The Drift, page 27
‘Come to me, Hannah. You are still my daughter.’
Hannah hesitated and then realized, for the first time, she wanted to be held, just once. She walked forward and leaned against her father. He wrapped his arms around her.
‘I’m dying,’ she whispered.
‘I know.’
Tears squeezed from her eyes. ‘I don’t want to die.’
‘I know.’
She felt something pressing into her back. She looked up. ‘Fath—’
A muffled bang. A feeling of intense heat in her side. Hannah’s legs gave. She couldn’t feel them any more. She slid out of her father’s embrace, falling backwards into the snow.
He looked down at her, still holding the small pistol. ‘But we all have to die sometime, Hannah.’
She tried to reply, but blood was clogging her throat. All she could do was lie there, her side throbbing, breath coming wheezily. Around her, boots crunched in the snow.
‘What shall we do with her?’ someone asked.
Her father’s voice: ‘Burn everything. Leave nothing but bones.’
‘What about the others?’
‘Take them.’
‘Alive?’
‘Yes. I promised my daughter … and they could both be useful to us.’
Distantly, more commotion. Shots. Hannah was aware of cries and shouts. Once, she thought she heard Daniel’s voice: ‘Okay – I’ll come. Just don’t hurt the baby.’
A figure crunched up to her. Something wet and caustic splashed over her face and body. Accelerant. Gradually, the voices and noise faded. Hannah was alone. Unable to move, she stared up at the small circle of sky, watching it lighten. The beginning of a new day. Her last.
She didn’t feel cold any more. She was aware of the smell of burning and the crackle of flames around her. But she didn’t feel the heat either.
Comfortably numb.
Except … there was something.
Hannah could sense a presence.
Death, perhaps, lingering close by.
You can come now, she thought. I’m ready.
Soft steps in the snow.
A shadow fell over her.
And then … whistling.
Meg
Meg stared at the gun. ‘I’m not here to stop you. I just want to get help, for Sarah.’
‘I’m not sure our needs are mutually compatible.’
‘But they could be. We could work together.’
Slowly, Meg turned her gun round so she was holding it by the barrel. Never taking her eyes off Sean, she stretched out her arm, placed the gun on the table and stepped back.
She waited, heart thumping. Sean nodded at the handgun. ‘Where did you get that?’
‘Dead guy in the control room.’
‘Resourceful.’
Sean considered her for what felt like an eternity, then clicked the safety on and laid his gun beside hers. He stood. ‘I need another beer.’
He walked over to the counter. Meg glanced at the handguns on the table and wondered if this was a test. Could she grab one in time? Did Sean have another gun on him? Did she actually want to kill him?
Sean opened the fridge and glanced back. ‘Want one?’
‘To drink?’
He grinned, took out two bottles, popped the lids off on the countertop and walked back over. He held out a bottle to Meg.
She accepted it and took a swig. Warm, stale, and Estrella. But still fucking delicious right now.
‘So should I call you Sean or Daniel?’ she asked.
His face clouded. ‘Daniel was another life. A lot of blood under the bridge since then.’
Meg regarded him with more sympathy. ‘What happened to your sister?’
Sean sat back down. ‘You ever hear of Invicta Academy?’
Meg frowned. Again, that distant bell ringing.
‘Exclusive school in the mountains,’ he continued. ‘Ten years ago, a coach carrying students from the Academy crashed in a snowstorm. They were all killed, including the daughter of Professor Grant, the famous virus guy, head of the Department.’
Meg nodded. ‘Yes. I remember now. It was on the news. Only the driver survived. He went to jail.’
Sean threw back his beer. ‘I was the driver.’
Meg stared at him. ‘You?’
‘I wasn’t meant to be. I had to knock the real driver out and lock him in a toilet.’
‘Why?’
‘Long story. The short version – to get myself and my sister to safety. Otherwise, we would have been left behind to die with the rest of the infected.’
She stared at him, confused. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘There was an outbreak at the school. But it was kept quiet. The fee-paying students who tested negative were evacuated. I was working in the kitchens. My sister was there on a scholarship. Our names weren’t on the list.’
‘Jesus. And your sister died in the crash?’
He shook his head. ‘About half a dozen of us survived the crash, including my sister, Peggy. But she was badly hurt. And then we found out that some of the students on board were infected.’
‘How? You said only those with negative tests were evacuated?’
He gave her a grim smile. ‘Money can buy you a lot of things, including a ticket out of lockdown. The rich parents bought their infected kids out of there. Or at least, they thought they had.’
‘How do you mean?
‘The Department pretended to be evacuating the kids – keep those rich, powerful parents happy – but they never intended them to reach the Retreat. They engineered the crash.’
‘But Grant’s daughter was on board. He was going to let his own daughter die?’
Sean nodded. ‘Everyone is expendable to him. But Hannah, his daughter, worked it out. She tried –’ he broke off. ‘She tried to save us. To save Peggy.’
‘But she couldn’t?’
He shook his head and then said softly. ‘But she saved Peggy’s baby.’
Meg stared at him. ‘Peggy was pregnant?’
He nodded. ‘A little girl.’
‘What happened to her?’
‘We almost made it. Me, Hannah, the baby. We escaped the coach; we were trying to make our way to safety. But then they found us.’ Meg saw his face close down. ‘Grant and the Department. He shot Hannah and took the baby.’
‘Why did they let you live?’
‘I was the scapegoat. The evil imposter who killed the students the Department was trying to rescue.’
‘They could have killed you and still spun the story,’ Meg said.
‘But far better to be able to parade a sacrificial lamb in front of the press. To put a face to the evil. To hear him say, “Guilty”.’
Meg stared at Sean. That was why, she thought. Why that picture had stuck in her mind. Why the overweight young man and the beautiful girl had seemed so familiar. Meg must have seen them in newspapers, on television screens. Ten years ago, but the brain is a hoarder.
‘Why didn’t you tell people the truth?’ she asked.
Sean sighed. ‘Because I was guilty. And they had Eva. They promised me she would be looked after. They would even give me updates, a chance to see her grown up … if I played along like a good boy. They kept their side of the bargain’ – he swigged more beer – ‘and I bided my time.’
‘For what?’
‘Revenge.’
He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
‘How did you plan on getting revenge from prison?’ Meg asked.
A thin smile. ‘People think you’re cut off from everything inside. In fact, you have access to a lot of stuff others don’t. Inmates aren’t there because they’re innocent bystanders. They know things. A lot were Rems. I picked up plenty of useful information from them over the years. I found out how to get inside the Retreat.’ A pause. ‘And I found out where Eva was.’
‘How?’
‘There’s always a man. Wherever you are: he might be a white man, a black man; might even be a woman. The principle is the same. There’s always someone who runs things. Someone who has the power. You just need to know the man.’
‘And what did you have to do for “the man” to get this information?’
His face darkened. ‘You don’t want to know.’
‘Maybe I do.’
‘Really? You want to hear how I sucked, fucked and stabbed my way into his favour?’
Meg swallowed drily. ‘I’m sorry.’
Sean threw back the beer. ‘Don’t be. I did what was necessary – I got what I needed. And then I got myself a get-out-of-jail-free card by being picked for a trial. And not just any trial. It had to be this one. The Retreat. Because that’s where he is. Grant. The Professor.’
‘And when you’ve killed him, what then?’
‘Then I go and find Eva. She’s ten now. She should know about her mum. Know her family.’
Meg sipped her beer. She wasn’t so sure about that. But now was not the time. She had other questions: ‘What about Paul?’ she asked. ‘Why did you kill him?’
‘Paul?’
‘The cop on the cable car. That was his real name.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I used to be in a relationship with him.’
Sean stared at her – and then he burst into laughter. ‘Man. Guess we all have our secrets.’ He tipped his beer at her. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’
‘No, you’re not, and it wasn’t a loss. I hadn’t seen him in five years. But he didn’t deserve to die.’
‘It was him or me.’
‘And what about Karl?’
‘I didn’t want that to happen.’
‘But you were happy to frame him.’
‘I didn’t –’ Sean shook his head. ‘It wasn’t how it was meant to go.’
‘And how was it meant to go?’
Sean sighed. ‘I got a tip-off that there was going to be a cop on board, looking for me. Somehow, word got out I was going after the Professor.’
‘How?’
A shrug. ‘No honour among thieves, like they say. While the man was feeding me information, he was feeding someone else information about me. I half expected it.’
Meg stared at him. ‘So you smuggled a knife on board to kill Paul?’
‘No. I’d already arranged for the knife to be on board. I knew that we’d be drugged before being put on the car. Stripped, possessions taken. I didn’t know if I’d be able to get hold of a weapon once we got to the Retreat. So I arranged to have a “friendly” Department worker hide the knife in exchange for some drugs I’d scored. I poured the food and drink I was given down the toilet and faked being out of it when they came for me. When we got into the cable car, I checked you all out. I knew right away who the cop was. The gun was kind of a giveaway.’
‘Paul was carrying the gun?’
‘Yeah.’
‘He was drugged?’
A slight hesitation. ‘Yeah. I guess he wanted to play along, or he didn’t get the memo.’
Meg’s throat tightened. ‘So you stabbed him while he was knocked out?’
Sean shot her a black look. ‘He’d have killed me if he got the chance.’
‘But he didn’t, did he?’ Meg felt her voice catch and gathered herself. ‘And then you hid the gun and planted the knife?’
‘I had to think quickly. I had a bloody knife to dispose of, and a gun to hide. My only option was to dump them both out of the cable car. But then it occurred to me that the gun could be useful, so I had an idea. I took the tape that had been used to stick the knife beneath the seat, opened the roof hatch and stuck the gun to the roof, figuring I might be able to get it later.
‘I was about to ditch the knife when the power cut and the car stopped. I got thrown back into the car, and the hatch slammed shut. That’s when you started to wake up. I had to make a quick decision, so I shoved the knife in the pocket of the person nearest me, curled up on the bench and pretended to be out of it.’
Meg let this sink in. It all made sense now, in the way that a crazy man’s plans made sense. Or maybe not crazy. Just grief-stricken and obsessed.
‘You had the key to the hatch all along. You pretended it was locked.’
‘Yeah.’
‘And Karl was just collateral damage.’ She eyed him more sharply. ‘And what about Max?’
He looked down. ‘He was a dead man walking, Meg.’
‘So you helped him on his way.’
‘He was a liability.’
Meg shook her head, a nasty bitter taste in her mouth. ‘All of this, just to kill one man.’
Sean stared at her. ‘I thought you might understand.’
‘Me?’
‘You lost your daughter. If you knew one person was responsible for her death and you had the chance to kill them, wouldn’t you?’
Meg opened her mouth to reply and realized she couldn’t, not honestly. After Lily’s death she had seen one of the doctors who had failed her daughter. Getting into her car in a supermarket car park. It was late, the car park was deserted. Meg had started to approach, fists clenched. In that moment, she had wanted to see terror in the bitch’s eyes. To say, This is for Lily, and smash her fucking brains out.
But then someone had called her name. An officer Meg knew, crossing the car park with his shopping. The moment was broken. Sanity restored. Meg had walked away and got in her car, commending herself on her restraint. Except it wasn’t her conscience that had stopped her, but a witness.
‘I understand the need for revenge,’ she said to Sean. ‘But it wouldn’t have taken away my grief. Lily would still be dead.’
‘It’s not about grief,’ he said. ‘It’s about justice. For Peggy – for all of those Grant has killed.’
‘At any price?’
‘There’s always a price. Just like there’s always a man. You just have to decide if you’re willing to pay.’
‘Were you ever going to send help for us?’
Sean rolled his eyes. ‘What help? From where? Look around you, Meg. This place has been completely trashed. You saw the bodies.’
She nodded. ‘I thought you’d shot them at first. But they’ve been dead for far longer than that.’
‘I guess whoever stopped the cable car must have killed them.’
‘Do you think that person is still here?’
Sean shook his head. ‘I’ve had a look around. This place is empty.’ He gave her a sharper look. ‘No one is coming to help us, Meg. Face it, someone wanted to stop us getting here. Permanently.’
Meg stared back out of the huge window. The cable car hung, toy size, in the distance. ‘Sarah is still stuck out there.’
‘Her choice,’ Sean said.
‘I can’t abandon her,’ Meg said, more desperately. ‘If I could get hold of some climbing equipment, I might be able to get back across the cable and lower her down out of the hatch.’
‘Seems like a lot of effort to save a woman you don’t even like.’
‘I’d do it for you.’ Meg leaned towards him. ‘Sean, please. Just help me. You can kill whoever the hell you want afterwards. I’ll even lend a hand. Just let me try and make this right.’
Sean swigged his beer. ‘You’re a better person than I am.’
‘Am I?’
She saw the conflict in his face.
‘Fuck!’ This time he threw the empty beer bottle at the picture window. It bounced harmlessly off the reinforced glass. He stared at it and sighed. ‘Well, that was a wasted gesture.’
He looked back at Meg. ‘There’s a snowmobile around the back. I was going to use it to get to the Retreat … but we could probably both fit on it.’
Meg smiled. ‘Thank you.’
Sean stood and then paused. ‘Just ask yourself one thing, Meg – who exactly are you trying to save?’
She frowned. ‘Sarah.’
His blue eyes bored into hers. ‘Fine. Keep telling yourself that.’
Carter
It took three hours to trek up over the mountains to the cable-car station. It wasn’t that far, but the terrain was steep and treacherous. Once, snowmobiles had provided quick and easy transport. But they had gone a long time ago.
Carter sweated and panted as he dragged the sled up the mountain slope behind him, occasionally stumbling, often swearing. The snow had all but stopped but a damp mist hung low, thickening into dense pockets in places, obscuring the way ahead.
Making the journey on foot was hard going. The endless white and identical mountain ridges made it easy to get lost. There were sudden gullies and at some points the mountainside dived away into sheer rockface.
Halfway, Carter paused to catch his breath and ease the ache in his weary legs. The air was thinner up here; he could feel his heart and lungs having to make more of an effort to get the oxygen into his limbs. His phantom nose and exposed mucous membranes stung with the cold. He buried his face further into his scarf and resumed the trek. Finally, he crested another small ridge, and saw it. The circular grey hub of the cable-car station.
Once upon a time, the cable car had brought tourists from the hotels and train stations in the main town to the more exclusive ski resorts higher up the mountains.
Those resorts had been closed for over a decade. The town below had fallen to crime and dereliction. Most of the buildings were ruined and uninhabitable. But the cable car had found a new purpose: it had been the only secure way to bring recruits up to the Retreat.
Built into the mountainside, the huge, curved wall of glass offered views over the forest and valleys beyond. The main level contained a viewing deck, café and dock. Below this, a small engine room housed the generator. Carter was pretty sure it was where he would find gas canisters, and a spare battery too.
He pushed on, staggering and stumbling down the rocky slope to the entrance at the side of the station. Around the back, he could see a ramshackle maintenance shed and the burnt-out skeleton of an old snowmobile. Carter swallowed. He was sweating inside his snowsuit. He didn’t want to do this. But he needed to. And not just because Miles would kill him if he failed.
The automatic doors to the entrance foyer were jammed half open. Carter propped the sled against the wall and peered inside. It was dark. Snow had drifted in, piling in the corners and coating the floor in slippery flakes. Carter could just make out a small, unused ticket desk, a row of fixed plastic seating and, ahead of him, a corridor that led further into the station. A dank smell drifted out, like bad drains.
