last of the day’s warmth soaking into my skin.

“Strange day huh?” Abigail said.

“I’ve had worse.”

We both laughed lightly.

“He’s going to be fine. He knows what he’s doing.”

“How do you and Richard know each other so well?”

“We’re recovery agents for the resistance. We started working together when we were teenagers.”

“What’s a recovery agent?”

“Exactly what you would imagine. We recover things, people mostly.”

“People like me?”

“Yes. There are fifty-seven of us in total. The resistance has endeavoured to find all fifty-seven, to keep us safe from the NDU. You were the last one.”

“I can guess what the resistance is –a group of people who know what’s really going on and want to stop it somehow?”

“That’s right.”

“Why didn’t Richard tell me about all this when he met me?”

“He wasn’t sure. To be honest, I don’t think he wanted it to be true.” Abigail looked at me with tenderness in her eyes. “You see, the first time he met you he called me and told me he’d found you. He said he’d get a job in your café in order to do some recon, make sure you were a healer, before bringing you in. Once he got to know you though, he started to fall in love with you.”

“If he was falling in love with me, why didn’t he want me to be part of his world?”

“Are you serious? Would you choose this life for your kids?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. It’s the classic boy-risks-life-and-sacrifices-his-own-happiness-for-girl-he-loves story, or something like that. He didn’t want it to be true because he didn’t want you to be in danger from the NDU. He wanted you to have a normal life.”

“Why didn’t he tell me he loved me after Nick died? Why did he wait til two days ago?”

“Don’t you get it? He is what he is. If he started a relationship with you, you would have been drawn into his world at some point, regardless of whether you were a healer or not. Once you used your power he knew your chance at a normal life was over, and he was free to tell how he feels, guilt free.”

“That’s so… romantic. In a narcissistic kind of way.”

“Narcissistic? He was doing it for you!”

“Don’t you think I deserved the chance to decide for myself? Not to mention, it might have been nice to know there was an anvil of doom hanging above my head that could drop at any moment.”

Just then, Richard came tearing around the corner, his Monaro sideways, tyres screaming on the asphalt. He barely stopped as he yelled at us to get in. I hadn’t even closed the door when his foot hit the throttle. The velocity slammed me back against the seat and slammed the door shut.

Once we were moving and all seatbelts were fastened, I heard the reason for Richard’s haste. The crackling of the UHF radio was being interrupted by bursts of dialogue. One voice, deep and gravelly, shouted through the speaker, informing the other listeners of the street we were on and what direction we were heading. Another voice questioned if the man was sure that we were travelling with Richard. The first voice yelled that he was sure, he’d just witnessed us getting in the car.

I turned around and looked out the back window. A white sporty-looking car was behind us. It was low to the ground with the kind of aerodynamic shape that only really fast cars have. I didn’t know what it was exactly, I never knew much about foreign cars. But I knew its speed scared me. The Monaro is fast, but this thing was gaining.

“They’re catching up!” I screamed.

Richard yelled, over the roar of the engine. “They might outrun me on the streets, but that little front-wheel-drive can’t handle dirt.”

“What dirt? We’re in the middle of the suburbs.”

“Leave it to me. Just hold on.”

By the time we reached the end of the street, the white sports car was right behind us. I wondered why, if they’d wanted us dead, they weren’t shooting at us or something like that, but thought better of it –they wouldn’t want to draw more attention than was already drawn by the revving engines and screeching tyres.

Richard made a hard left, sending the Monaro into a sideways slide, and punched his foot to the floor. My eyes still fixed on the car tailing us, I saw the smoke from the tyres as the Monaro accelerated toward the next corner. A hard right into a street marked with a NO THROUGH ROAD sign. It was a dead-end. We were trapped.

The crackling voice coming through the UHF confirmed my fear.

“They’ve got nowhere to go. We’ve got ‘em.”

“We’re right behind you. Don’t let them get away.”

As we neared the end of the dead-end street, Richard slowed, but not by much. He pointed the car at the gutter between two houses, one of which had a small boy playing in the front yard and a very alarmed mother by his side. The woman grabbed the toddler by the arm and dragged him backward, toward their front door. The car jostled violently as we hit the gutter. Two squeals let out from either side of me. I looked down at Bailey and Sarah, both had looks of shock upon their faces. Bailey seemed more surprised than anything else, whereas Sarah looked plain terrified. Neither of them had said a word since getting in the car.

The Monaro sped between the houses, tearing up the adjoining lawn, Richard in complete control the entire time. I wondered momentarily how many times he had done this. As we exited the narrow laneway, I saw where Richard was planning to lose our pursuers. He took another hard left onto the street where we came out. At its end I saw a single driveway leading to a large property. It was the first of many cane fields that edged the suburbs in this part of town. The dirt Richard planned to lose them on was in that cane field.

Richard accelerated, pushing the rev-limit. The white sports car was on our tail again, close enough for me to see the eager expression on the driver’s face. I could have sworn I saw him smile. It was the villainous smile of bloodlust. It was at that point that I began to pray, although I’m not in any way pious, for Richard to be right. We couldn’t let these people catch us.

A billow of dirt behind us was my first indication that we had reached the end of the street and were now cutting through the cane field. I hadn’t taken my eyes off the man who was intent on killing us, though he had only spared me a single glance and that malevolent smile –his attentions were focused on his pursuit, and maintaining control over his vehicle.

My prayers were fruitful, Richard was right. The moment the white sports car hit the dirt it began to slide around uncontrollably, slinging dirt in every direction. In trying to restrain his wild vehicle, the driver was forced to slow considerably, until he was lost to us inside a cloud of dust.